I wait.
“I know I said I’d leave tomorrow,” she says, “but I’m staying a few days. I came here to review the place. I’m not changing that just because you’re here.”
“Good,” I say, unable to hide a small smile. “You might actually like what you find.”
She shrugs, but her eyes drift past me—back toward the hall.
She’s thinking about Amanda. Wondering what the story is. I almost laugh.
“You can ask,” I tell her.
“Ask what?”
“Whatever’s on your mind.”
She hesitates, then shakes her head. “I don’t need to.”
“Sierra—”
“I said it’s fine.”
The challenge in her voice hits instantly—heat flaring low in my body.
But beneath it, there’s something else. Something hurting. I give her the truth anyway.
“Amanda’s dealing with something personal. That’s all. There’s nothing going on between us.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I know.”
She huffs a quiet breath. “I wouldn’t believe you anyway.”
That lands.
“Have I ever been the kind of man to take advantage of someone like her?” I ask quietly.
“She looks about the age I was when we got together.”
I don’t argue.
There’s nothing to say to that.
“Anyway,” she says, already pulling back. “That’s all.”
“Wait.”
I catch her wrist before she can leave.
Her pulse jumps under my fingers. She goes still, tension snapping tight between us.
For a second, all I want is to pull her in. Kiss her. Forget everything else.
I force myself to let go.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say instead.
She nods once, then walks away.