Or comparisons.
Or whether I measure up to whatever world he comes from.
I’m thinking about the fact that he’s still standing there.
Still looking at me like that.
Like he’s here just for me.
And that? That’s the moment.
The point of no return.
Because whatever happens next—I know I’m walking in and choosing it with both eyes open.
And suddenly, I’m not thinking about consequences.
Or heartbreak.
Or whether this is smart.
I’m thinking about him.
About how he makes me feel.
About the fact that for once, I don’t want to be careful.
Magic?
Maybe.
Or maybe just the kind of night that changes everything.
Either way, I think I’m ready for this.
Chapter Nineteen
David
I’m not ready for this.
Not ready for how she looks so fucking soft and perfect.
My cock is so goddamn hard, I don’t even know how I’m standing up straight.
The room is too quiet.
Too controlled.
Too polished.
Soft gold lighting spills from recessed fixtures, catching on glass and chrome and the edge of a king-sized bed I haven’t even looked at since I walked in. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across one wall, the city beyond glittering like it’s trying to compete.
New York hums out there.
Alive.
Endless.