Chapter Eighteen

Fallon

“Are you sure you don’t want another one?” Dove asked and quirked an eyebrow as she leaned on the bar.

I shook my head with a laugh. “I’m good with two,” I said and nodded to my empty glass of water. “Though I’ll take one more of those.” I had learned my lesson.

Dove grinned and grabbed my glass, then turned to the sink to refill it. She set the refill in front of me and smiled. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” I said and took a sip.

Dove studied me for a moment, her gaze softer than usual.

“Um, can I ask you something?” I ventured, hesitant. I still felt like there was a wall between us—a small one, but there nonetheless.

“Hit me, girl,” she said and tilted her head with a small, encouraging smile.

Now, I kind of wished I’d gone for a third drink to help with my nerves. I fidgeted with the glass in front of me. “I, uh…” Yeah, this was going great.

“My dad?” Dove said suddenly, her voice low but steady.

I blinked, surprised. “Um, yeah. How did you know that’s what I wanted to say?”

She chuckled softly and shook her head. “Because I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the same thing.”

That threw me off balance. “Oh,” I said quietly, then cleared my throat. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t hate me because I worked for him.”

Dove nodded and leaned closer. “I don’t,” she said simply. Then she paused and glanced away for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “Though I was a little pissed that you seemed to have a better relationship with him than I did.”

And there it was—the thing I’d worried about most. “I didn’t,” I said quickly and shook my head. “I was his secretary, nothing more.” I froze, and my eyes widened. “That sounds like I’m trying to say I didn’t sleep with him, which I did not do that!”

Dove burst out laughing, and the sound was so genuine it made my cheeks burn less. “I never thought you slept with him,” she said through her laughter and wiped at the corner of her eye.

“And I wasn’t like a daughter to him, either,” I added firmly. “I was just Fallon. His secretary.”

Dove nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Thank you for saying that,” she said softly. “I know I have a shitty relationship with him, but I was kind of annoyed, wondering if he treated you like he should have treated me.”

I shook my head again. “Nope, just an employee,” I said and let out a dry laugh. “He even denied my time off one time. I was definitely not treated like a daughter.”

Dove laughed at that and shook her head. “He denied your time off? Maybe he did treat you like a daughter. He would’ve done the same thing to me.”

We both laughed then. The kind of laugh that felt like a wall crumbling down brick by brick.

“What’s so funny?” Throttle’s voice cut in. He slid up behind Dove at the bar and wrapped his arms around her waist with ease, showing how much they loved each other. “Are you behaving?”

Dove leaned back into him with a smirk. “I always behave.”

Throttle scoffed, giving her a disbelieving look. “I find that hard to believe. When I met you, you were trying to get book cover models to take their shirts off.”

“Stop telling stories,” Dove laughed. “I would never do that.” Dove threw a wink at me, and I knew I was going to have to ask her about that story later.

The song playing in the background faded out, and the opening chords of “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac started.

“Oh my god,” I said and nearly jumped off my barstool. “This is my song!”

Without a second thought, I hurried over to where Sloane and Poppy were already dancing near the jukebox. Their laughter and carefree dancing made it impossible not to join in.

“Wait for me!” Dove called. She pressed a kiss to Throttle’s lips, and then ran around the bar to join us.

Soon, all the ol’ ladies were dancing together. The air felt electric, filled with the pulse of the music and the sound of our laughter.

The rhythm guided our movements, and I let myself go, twirling and swaying with a freedom I hadn’t felt in a long time. Sloane spun Poppy, and both of them giggled while Dove threw her hands up, mouthing the words to the song.

It was impossible not to notice Compass watching me from across the room. His eyes were locked on me, dark and smoldering, and a slow smile tugged at his lips. My pulse quickened under his gaze.

I moved more seductively and let my hips sway to the beat as I danced my way over to him. I kept my eyes locked on his, almost daring him to look away. He didn’t.

When I was close enough to touch him, I trailed my fingers down his chest. “Dance with me,” I murmured, my voice low enough that only he could hear.

Compass didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer while his other hand found the curve of my hip. Together, we moved in sync, the space between us nonexistent.

His hands slid down to my waist and held me firmly as I rolled my hips against him. The heat between us was undeniable.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured, his voice husky in my ear.

“Good,” I whispered back and let my fingers trail up his chest and around his neck.

The room seemed to fade away, the laughter and chatter of the others becoming a distant hum. It was just us, lost in the music and the heat building between us. I tilted my head to the side and let him kiss the curve of my neck. A shiver ran through me, the heat of Compass’s breath against my neck sending my heart into overdrive. “I need you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my pulse.

His response was a low, possessive growl that sent another shiver racing through me. “You’re mine,” Compass said, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Before I could say anything else, he swept me into his arms effortlessly. My hands clutched at his shoulders, but I wasn’t protesting—I didn’t want to.

Everyone knew where we were headed.

I felt my face heat, but I buried it against Compass’s shoulder. I didn’t care what they thought, not when the only thing on my mind was Compass and the way his arms tightened around me as he carried me toward the hallway.