Chapter 4

4

ELLIE

S aturday morning dawns bright and unavoidable through the tall windows of the hotel room. Eyes still closed, I curse my last-night self for not having the wherewithal to close the curtains before going to sleep.

But then I remember why I didn't have any wherewithal. Or sense. Or, as my currently naked body suggests, reservations.

Oh. Drake went down on me last night, and I fell asleep in his arms. And now he's gone.

I sit up and look around, and it's obvious he's left. I don't know what to think. Did he regret everything? Was it a mistake? Did he feel trapped by the one-bed situation and have to bolt?

I get up, my body sore and tired, my eyes feeling like they've got sand in them. I go to the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. My hair is a mess, my lips are puffy, and I have a hickey on my neck.

A hickey.

God, I'm an idiot.

I get in the shower and scrub myself raw, wishing I could do the same to my emotions. I tell myself that Drake probably has women all over the world waiting for him to call and that I should just forget last night ever happened. The least he could have done was wait for me to wake up or tell me himself that he was leaving.

Would I feel any differently if he had still been sleeping by my side when I woke up? Would I regret anything then?

It's a sobering thought to realize that, no, I wouldn't regret it. Because even with him being gone, I still don't. I wanted Drake and took the chance that was offered to me. And if his enthusiasm last night was any indication, he wanted me too just as badly.

Things might be a little screwed up now or a lot—time will tell. But I'm not going to live with regrets, either.

Slowly, the sinking feeling I woke up with fades, replaced by something warm and even a little bit happy. I can't avoid the fallout of what Drake and I have done, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the memory of it. And who knows, maybe he'll be cool about it, and our work relationship won't have to change.

Even if it breaks my heart a little to know that my employer is all Drake will ever be to me. Last night taught me a lot of things about myself, but the most staggering one is that I don't just want to jump Drake Evan's bones—I want him in every way. He's important to me, and I care about him deeply. I want that to be mutual so badly that it hurts.

Getting out of the shower, I dry off and wrap one of the hotel's fluffy white robes around me before exiting the bathroom. As soon as I open the door, I'm greeted by the scent of coffee and the sight of Drake sitting on the edge of the bed with what looks like breakfast.

"Morning, sunshine," he greets, standing to bring me a steaming cardboard cup. "Sleep well?"

I blush, but thankfully, the heat of the shower has already turned my skin pink, so hopefully, he can't tell. "Uh, yeah. I did."

"Good. We've got a busy day according to the schedule you've sent me no less than five times, so I figured I could feed you before we got started."

Confusion and the urge to touch him war with each other, but I end up just taking the cup from his hand and following him to the small dining table in the other part of the suite. He unrolls the paper bag and pulls out a small spread of bagels and cream cheese, a fruit bowl, and two small carafes of orange juice and milk.

It's not much, but it's thoughtful and definitely more than I expected. He must have seen the surprise on my face because he grins, taking the seat across from me.

"I'm not totally useless, you know. I can get takeout breakfast."

"It's just surprising, is all." I sit down and pick up one of the bagels. "Thank you for getting me coffee, too. I'm going to need it today."

He snorts, taking a bite of his own bagel. "Tell me about it. The itinerary you sent me is insane. I've had to rearrange everything and delegate half of it to the sales team."

I flush and shrug. "It's the job. You have to go to all of these things, Drake. I know it's annoying, but you're the star of the show here, and you need to do what you can to make sure Dragon Ascent's brand stays relevant."

He grunts in agreement, biting into his bagel. Drake often eats with a single-minded intent, and this morning is no different. I keep waiting for him to mention last night or reach across the table to take my hand—anything to acknowledge that something huge has changed between us.

But he doesn't. This feels like any other morning with Drake Evans, my boss. It hurts, even if I know it shouldn't. He never made me any promises or even said anything to insinuate that our relationship is different now.

We finish breakfast, and Drake dusts his hands off, telling me, "Better go change unless you're working in just a robe today." He gives me a lopsided smirk. "I wouldn't complain, but I know how much you like to keep things professional."

It's as close to a mention of our previous night's activities as I will get. Shooting him an eye roll to cover up how shaken I still am by everything, I do as I'm told and go get ready for the day. It's going to be busy enough that I shouldn't even have time to think about Drake's dark head between my legs and the feeling of falling asleep in his arms. At least, I hope so.

Downstairs, the convention is in full swing.

The part of the hotel designated as a convention center is huge and new, and the event planners have gone all out. There are dozens of booths set up in the main lobby, each with its own color scheme and carefully curated theme. Several climbing walls have been set up along the sides of the room, and as Drake and I walk through, everyone is trying to get his attention. It's nothing new, and he handles it like a pro.

Drake looks fantastic in a suit, but today, he's dressed in the gear that fits him most naturally. He looks every inch the record-breaking climber, decked out from head to toe in Dragon Ascent gear.

Knowing that I will be walking all day but still wanting to impress the man next to me despite my reservations, I'm wearing a black pencil skirt and a silky cream blouse. My heels are low but strappy. I sigh, mentally preparing for the day ahead.

During a lull in the crowd, Drake reaches over and wraps one of my blond curls around his fingers. "You should wear your hair down more often."

His words send a flush through my body. I reach up to touch my hair, tucking it behind my ear self-consciously. "I, uh..."

Before I can get any words out, Drake gets distracted by someone he recognizes. He waves to them, and we head toward the other side of the lobby. I try to follow, but I feel his hand slide from my back to my butt.

I shoot him a glare, but he doesn’t even look at me.

He has no idea what he does to me.

I should be used to it by now, but that doesn't stop the ache between my legs. Drake is the most attractive man I have ever met, and his touches don't help my resolve.

We head for the Dragon Ascent display booth, the largest at the convention. It's a large tent painted in the same colors as the company logo. Inside, there's a row of climbing walls, each one with a different design. Some are textured with rocks, while others have a more uniform appearance. Drake heads straight for the one set up with the new gear.

This is why we're here. This is what I need to focus on.

As we walk toward the displays, I see people from the crowd watching us. I've grown used to the attention but still find it awkward. I've never been a fan of crowds, and now that I work for someone so well-known, there are always people watching me, hoping for some kind of interaction.

Not that I can blame them. I mean, look at him.

Drake strides up to the climbing wall with all the confidence in the world. His gait is easy, and his gaze is cool and calm. I'm struck again by how gorgeous he is. The man is tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, and has the attention of everyone in the crowd.

His black shirt clings to his muscles and his matching cargo pants are fitted enough that I can see the outline of his thighs and calves. I have to force myself to look away from his ass.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I should not be lusting after my boss right now.

It's a habit I need to break, or things will get really awkward. So what if we hooked up? I need to get it through my thick head that it was just a one-time thing.

But still... Drake's body is a wonder. He has just the right amount of bulk. It's sexy without being overdone. He looks like he belongs on a poster rather than being a real person.

I feel my breath catch as I watch him turn and face the crowd, ready to give his presentation. He catches my eye and then winks at me. I flush, and I know I must be beet red. I curse under my breath.

"Good afternoon, everyone," Drake begins. "I'm so glad you could join me here today to see the latest advancements in climbing gear. We at Dragon Ascent have been working very closely with our designers to create products that are safe, lightweight, and functional."

Now is about the time I tune out. I have a passing understanding of the gear that Dragon Ascent produces, but my main job is to be Drake's handler. I don't need to be all that educated on the gear, just the CEO.

Drake is a natural speaker, in total command of the space without being overbearing. I check my watch and look over my shoulder at the rest of the convention going on. Since he's going to be occupied for a while, giving his talk, demoing the new gear, and answering questions, I have some time to myself to just peruse.

In situations like this, Drake likes me to scope out the competition, even with my limited understanding of everything. Really, I think he sends me out to get me out of his hair for a few minutes, but I'm glad to be free of the stuffy crowd anyway.

I make my way around the room, looking at the different booths and trying to be discreet. I feel bad for all the people who are stuck manning these things, answering inane questions about their products. It's not exactly thrilling stuff.

I'm making my way past a booth when I hear someone call my name.

"Ellie?"

I turn and see Claude Vanderhoven standing behind me, a huge smile on his face. I plaster one on mine, even though I'd really rather not talk to him.

"Hello, Claude."

"I'm glad I caught you," he says. "I was hoping you'd be interested in attending my film screening tonight. It's a private showing, and I realized I didn't get a chance to invite you last night."

"Oh, well..."

I trail off, thinking about how I'm actually interested in attending. Not to be around Claude but just to do anything besides work. A private screening, which I assume will have drinks and appetizers, sounds much better than sitting in a shared hotel room with a man who may or may not feel the same way I do.

Sensing my hesitation, Claude continues, "It's called 'The Ecstasy of the Summit'. You'd be my special guest, Ellie. It will be lovely."

I glance over his shoulder and see that Drake's presentation is over. There's a line of people waiting to talk to him, but he's glancing around, obviously looking for me. I can see the frustration and annoyance in his eyes when he sees I'm not there.

"Claude," I begin, and he smiles, knowing I'm going to say yes. "I'm not sure that Drake has that event on the agenda."

He waves away my words. "No matter. We can still have a nice time, no? I will send you the information for the screening. Just give me your number."

That's a bridge too far, even if I do want to attend the showing. So instead, I pull out one of my business cards, figuring that Claude having my business email is a safer bet. He frowns as he takes the card, glancing down at the information on it.

"You can contact me with the information there," I explain, giving him a fake smile, hoping to avoid further questions. "I'm sure you've got networking to do today, so I'll leave you to it!"

I spin on my heel and head towards Drake before Claude can say another word. I feel his eyes on my back, but he doesn't call out or chase after me, thank God.

Drake looks relieved to see me, which makes me feel a little guilty for ditching him. But then he gives me that smug smirk that drives me crazy and says, "Enjoying yourself, Ellie?"

"Immensely," I reply sarcastically.

"Good to hear."

He leads the way back toward the Dragon Ascent booth, and I follow, keeping an eye out for any potential business contacts.

"There's a private screening for Claude's documentary tonight," I tell him as we walk. "I figured it might be a good idea to attend. Network, maybe pick up some new clients."

Drake stops, and when he speaks, it's with an authority I'm completely unused to coming out of his mouth. "No."

I stop walking, stunned. "What do you mean no?"

Drake turns and walks back towards me, and I swallow thickly at the intensity I see in his eyes.

"You're not going," he says simply.

"I don't think that's your decision to make," I reply, doing my best to stay calm.

"I'm sure as hell not going, and there's no way I'd trust that prick around you. You're with me, and I'm not letting you out of my sight."

His words make my heart flutter, but I ignore the feeling. Instead, I'm already starting to scheme in my head how I can make this thing work. I mentally scan through his schedule tonight and the glaring gap at the exact time of the documentary screening. There are dozens of requests for Drake to attend smaller showcases and demonstrations, but I mostly kept those options off his itinerary unless it could benefit Drake or Dragon Ascent in some way. But if I need to keep him busy long enough for me to go to the documentary...

Why am I even doing this? It's not like I really care about Claude's movie, but a part of me is bitter that Drake is ignoring what happened between us last night. This is a grasp at independence, a way to show him that I can do what I want, especially if he's going to take zero interest in me romantically.

"Okay, whatever, Drake," I huff, pulling out my phone and pretending to look something up. "On a different subject, there's a showcase tonight you've been asked to attend." I watch Drake's face. His expression is inscrutable, but he turns and looks down at me. I have to crane my neck to meet his gaze, and I swallow.

He doesn't seem convinced that our argument is over this quickly. "A showcase?"

I nod, trying to maintain a straight face. I feel bad about lying to him, but he's backed me into a corner. No man, not even Drake, will tell me what to do.

"NatureCo Industries has this new indoor climbing thing. It's a new wall that's supposed to replicate climbing outside. The manufacturer wanted you to demo it for them, and if you agree, they'll carry Dragon Ascent gear exclusively in the first climbing gym they open with the new wall type. What do you think?"

I watch as Drake considers it. I had written it off before. Dragon Ascent is a world-renowned company, and NatureCo is still small enough that it wouldn't be that much of a get. But I don't tell him any of that.

"I have it marked as high priority," I add, trying to convince him. "You'll have plenty of time to get ready for your big presentation tomorrow."

He sighs and glances down at me, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I guess I could do that," he says, "if you think it's worth my time. I trust you."

My stomach twists at his words, but I put on a fake smile anyway. "Perfect! I'll email you the details. It should be over by 9:30, and I'll meet you back at the hotel room."

He frowns at me. "I'm not sure I like the idea of you wandering around here on your own. A few of my old climbing buddies here brought their wives?—"

I wrinkle my nose at the idea, holding up my hand to stop him. Even if I wasn't lying about my intentions, palling around with some women I have zero in common with sounds like a nightmare. "Okay, no. First, I'm your assistant, and they are your friends' wives. Second, I don't make a point of hanging out with strangers. Third, I have some work to catch up on."

He shakes his head, stepping closer. I feel like I'm being pinned to the wall by his eyes, and my heart thumps against my chest as his hand cups my face. His thumb brushes across my cheek, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

"I just worry about you," he murmurs, his gaze drifting over my face.

"I can take care of myself," I say, annoyed by my breathlessness. I brush his hand away, annoyed beyond measure that now, of all times, is when he decides to show me any ounce of affection. "You should go."

"Yeah, I should."

He doesn't move away from me, though. In fact, he seems to be leaning even closer, his head tilting down, eyes fixed on my lips. My breath catches in my throat as I realize what he's about to do, but I don't want to stop him. I should push him away, I know, but I can't. I don't want to.

Before I can make a decision either way, his lips brush mine, the lightest of touches. His breath is warm against my face, his hand coming back up to cup my cheek. "Don't do anything to get yourself into trouble, Ellie. I know you're a troublemaker at heart, no matter how much you pretend not to be."

"You think you know me so well," I murmur, my eyes locked on his mouth.

He chuckles. "I know you better than you think. I've been watching you for a while now, El."

My heart skips a beat as he leans in again, and I close my eyes, waiting. I can feel his mouth hovering inches away, so close that I could lift my head and close the distance myself. I want to.

Before I can, Drake steps back, smirking a little. I open my eyes, feeling my cheeks flame with heat as he looks me up and down. "Have fun tonight," he says, taking another step away from me. "I'll see you later."

We barely cross paths for the rest of the day, and I watch Drake's icon on my device tracking app and make sure he's out of the hotel room before I go up to change. I'm already regretting my subterfuge to attend the screening, which I don't even care about, but I've set my plans into motion, and I have to follow them through.

Now, I look at myself in the mirror and tug my skirt down my legs, wishing it was longer. The cream-colored sheath dress hugs every inch of my curves, and while it's not exactly revealing, it's much more form-fitting than anything I would usually wear.

I run my fingers through my curls, trying to get them to behave, but that's a losing battle. They're wild, and there's nothing I can do to tame them. I slip my feet into my black heels and take a deep breath, smoothing my hands over my hair one last time before picking up my clutch and heading downstairs.

At this moment, Drake will be starting the demo for NatureCo, so there's no chance I'll run into him on my way to the screening. The thought makes me smile a little. Even though I'm angry with him for the way he treated me earlier, I can't help but be relieved that I'm avoiding him. He already doesn't like me going out alone. He'd be even angrier if he found out I was going to see Claude's documentary.

I walk through the lobby, trying to look as confident as I feel. My heels click on the marble floor as I pass the bar, and I can feel the eyes of several men lingering on me. The thought makes me blush a little, but I ignore them all the same. I'm on a mission. A mission to be an independent, confident woman and to pretend that my every waking thought right now isn't on Drake and how pissed he'd be if he knew what I was doing.

The theater is on the second floor, and I hurry to the elevator while it's still empty. There's someone outside taking names, and just like Claude promised, I'm on the list of special guests. The usher escorts me down to the bottom level, where a portion of the seats are sectioned off for VIPs.

Claude is standing in the center of the VIP area, greeting everyone personally and in a suit that looks much too formal for the event. His eyes light up when he sees me, and he hurries over. "Mademoiselle White," he says, taking my hand and kissing it. "How wonderful to see you."

"Likewise," I reply, taking my hand back as soon as possible and discretely wiping it on my dress. He's so slick. It's off-putting, especially compared to the straightforwardness of Drake.

I don't realize I've thought of his name until Claude speaks again. "It's a shame Mr. Evans couldn't make it."

I give him a tight smile. "He was needed elsewhere."

"Of course." Claude smirks. "We wouldn't want to bore him with a documentary, would we? Mr. Evans seems the easily bored type."

Another dig at Drake’s intelligence. It pisses me off, but I say nothing. It's clear he's baiting me, and I won’t let him win. Instead, I change the subject, asking him about the film. He's all too eager to tell me about it, and were he not so full of himself, it might be impressive. He tells me about the locations, the people he worked with, and the logistics of filming while climbing a dangerous mountain.

Before long, the lights go down, and the film begins. I can’t ignore the feeling that I'm cheating on Drake, even though I know I shouldn't. We aren't a couple. I have every right to be here, watching a movie about climbing, something he has no interest in doing. But still, I feel guilty. Guilty enough to keep my phone face down in my lap so I won't be tempted to check it every two minutes.

The breadth of my mistake becomes even more apparent when Claude takes the seat next to me. There's no reason for us to be so close, but he continues to lean over to try and explain the documentary to me every few minutes. At one point, he puts his hand on my leg, and I almost jump out of my skin, trying to shuffle away.

There's a brief intermission where Claude stands to speak about his movie so far, and I try to make small talk with the other VIPs around me. I recognize plenty of them—world-class climbers, other companies CEOs, and even a pair of B-list movie stars—and groan internally. If even a single one of them recognizes me, Drake will know I was here.

Isn't that what I want, though? For Drake to realize I have a life outside of him and that if he wants me, he needs to act?

Once the movie restarts, Claude ups his efforts to get into my space. The fake-casual touching, the talking so close I can feel his breath, makes my chest tight. I don't want this. I don't want him close to me at all. I have gravely misunderstood what Claude thinks tonight is going to entail.

"Can you get me some water?" I blurt out to him, and he stops mid-sentence, furrowing his brow.

"Now?" Claude whispers back. "But we're almost at the part?—"

"Please."

He huffs in annoyance, but once he remembers that everyone around us can see him trying to dismiss my request, he stands up to do as I ask. Letting out a breath of relief, I look around and try to decide just how I'm going to make my exit. Maybe I'll be able to get upstairs and change before Drake is done with his demo, and he won't ever have to know I was here.

Spotting an exit at the bottom left of the screen, I start to rise out of my seat when suddenly someone drops into the seat Claude was just occupying. I immediately know it isn't him—the sprawled-out, almost lazily casual body language of the newcomer is different from the stuffy Frenchman.

In an instant, without even turning to look, I know it's Drake, even in the dark. Swallowing hard, my pulse kicking into overdrive, I turn to look at my boss.

He's still in his climbing clothes from the demo, loose shorts showing off his perfectly defined legs and tight white shirt bearing the Dragon Ascent logo, leaving little to the imagination.

If he weren't obviously pissed beyond measure, I'd take my time to enjoy the view.

As it stands, I can tell he's already about to explode. His green eyes are lit up with anger, his hands clenched into fists on the armrests of his chair.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Drake growls out, and I quickly look around to see if anyone is paying attention to us.

A few people have turn, curious, but no one seems to notice who Drake is. He's holding himself loosely, but his face tells me that's all an act. There's nothing casual about Drake right now. He's seconds from igniting.

I've never seen him so angry. All over me.

"I-I got an invite?—"

"And you came?" Drake hisses. "I told you no. I told you I didn't want you alone with Claude, and you lied to me, Ellie."

"It's not like that," I whisper, trying to keep my voice down, even though I'm getting mad too. "I never lied to you. I asked, and you said no, and that was that. I didn't think it was your decision to make."

"When it comes to you, it is," Drake snaps back, eyes flashing. "You're mine. Mine, Ellie. You're my responsibility, and you’re here alone with that asshole when I specifically told you to stay away."

"You're not my dad, Drake," I spit, crossing my arms over my chest. "I don't need a babysitter, I'm an adult. And I'm not going to let you dictate my life. We're at a conference, we have things to do, and I thought this would be a good networking opportunity for me."

"For you?" Drake scoffs. "If you wanted a networking opportunity, you should have told me. I would have made it happen. Why would you choose to spend time with him instead of me?"

His words are laced with hurt, and I feel a twinge of guilt. "It's not that," I say quietly. "I just..."

Both of us go silent when another figure hovers over us—Claude returning to find Drake in his seat.

"What is going on here?" Claude demands, placing a hand on my shoulder. I immediately shrug him off, but Drake has already seen the movement. His eyes flash.

"You two seem to have gotten to know one another," he growls.

Claude gives Drake a look, obviously annoyed. "She is my guest here tonight."

My boss stands, taking advantage of his height next to Claude. "The fuck she is," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

No one is paying attention to the movie anymore, not that I can blame them. There is a furious energy passing between Claude and Drake, and I want to be anywhere but in the middle of it.

With the two men a breath away from fighting and fixated totally on one another, I slip behind them and run up the aisle.

As soon as I burst into the bright light outside the theater, I let a breath of relief escape. I didn't think this would go down like this. I knew Drake would be pissed about me coming, but I never would have thought he'd come to find me … never thought he would care so much.

I shake my head and make my way out to the lobby of the conference center, but before I can go anywhere, a hand grabs my arm from behind—not tightly, but just enough to stop me in my tracks. Just from the touch alone and the buzz that shoots through me from it, I know it's Drake.

Slowly, I turn, and Drake is even more delicious looking out here in the light. There's still a sheen of sweat on his skin from the climbing demo, and the animalistic part of my brain wants to lick it off him.

Focus, Ellie. Focus.

To my surprise, when I meet his eyes, he isn't nearly as angry. Instead, there is a possessiveness that is totally new to Drake. And here I thought I've seen every emotion this man can possibly feel.

"That was quite the scene, Drake." I finally break the silence stretching between us.

Drake doesn't say anything for a moment. "Come on," he says finally, and my heart skips a beat. Is he taking me back to the room? Before I can answer, he takes my hand and pulls me to the side of the lobby, where we are alone.

"Are you okay?" he asks gruffly.

I blink, taken off guard. I expected a reprimand, but this…? "Of course I'm okay," I reply. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because Claude is a fucking prick, and…" His voice trails off. He looks confused, like he can't decide what he is feeling right now.

"And what?" I ask, genuinely curious.

He just shakes his head. "I don’t fucking know, Ellie, but you look beautiful tonight."

That is the last thing I expect him to say. Stunned, I look down at my dress and smooth out the fabric, blushing. "T-thanks?"

"Please tell me" —he comes forward, closing the space between us— "that you didn't wear it for that fucking asshole Claude."

Before I can think better of it, the truth falls from my lips. "I wore it because I wanted to make you jealous."

Drake's nostrils flare, his pupils dilating. His hand is on my face, pushing back to run his fingers through my curls before cupping the back of my head. "Then I guess it worked," he breathes, "because I am."

I'm breathing fast, like a rabbit running from a wolf. I know he's going to kiss me, but the need for his lips on mine becomes even more urgent when I spot Claude over Drake's shoulder in the distance, clearly looking for me.

Thinking back to when he kissed me to avoid his stalker, I take a page out of Drake’s book. "Turnabout is fair play," I breathe, running my hands down his firm chest before grabbing two handfuls of his shirt. "Kiss me."

I've never seen Drake look so thrown off. There's a flicker of confusion, a hint of amusement, and then his hand tightens on my head and he slams his lips against mine.

It's like a dream. In that first second, he's just holding his lips against mine, the feeling of his warm, firm mouth on mine so achingly familiar. Then his tongue presses against the seam of my lips, demanding entrance. I gasp in surprise, and he's in.

Drake kisses me like he's starving for it, like he needs this more than he needs air. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer to him, and every hard line of his body presses into mine. He groans, and the sound makes me weak in the knees. He pulls away just long enough to catch a breath, and then he kisses me again, biting my lip.

I moan as his hips press into mine, feeling how hard he is. One of his hands trails down to cup my ass; the other grips my hip hard. I'm dizzy with it all, with his scent, his taste, the way he feels, and I have to pull away to catch my breath. He stares at me, his pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling. I want him. I want him so much.

I only come back to reality when I hear a scoff from behind us and look over Drake's shoulder once again to see Claude storming off. Drake turns to see what has caught my attention, and when he turns back to me, his smile is vicious and victorious all at the same time.

"You, sweet Ellie," —his grip on my hip tightens, pulling me more firmly against him— "drive me so crazy that I don't even care you just used me to get rid of that asshole." He leans in, nose brushing against my wild hair as he whispers, "Do you want to do it again, just for good measure?"

All I can manage is a squeak, but Drake reads my unspoken agreement in the sound and kisses me again just like I want. It's only when someone passes by us and clears their throat that the two of us separate long enough to collect our thoughts.

"I wasn't using you," I clarify, looking up at him, needing him to know he's so much more to me than just a distraction. "I mean, I guess I was trying to get Claude to leave. But I wanted to kiss you anyway."

"Ah, then this isn't just a ruse to get me to forget that I'm angry with you?" He's teasing, but there's a note of seriousness in his voice. Drake isn't going to forget that I manipulated the schedule just to come to this showing.

"It would be an added bonus, I guess." I try to smile and joke with him, but he still stares down at me like he's not sure if I'm being honest.

Drake runs his thumb across my lip, and the motion is so intimate that I almost lean in to kiss him again. "You haven't messed up once in the time I've known you. I just want you to be more careful."

I'm not sure how to respond to that. He's trying to be kind, I can see it in his eyes, but the last thing I want is for him to think that I can't take care of myself. I want him to see me as strong and smart and capable. I want him to see me as an equal.

"I don't want you to think I'm not careful. I am." I bite my lip, hesitating for just a moment before I tell him something that I've never told anyone before. "I didn’t drink, so don’t worry. I don't drink much in public because my father was an alcoholic. He's a mean drunk, and I don't want to be like him. I don't want to be like anyone in my family."

Drake's face softens even more, and he leans down, kissing my forehead. "You're not anything like them. I promise. You're strong and kind and clever. You're everything."

The words make me blush, and I look down, still not used to compliments from this man who usually seems so gruff.

"Ms. White," he rumbles, "would you like me to take you upstairs and finish what we started last night?"

My entire body feels flushed with heat, and I inhale, nodding slowly. He chuckles, and I wonder if I'm playing into his ego by letting him think he has the upper hand here.

It doesn't matter because Drake wraps his arm around my waist and leads me toward the elevators, his pace quick as if he's afraid I'll change my mind. I know I won't. I'm not sure I ever could.