Chapter 2

2

MELODY

I 'm so freaking tired, and I'm this close to losing it.

The purr of the engine fills the air as Adam's sleek black sports car glides through the city streets. I find myself staring out the window, watching the familiar sights fade away like a distant memory. The rhythm of the tires against the asphalt would usually lull me into a state of peacefulness, or even sleep, but not today. Definitely not today.

I am anything but relaxed.

Everything really has gone to hell, hasn't it? I can't believe I got evicted. It's like life decided to dump a truckload of lemons on me, and I'm left here with no lemonade recipe. Even just one of the problems I'm currently facing would be too much, but all of them at once? I might as well just curl up into a ball and give up. It might be preferable to where I am now—in the car with my pushy boyfriend, on the way to his billionaire dad's house, whom I've never even met, of course.

I lean my forehead against the cool glass, feeling a mix of defeat and sadness wash over me. The diner where I slaved away, working my ass off morning and night? It feels like a cruel joke now. All those double shifts, greasy spatulas, and endless coffee refills, and for what? My own mother—my flesh and blood—stealing my hard-earned money to buy booze and gamble. I barely made enough to pay my rent and hers at the same time, but she's my mom… I was determined to take care of her no matter what. But instead of being grateful, she used the key I had given her for my apartment to break in and take everything I had saved.

The day before rent was due.

The Maple Leaf Diner, my little haven of greasy goodness and camaraderie, seems light-years away. Those early mornings of flipping pancakes and brewing coffee, the late nights serving hungry customers—they feel like a distant dream. All that hustle and bustle just to end up with nothing. It's enough to make a girl question the entire universe.

And now, my only option is to crash at Adam's place. I can't believe I'm about to step foot in his dad's mansion! The thought of being under the same roof as both Adam, who clearly wants to take our relationship to the next physical level, and his Dad, the famous self-made billionaire, makes my stomach do somersaults.

I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the nerves. It's not like I have much choice. It's either swallow my pride and deal with Adam or freeze my ass off in the streets. Tough call…but I do hate the cold.

Slowly but surely, the scenery transforms from a concrete jungle to a winter wonderland. Snow-covered fields stretch out, and a chill drafts through the window, making me turn the vent towards me and discreetly turn the heat up just a little more.

I gaze out at the sprawling landscapes, the pure white blanket that covers the world. It's beautiful, in a way. But it also feels so damn lonely. I feel so lonely if I'm being honest with myself, even with Adam right next to me.

We have almost next to nothing in common, which is a sad reality I have to face, and now I have no choice but to stay with him a little while longer. Just to have a roof over my head. Adam seems super excited about the whole sleepover ordeal, which is raising a lot of red flags for me. He seems bored with me most of the time unless he thinks he'll get the chance to make out with me. All the pressure that he's been laying on is about to get ten times harder to avoid with us living together. At least the estate is enormous, according to Adam himself.

Yet, that's another thing that has me on edge—Adam's dad's fancy mansion. I haven't even seen it yet, but I already feel like I don't belong. It's the epitome of everything I don't have—a life of riches, security, and comfort. Millions of miles away from my efficient apartment and the trailer parks of my youth.

I fidget with the edge of my seat, my nerves coiling tighter by the minute. This is gonna be interesting. Living with Adam, the guy who knows how to push my buttons with just a damn smirk, and a literal billionaire in the form of his father. God help me.

As the miles pass by, I clench my hands in my lap, my mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. But deep down, beneath the layers of doubt, there's a spark of hope that refuses to be extinguished. I may be young and lost, but I won't let life's curveballs knock me out for good.

I have to count my blessings. At least I will have a place to sleep and an opulent one at that. The estate should be big enough for me to avoid Adam most of the time, and he promised me that his dad really doesn't mind me staying. This will give me a rare opportunity to keep all of my earnings from work without all of them going directly to rent, so that will be nice.

Plus, Adam also told me I could drive one of his spare vehicles, even if the idea of having more than one vehicle at a time boggles my mind. Maybe if I just pick up some extra shifts and spend most of my time at the diner…

Adam's voice breaks the silence, making me jolt back to reality. "You know, Melody, the timing of all of this works out well, even if it sucks for you. I thought it'd be nice to have some alone time."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, my heart sinking. We haven't even gotten to his dad's place yet, and he's already letting me know he plans on it being a ‘romantic time'. Meanwhile, I want very little to do with Adam. The guilt about wanting to break up with him right before the eviction threatens to surface again, but I tamp it down.

"Adam," I say, my voice firm, "I'm really, really stressed out about everything right now and I haven't been sleeping well. I just want to get some rest, okay?"

A smug smile tugs at the corners of his lips, his eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. "Come on, Melody. Don't pretend like you're not tempted. The way you used to look at me…you can't deny the chemistry."

I roll my eyes, refusing to be drawn into his manipulative games. "Chemistry doesn't excuse toxic behavior, Adam. I just want to rest, like I said."

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white. "All you do is push me away, Melody. How long do you expect me to stick around when the woman that's supposed to be mine doesn't want to give me anything more than a kiss?"

Anger bubbles within me. "No, Adam. I am not yours. I am my own person. Now, let's drop it before this becomes a real fight."

"Fine," he snaps. "But don't forget that I'm doing you a favor, here. It wouldn't hurt for you to be a little nicer."

The car speeds on, each passing mile amplifying the tension between us. Snowflakes dance outside, casting a serene beauty over the landscape, a stark contrast to the turmoil within the vehicle. I find solace in the thought that soon we'll be at our destination, where I can finally escape his suffocating presence.

While the distance increases, the snow starts to fall harder, and my stomach starts to tie itself in knots from stress. This seems awfully far from the city, and it's going to be a long drive to work for me. And the snow is really starting to come down…what if we get snowed in? Any other time it might sound like a magical winter interlude, but with Adam? Not so much.

After a few minutes, Adam tries again, this time a little nicer. But I'm not fooled. "Look, I'm sorry if I'm going on too strong. I'm just looking forward to all this extra time we're going to get to spend together."

I purse my lips. "I feel like you're taking things so fast. I need some space is all."

"It's been months!" he groans. "I'm a man, you know. I can't wait forever to–"

"Stop," I bite out, crossing my arms. "If you can't stop bringing up…intimacy…then you can just drop me off at a hotel. I'll figure it out."

Adam's gaze flickers with anger and frustration. "Fine, Melody. Play hard to get. But mark my words, you won't be able to resist me for long. I always get what I want."

I shake my head, "You don't understand, Adam. It's not about playing hard to get. It's about self-respect."

He doesn't answer this time, and silence stretches. The car hurtles along, carrying us closer to the mansion that looms in the distance. The snowflakes continue their graceful descent, seemingly untouched by the turmoil within the vehicle.

Adam's unpleasantness may cast a shadow, but I won't allow it to define me or dampen my spirit. He's such a spoiled brat that it's astounding, but there's nothing to be done about it. I'm at his mercy right now—in a way, at least. I need a roof over my head, and because of Adam, it will be free for a little while.

Adam guides the car around a bend, and the mansion comes into view, standing proud and majestic amidst the snowy landscape. My breath catches in my throat, and my eyes widen in disbelief. I can hardly believe that this is the place I'll be staying for a while.

My God, is this place even real? It's like something out of a magazine. I've never seen anything like it.

Located in the heart of upstate New York, the estate is a captivating sight. The huge house stands tall, a testament to Adam's father's success as a self-made billionaire. Its modern construction harmoniously blends with touches of rustic charm, making it look comfortable before I even step inside. The pristine white landscape serves as the perfect backdrop, accentuating the grandeur of everything.

Even though we're just showing up to stay for a few weeks, not for any sort of event, I have the oddest feeling that I'm underdressed somehow in my hoodie and leggings. I've spent my entire life moving from one trailer to another, cramped apartments with peeling paint. This... this is something else entirely.

The home itself reminds me of an impossibly huge log cabin. I would bet money that there's a warm fire already lit inside, waiting to welcome us in from the cold. Even Adam's less-than-enjoyable presence can't detract from the little kernel of excitement inside of me.

Guiding the car around the circular driveway, Adam puts it in park right in front of the stone staircase leading up to the front door. I step out, the crunch of snow beneath my boot a fitting soundtrack to the moment. The cold air tingles against my skin, yet I hardly feel it. There is too much going on, both in my mind and around me.

I close my eyes for a moment, allowing the serene ambiance to seep into my soul. It's as if time slows down, and all the worries and hardships of my past fade away, if only for a moment. This place feels like a refuge—like maybe it could be a sanctuary from the world that has dealt me a tough hand.

Why does it feel this way, though? I've never been here in my entire life, and I've been dreading spending extended hours with Adam and his pushy attitude. Despite all that, something safe and warm is seeping in, and I can't help but let it wash over me. I haven't felt safe in a long, long time.

My thoughts are interrupted as the wind kicks up, and the snow starts to fall harder, the previous cheery, fat flakes disappearing into heavy sheets of snow as the storm rolls in. The blizzard rages around me, whipping my hair and stinging my cheeks. It's bitterly cold all of a sudden, but that's not what makes me shiver.

It's something else entirely. Something that I never expected would hit me like this. Or…I guess, someone.

As I approach the grand entrance, my eyes fixate on the figure standing in the doorway, tall and commanding. My heart skips a beat, and the world around me seems to fade into a blur. Time slows down, every second stretching out as if to prolong this moment. It's as if the universe has conspired to bring me and this figure together at this precise instant and is doing everything possible to get the job done.

Oh god.

There's only one person living in this place, besides the household staff that Adam had mentioned, which means the man in the door is Malcolm Mayfield, a man of undeniable presence and strength. His broad shoulders fill the frame of the doorway, and I can see the faint outline of tattoos peeking from beneath his suit sleeves. The sight sends a thrill through me, a curious mix of intrigue and fascination.

Our eyes meet, and in that instant, an electric charge passes between us. It's a connection that transcends words, a magnetic force pulling me toward him. I feel it deep in my core, a surge of desire so intense it's almost physical, like the collision of two souls recognizing their counterparts.

I try to steady my racing heart, my breath hitching as I take in his features. The dark waves of his hair, tousled by the wind. His hazel eyes, piercing and intense, hold a depth that beckons me closer. There's a hint of a smile on his lips, as if he feels the same gravitational pull that I do.

In this frozen moment, everything else fades into insignificance. The snowflakes falling around us, the biting cold, and even the troubles that led me here—all pale in comparison to the overwhelming connection that binds us.

I take a step forward, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. The blizzard may rage outside, but between the two of us, a different kind of storm brews. I cross the threshold, and I know my life will never be the same.

Adam is at my back, but I've completely forgotten he even exists. Malcolm's gaze locks onto mine, and a surge of warmth floods my being. But before we can fully acknowledge the palpable connection between us, the sound of my boyfriend dropping his luggage on the ground beside me shakes us out of the moment.

Adam strides in past me and into the foyer, his presence casting a shadow over the room. Malcolm's eyes narrow ever so slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. The tension between father and son is clear, casting a disconcerting cloud over the moment.

"Adam," Malcolm greets curtly, his voice laced with thinly veiled irritation. "I wasn't expecting you here so early."

Adam's eyes dart between his father and me, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Surprise, Dad. Thought I'd grace you with my presence for a little while."

Malcolm's jaw clenches, his frustration barely contained. "Fine. You know where your room is, so I assume you don't need me right now. Don't cause any trouble. I won't tolerate any disruptions."

Adam shrugs nonchalantly, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with his father's growing irritation. "Sure, sure. I'll be on my best behavior, I promise. Anyways, this is Melody Coolidge," he gestures to me absentmindedly. "My girlfriend."

I shift awkwardly, feeling like an intruder in their strained exchange. It's clear that Malcolm is not pleased with Adam's unexpected arrival, and I can't help but feel caught in the middle of their tumultuous dynamic. At the same time, I'm still reeling from how my instant connection with Malcolm has left me feeling confused.

"Thank you, Mr. Mayfield," I manage to stammer, my voice betraying a touch of nervousness. "I appreciate you letting me stay at your house."

Malcolm's gaze shifts from Adam to me, his expression softening with a genuine smile. "You're welcome, Melody. Please, make yourself at home. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

I nod, relieved that I haven't earned his annoyance yet. The sudden change in dynamics with Adam's presence adds an extra layer of complexity to an already strange situation.

I offer a small, appreciative smile to Malcolm, silently expressing my gratitude once more. When his lips curl up too, I'm once more struck by the undeniable need to be closer to him. I want to put my hands on Malcolm's chest, to feel if his body is every bit as chiseled as it seems to be under his black button-up shirt.

What the hell is wrong with me?! Ugh. I never think like this. Plus, my boyfriend is right next to me! Even if I had planned on breaking up with Adam, I never managed to accomplish the task, so feeling these things about his dad of all people is so, so wrong.

"Melody," Malcolm says again, the deep, smoky baritone of his voice rolling over me. "Would you like me to show you to your room?"

I hear Adam snort. "Dad, she's staying with me."

Both Malcolm and I both tense up at this statement, but I manage to speak first. "Adam, we already discussed this. I need my own space to unwind. And we aren't really…" I feel a blush coming over my face as soon as the words come out of my mouth. Why in the world did I even need to point this out? "…at that portion of our relationship yet anyway."

His expression goes annoyed again, and Adam crosses his arms, telling me, "Whatever. We can just move you into my room once you get over this ice queen phase you're so set on having."

"Or not," Malcolm adds, an edge of darkness to his tone. "She can stay wherever she is most comfortable, for as long as she needs to. Worry about yourself, Adam."

Adam looks like he wants to complain, but he doesn't, just clenching his jaw before turning to leave down the hallway, motioning for me to follow. "Sure, Dad. Come on Mel, let me show you to your special room."

I ignore his mocking tone, staying silent as Adam leads me down the grand hallway, his footsteps echoing through the opulent walkway. I take one last look back at Malcolm, wishing that he's the one taking me, and sigh. There must be something going on with me mentally to be this obsessed over Malcolm Mayfield.

We reach a set of ornate double doors, and he pushes them open, revealing a guest room that takes my breath away. The room is bathed in a soft, warm glow, courtesy of the gentle lighting emanating from the elegant chandelier above. My eyes widen as they sweep across the space, taking in the luxurious furnishings, the plush bed adorned with silk sheets, and the large windows that frame a picturesque view of the snow-covered landscape.

"Here's your room," Adam says, his voice dripping with an underlying tone that makes me uneasy.

I step forward, trying to ignore that instinctual wariness I'm suddenly feeling around Adam at all times. There is plenty for me to focus on in the room to help me ignore my boyfriend. This place is like something out of a fairytale, a stark contrast to the cramped spaces I've called home. It's overwhelming, to say the least.

"Wow," I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's... stunning."

Adam steps closer, his presence encroaching upon my personal space. My awareness goes on high alert, and I take a subtle step back, trying to maintain a sense of composure.

"You like it?" he asks, his voice a low murmur, laden with intent.

I force a smile, my unease growing by the second. "Yeah, it's beautiful. I bet there's great WiFi too so I won't get bored," I laugh awkwardly.

His gaze intensifies, his eyes scanning my face as if searching for something. "You know, Melody, you've been acting really bitchy lately. Is there anything I can do to help you blow off some steam?"

I watch as his eyes flicker over to the king-sized bed, and I'm immediately angry. "Really? Bitchy? You know I just lost, like, everything in my life, right?"

He steps even closer, looking as cocky as ever. The more time we spend here in his father's home, the more the kind, funny Adam I agreed to date disappears and is replaced by this jerk. "Oh come on, I'm just joking. Trying to lighten the mood and all."

I take a deep breath, my resolve hardening. It would be so easy to just give in to his advances to keep my living situation stable for the time being, but I know I would regret it forever. "Well, it's not funny to me. I need you to respect my boundaries, which I think I've made very clear."

A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, but he doesn't back down. Instead, he reaches out, attempting to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. I instinctively push his hand away, my voice firm. "Stop, Adam. This isn't what I want, and it's not what we need."

His eyes narrow, frustration growing. "What is your issue? You're always trying so hard to shut me out, and for what? I'm your boyfriend."

The word makes me flinch. He can never know how close I was to breaking up with him before my eviction, not if I want to have a chance of getting to live here rent-free for a little while! But he's making it so hard to keep my mouth shut.

"There's no issue, besides you being pushy and me being exhausted, like I've told you." I motion towards the door. "I think it's time for you to go. I want to be alone."

Silence hangs heavy in the air, punctuated only by the distant sound of a crackling fireplace. The tension between us is palpable, the weight of our unresolved issues lingering like a specter. But I refuse to let it define this new chapter in my life.

I take a step back, creating a safe space between us, and offer a final glance before turning to face the room that will be my refuge. It's time to settle into this temporary sanctuary, to find strength within myself, and navigate the delicate balance of living under the same roof with Adam. He hasn't left yet, but I don't know how I can make it any more clear that I'm finished with our current conversation.

Seconds roll into full minutes as I face the window and away from Adam, and I wonder if maybe I just missed the sound of him leaving. Just when I'm sure that I must be alone, I feel hands land on my shoulders, and Adam's breath near my ear. I tense immediately.

"Just a kiss goodbye then," Adam cajoles, pressing himself against my back. Panic is welling in me, battling with all the times I've been taught not to make a scene. "If you won't give us both what we both want, then I don't think a kiss is asking for too much, baby."

When I feel him move to kiss my neck, I jerk out of his grasp and stumble back a few steps, heart pounding. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"You know, I never knew you were so feisty," Adam laughs, moving forward and grabbing me again before I can react. He's trying to hold me still long enough to get what he wants from me, an undesired kiss, acting the entire time like we're playing some game. But it isn't a game to me…at all.

I feel a surge of adrenaline as Adam's lips persist, attempting to claim mine. Defiance surges within me, overriding any remnants of affection that might linger. My hand presses firmly against his chest, forcefully pushing him away.

"No, Adam," I assert, my voice laced with resolve. "I've said it once, and I'll say it again. I want to be alone."

Adam's face contorts with the intensity of his annoyance. The audacity of his persistence, his complete disregard for my boundaries…I didn't think my week could get any worse, but this really is the icing on the cake.

"Knock this shit off, Mel," he hisses. "You've had no problem kissing me before, or have you forgotten that?"

Oh, believe me, I haven't forgotten. I haven't forgotten the moments that I hesitated, finally relenting to a single kiss here and there so Adam wouldn't push me any further. I felt so special at first to catch the interest of Adam Mayfield, son of a billionaire, but that feeling has officially soured.

I start to speak, to tell him all this, but Adam lunges for me again. He tries to grab at me, hand barely grazing my wrist before we are both interrupted by a voice that booms into the room.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

I turn, heart pounding, as Malcolm strides in with an aura of dominance that demands attention. His eyes blaze, sweeping the space as if asserting his authority over it.

Adam's face blanches, caught off guard by his father's sudden presence. He stumbles, attempting to justify his actions. "Dad, it's not what it looks like. We were just-"

Malcolm's voice cuts through the feeble excuses, his words dripping with a simmering rage. "I saw enough. I saw you pressuring Melody when I heard her tell you no. You've been in my house for less than an hour, and this is how you behave?"

A flash of triumph flickers within me as I witness Malcolm's fury. Until this moment, I didn't realize how much I wanted someone else to see the change in Adam that I've seen, too. Everyone thinks he's so perfect, and that I'm lucky he even noticed me in the first place, but this right here is the Adam that I've been wanting to break up with.

"Dad, come on…"

Adam's fists are clenching by his sides, but Malcolm takes a step forward, his eyes searing into his son like icy daggers. "Do you think I'm an idiot, Adam? You've been living out of my bank account for years, only showing up when you need something, and now you want to disrespect this woman in my house? I think fucking not."

Adam's shock gives way to anger, his gaze challenging his father's authority. "You can't tell me what to do, old man. I'm an adult."

Oh, he has no fucking clue. I've only just met Malcolm and I know that Adam is way, way out of his league trying to step up to his father like this. I feel uncomfortable and a little frightened, stepping backward slowly until there is plenty of room between the two men and me.

Malcolm takes another step, his voice lowering dangerously. "You're right, Adam. You're an adult. And you can make your own choices. But don't you dare think you can disrespect Melody under my fucking roof. Leave. Now."

Adam's face flushes, the realization of the consequences he's brought upon himself coming to him slowly. He opens his mouth to retaliate, but Malcolm's unwavering gaze and commanding presence silences him.

"You can come back if you get a damned ounce of respect, for me and for the woman that you brought here and who is now my guest," Malcolm allows, but his tone doesn't ease up at all. I have a feeling he's only adding this concession because I'm here, or because Adam is his son. Maybe a little bit of both.

Adam turns to look at me, and the depth of his hatred in this moment makes me gasp. No one has ever looked at me like this before, and it scares me.

Who is this man? Did I even know Adam at all? I see so much in this look—first meeting him when he came into the diner where I was working, our first date at the movies where he seemed so shy to just hold my hand, and the shock from my friends when they found out just who my mysterious boyfriend really was.

Before it all changed, it wasn't bad. In fact, it was fun. Enjoyable. But in Adam's look right now, I see so clearly that it was all a lie. It was all just a ploy to get me into bed and then, more than likely, discard me.

"I'm sorry, Adam, but we're through. I can't be with you anymore," I rasp, but I know he's heard it loud and clear.

I suck in a shuddering breath, meeting his gaze and not looking away. I need to face this and stop living a lie. Even if it means that I'll be living on the streets within hours.

Without another word, Adam storms out of the room, his footsteps echoing through the mansion, fading into oblivion. The weight of the moment hangs heavy, the charged silence filling the space that Adam's presence once occupied.

I turn my gaze to Malcolm, my chest heaving as I breathe heavily to stop myself from crying. He's still looking at the door his son just exited from, his expression complicated. Malcolm stands tall, the owner of this space in every sense, his power and dominance radiating from his every pore.

A flicker of gratitude sparks within me, intertwining with a newfound trust and appreciation for this man who has just defended me. Who knows how far Adam would have tried to push me if his father hadn't shown up? I try not to think how awkward things are about to become now that Adam is gone, leaving me here with his Dad. And I'm not even considering the connection I feel towards Malcolm that is burning even brighter within me now. There is sadness in me but much stronger is something else that is pulling me towards him.

When Malcolm turns to me, I suck in a breath. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "You deserve better than what my asshole son has to offer you."

"I–" It's hard to speak, especially when he starts to move towards me. Thoughts of Adam disappear between one second and another. "I appreciate that. I'll…um…try to find a ride to get out of your hair, Mr. Mayfield. I've caused enough drama today, I think."

I try to keep a light tone, laughing self-consciously, but there's nothing light about Malcolm's appearance.

"A few things, Melody," he begins. Hearing my name in his mouth makes me tingle all over. "First, never call me that again. For you, I'm Malcolm." He reaches up, his rough fingers moving a strand of my hair behind my ear, and I subconsciously press my face ever so lightly into his palm, as if on instinct. "And second, you're not leaving. It's a blizzard out there, and you're a guest in my home. There's no way I'm sending a defenseless little thing like you out there to end up god knows where. You're staying here. For as long as you need to. No arguments."

Malcolm moves his hand from my face reluctantly, my nerves still firing where he touched me. Only now does it strike me that I slapped his son's hand away from performing that exact same caress, but I just let his dad do it without hesitation. And I liked it, too.

"Melody?" Malcolm rumbles when I stand there with my mouth half open, unable to think of a single thing to say. "I'm going to need an acknowledgment here."

Dazed, and raising my hand to lay my own fingers on my cheek, I reply, "Uh-huh."

His gaze darkens, but not with annoyance. "Uh-huh, what? Say my name, so I know you understand."

I lick my lips. "Yes, Malcolm, I understand. And, um, thank you for letting me stay."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He crosses his arms, but not before I catch the way he almost reaches for me again. God, I want him to so badly! What's wrong with me? "I'll give you some time alone, then. I'll have dinner prepared at 6 pm, you should join me."

He phrases it like an offer, but it comes off more like a command…one that I have no problem obeying. "Oh. Okay. Yes."

The enormous room feels like it grows impossibly small as Malcolm gives in to his urges once more and sweeps his thumb over my cheekbone in farewell. It looks like he has to force himself to turn and go, leaving me with, "Good. I'll see you then, Melody."

Malcolm closes the door behind me, and I'm finally alone, just like I've wanted for hours now. Except…I wouldn't have minded if he stayed. My entire body reacted both times he touched me, and I'm struggling to fill my lungs, my nipples hard and my core aching. Maybe it's the adrenaline from everything that's happened, or maybe, if I'm being honest with myself…

I want Malcolm Mayfield in all the ways that I shouldn't. And I don't think I'll be able to resist if he feels the same.

So. Dinner with my boyfriend…ex-boyfriend's…dad is not something I would have guessed I'd be doing tonight, but here we are. I've spent a wonderful handful of hours soaking in an enormous bathtub and trying to forget about everything that happened this morning, but now it's time to face the music and complete the task I never should have agreed to—seeing Malcolm again so soon.

My fascination and desire regarding the older man haven't eased, nixing the possibility that my attraction was only based on adrenaline. No, I couldn't be so lucky.

I really want Malcolm, and I'm starting to really hate myself for it. It makes me feel so wrong inside, but that makes everything even more exciting. The taboo of it all is driving me insane. How am I supposed to just sit and have dinner with this man?

I descend the staircase, second-guessing every choice I've made in the last six hours. I hadn't exactly packed any formal dinner wear since I had to pay to put most of my possessions in storage after being evicted, so I hope that my jeans and knit sweater will be good enough for Malcolm. Something tells me he isn't going to care what I wear, though.

It's so opulent in here that it sort of boggles my mind, but everything is also modern and sleek. Top of the line, but never ostentatious. There isn't much personality in these public areas, though. I wonder if Malcolm keeps all the personal touches somewhere else in the house, somewhere that no one else can see.

I enter the dining room, and Malcolm stands tall by the table, exuding a commanding presence that leaves me slightly breathless. The room is huge, but Malcolm makes it feel oh so small. His tailored slacks hug his thick thighs, and he's still wearing the same button-down from earlier. When he moves his arms, I catch a glimpse of the tattoos that peek out from his sleeves. He looks like he stepped out of a magazine, and he only has eyes for me.

"Melody, come in," he says, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

The long dining table has over a dozen seats, but most of them have been pushed further down the table, with only two seats close together and near the food. One is the chair at the head of the table where Malcolm is standing, and the other is on the right side of that chair directly next to him.

It's obvious where I'm supposed to sit, but we're going to be so close together. I take a seat, my heart pounding, and try to focus on the exquisite meal set before us while the man that is making my body go on high alert lowers himself into the seat next to me. The table is adorned with elegant silverware and crystal glasses, each plate carefully prepared by Malcolm's household staff. The tantalizing aroma of the dishes fills the air, but my senses are completely consumed by the enigmatic billionaire.

"Wow, this looks incredible," I say, trying to sound composed as I glance at the array of food choices. There's nothing too heavy, but everything looks so fresh considering it's the middle of winter.

Malcolm smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly. "I'm glad you think so. I wasn't sure what you liked so I just had the staff prepare their best dishes."

I nod, but it's hard to concentrate on anything but him. The way he looks at me is like nothing I've ever experienced before, and it's stirring emotions I can't quite put into words. What was I thinking accepting this invite? Whatever is going on between us is too volatile to be in close quarters, and I'm way too inexperienced to know how to navigate it all.

Throughout the dinner, we engage in polite conversation, but it's clear that neither of us can fully concentrate on the words exchanged. The air between us crackles with an intense, unspoken desire. Malcolm's piercing gaze never leaves mine, and I find myself getting lost in the depths of his dark eyes. It's as if a magnetic force pulls us closer, blurring the lines of right and wrong.

As the meal progresses, I find myself growing more captivated by Malcolm's presence. He's an enigma—a man who has it all, and yet I sense there's a loneliness behind those deep hazel eyes. How I know that, I have no idea.

As we finish the main course, I try to gather my composure, but his nearness is intoxicating, making it almost impossible to focus.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, his voice low and velvety. "What happened with my son earlier…I understand if you're still shaken up."

I shake my head, trying to hide the turmoil inside me. "Yeah, everything's great. The food is amazing. I…um…haven't thought much about Adam honestly…"

The truth that I was ready to break up with Adam before the eviction almost slips out of me. Malcolm makes me feel so comfortable, like I can trust him, which makes no sense. I don't think he'll be thrilled to know I was basically using his son for housing, no matter how pissed off he is at Adam right now.

I nibble my lip, and Malcolm leans forward, searching my face like he's able to just pull the truth out of me. I swallow and keep my mouth shut, but I can't shake the feeling that he somehow knows.

Malcolm looks like he wants to say more but, instead, just says, "Good. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

Entire conversations are happening between the two of us without words, and my earlier intrigue has seemingly morphed into something more.

As the dessert course arrives, I'm both anxious and sad that the meal is about over. I've barely tasted the food, only picking at it, because there's another sort of hunger driving me crazy. If I'm reading Malcolm correctly, it's a hunger we both feel—for each other.

I try to focus on my plate, but Malcolm's nearness is intoxicating, making it almost impossible to keep my composure, especially with the pulse pounding between my thighs.

He eats his dessert in a way that hypnotizes me, licking the spoon and savoring the flavors in a way that is downright sinful. I don't even look down at my own confection, too focused on him and his gorgeous masculine lips.

It's only when he dips the spoon down for another bite that I realize he's watching me watch him, and I feel my cheeks get instantaneously hot. Malcolm chuckles, his eyelids lowered. Oh…he's doing this on purpose, and I've just shown him without a doubt how much he's getting to me.

"You haven't even tried your mousse," he murmurs, scooping up a chocolatey spoonful and holding it up for me. "Here, taste."

There's a million other things right in the chair across from me that I'd rather be tasting, and that idea shocks me. Lust like this isn't like me, and I'm almost ashamed of myself for my thoughts. But Malcolm is trying to feed me a bite, so I lean forward and let him give it to me, the cold metal passing over my bottom lip and making me jump just a little. Only when it's fully in my mouth do I remember that he was licking the same spoon just a second ago, and now I'm doing the same.

The mousse is amazing. I barely notice it.

The spoon hits the floor, replaced by his thumb on my lips as I swallow. There's a deep noise, almost a growl, building in his chest, and I wonder what it would be like to press against him and listen to it up close.

I know he's going to kiss me. This is a man that takes what he wants when he wants, and right now…I really think that's me.

Adam's dad is going to kiss me, and I want him to. But at the last second, I flee like a scared bunny and hate myself for it. At the same time, though, I'm relieved.

Pulling away, I sit up straight in my chair once more, and Malcolm's hand falls back to his side. He's looking me over, like he's trying to decide his next move, but then, he sighs deeply and stands. "Let me escort you to your room, Melody."

That's it? No fight? No argument? I almost protest, until I take his hand and feel how utterly stiff the man is. Oh. I'm doing this to him, and it's taking him every bit of his willpower to hold back, just because I gave him the signal that I wanted him to do so. I guess it's unfair of me to balk and then be sad he didn't force the kiss on me just to assuage any guilt I might have.

Malcolm leads me again through the beautiful hallways and up the stairs, and all too soon, I'm at the door to my suite. "Do you need anything for the night?" Malcolm asks me, his tone flat.

"No…no. I don't think so…" I shuffle my feet, biting my lip before looking up into his eyes again. "Dinner was wonderful. Thank you."

"My pleasure." Now there's that intriguing darkness in his voice again, reeling me right back in. "Making you comfortable and happy will always be my pleasure, Melody. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Anything."

You! I need you! My heart screams, but instead, I tell him, "I will. Goodnight, Malcolm."

He takes my hand and brushes his lips across the back of it, pleasure singing through my nerves. I might be crazy, but I think I feel the barest hint of his tongue coming out to taste my skin, but I can't be sure. The idea of it makes my blood almost boil in my veins from wanting him. "Goodnight, Melody."

He turns, and I back up into my room, closing the door behind me and rushing to the bathroom. Jerking on the cold tap, I splash water on my face, again and again. I need to get a hold of myself or I'm going to end up in even more trouble than I'm already in.

Malcolm Mayfield, billionaire and owner of this estate, wants to sleep with me. I'm sure of it. That alone would be survivable…but the fact that I want him with the same intensity is what's going to get me in a lot of trouble.

The world has done nothing but take from me lately, and the temptation to grab something back, something pleasurable just for me, is going to be hard to ignore.