She hands me a cup like she’s done it a hundred times before, then leans back against the counter, sipping hers. Her hair is loose, still slightly messy from sleep. There’s no makeup. No armor.
Just Melissa.
I take a drink, watching her over the rim. This … this is the part I never planned for. Not the sex. Not the heat. This quiet intimacy that feels like it’s always existed.
“I hope this is okay,” she adds lightly. “I kind of … helped myself.”
“It’s fine,” I say too quickly.
She smiles like she notices.
We stand here for a moment, comfortable, unhurried. The city stretches beyond the windows, bathed in soft morning light. Manhattan looks almost gentle from up here.
“You look very at home,” I say.
She laughs. “In your clothes or your penthouse?”
“Both.”
Her smile falters a fraction. Not fear really … maybe awareness.
I step closer, brushing my thumb along her hip absent-mindedly. “You okay?”
She nods. “Yeah. Just … this is new.”
“It is,” I agree.
Something sits unspoken between us. Maybe the knowledge that neither of us promised anything, and yet we’re standing here like people who might.
The doorbell rings, breaking the spell between us.
Melissa startles slightly as her eyes widen. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No.” I frown.
The doorbell rings again, followed immediately by a familiar voice echoing faintly through the hall.
“Colton! I know you’re awake. Your lights are on!”
I freeze.
Melissa looks at me. “That sounded … confident.”
I exhale slowly. “That would be my sister.”
Her eyes brighten. “You have a sister?”
“Yes,” I say carefully. “And she does not believe in privacy.”
The doorbell rings again, then turns into knocking.
“I’m coming,” I call out, already moving toward the door.
Melissa follows a step behind me, tugging the hem of my shirt down like she suddenly remembers she’s wearing it. The sight sends an irrational surge of possessiveness through me.
When I open the door, Aubrey barrels in like a force of nature.
“Finally,” she says, sweeping past me. “I thought you’d died in here.”