“He looked calm and completely at ease. No trace remained of the wild man who had fucked me in the La Perla dressing room approximately eighteen hours and thirty-six minutes ago. Not that I was counting.”

“Of course I remember that. You sounded like a frat boy and looked like a fucking model. What man could ever forget that?”

“You weren't kidding, Chloe. That is one beautiful bastard. I wouldn't kick him out of my bed. Or car. Or dressing room. Or elevator, or-”

“I realized my room was just next to hers.It was a mirror image of her room, but completely different in all of the ways that couldn't be seen. This shower hadn't washed away our pretenses last night; we hadn't slept together, curled around each other in this bed. These walls hadn't been filled with the sounds of her coming apart beneath me. This desk wasn't broken from a late-morning quickie.”

“Chloe, are you in the bathroom fucking that nice slice of man cake?”

“Wait, you remember that?""Of course I remember that. You sounded like a frat boy and looked like a fucking model. What man could ever forget that?""I would have given anything to know what you were thinking right then.""I was thinking, 'Highly fuckable intern, twelve o'clock. Disengage, soldier. I repeat, disengage.”

“I don't want to walk out that door and lose what we found in this room."His simple words rocked me. He wasn't declaring, he wasn't promising, but he said exactly what I'd needed to hear. We might not know what was happening, but we wouldn't leave it unfinished.”