Cullen snorted in disgust and crossed his arms over his chest. “And what? You want that first big mistake to be you?” He let out a low laugh. “I know you, man. You haven’t had a serious relationship since Karen, and even that wound up being a royal fuckup. What makes you think you’re good enough for my sister?”

It was a question I’d asked myself more than once in the past few weeks, and I didn’t have a good answer to it yet. But I knew one thing for sure. It wasn’t going to stop me from trying.

“Luckily, that’s not for either of us to decide. That’s Evie’s decision, isn’t it?” I said, cold fury settling over me. “If that seems out of line and you want to fire me or whatever, then go ahead.”

I could have told him that I’d changed. I could have told him that what I felt for Evie was different, but that wasn’t the point. Even if I hadn’t, she still had the right to decide her path in life without worrying about her brother’s approval.

Cullen’s face was stony as he stared me down in silence. “It’s like that, then?” he muttered finally, his legs moving once again and he started past me. “You know your way back. I don’t want to see your fucking face right now.”

I watched him until he was out of sight, half expecting him to turn around and come back. He didn’t, and I took off running the way we’d come, pushing myself to my limit in hopes of burning off some of this adrenaline.

That hadn’t gone well. I’d known it wouldn’t, but at some point during our familiar banter on the run, there had been a brief second—a tiny kernel of hope—that maybe it would turn out better than I’d imagined.

It wasn’t until I got back to my apartment bathed in sweat, my muscles shaking with fatigue, that I realized I hadn’t called Evie yet to tell her what I’d done.

Damn it, I should have warned her.

I sank down on the couch and said a silent prayer that I hadn’t lost both Reeds today.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Little white candles flickered on the coffee table, and soft jazz floated through the air. Smith’s apartment was spotlessly clean, complete with neat rows of vacuum lines in the carpet. Two wineglasses and a bottle of chilled pinot grigio sat beside a plate holding a single slice of pound cake with fluffy whipped cream.

When Smith had invited me over tonight, I’d told him I had dinner plans with Maggie I didn’t want to break, and so he invited me for dessert instead.

“What’s all this?” My gaze cut over to Smith, who was standing beside the sofa smirking.

He shrugged. “Just a little token to say how much I’ve enjoyed spending time together.”

My real question, the one that I couldn’t voice was—is tonight the night?

After our last conversation, I wasn’t sure if Smith had talked to my brother, and honestly, I didn’t want to know. I wanted to remain blissfully in the dark. The only thing I cared about was that we were together, and the sizzle of electricity that flowed between us was swamping all my other senses.

“Sit. Make yourself comfortable,” Smith said.

I lowered myself to the sofa while he uncorked the wine and poured us each a glass.

“Cheers.” I clinked my glass to his, butterflies dancing in my belly.

“To do-overs,” he whispered, a smile playing at the edges of his full mouth.

We each took a sip, and the cool, crisp wine slid down my throat, warming my insides.

Smith leaned closer and reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. The look in his gaze was intense, heated, passionate, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from admitting how much I wanted him.

“You’re beautiful, Everleigh,” he whispered. “Always have been.”

My face heating under his careful scrutiny, I did the only thing I could think to do. I leaned into his touch, my eyes falling closed as his lips met mine.

His kiss was so careful, so controlled. He nipped at my lips, gently pressing his mouth to mine, until I took his lower lip between mine and gave it a sharp bite.

He pulled back, fire blazing in his gaze as his tongue traced the abused spot. “It’s going to be like that, huh?”

Swallowing down my nerves, I knew what I wanted tonight. We’d been building toward this moment since Paris, and only a natural disaster was going to stop me.

After setting both of our wineglasses on the table, I climbed into his lap, then brought my mouth to his neck. I didn’t need words to show him what I wanted. I rocked my hips against his, and found his cock was as hard as steel already.

Gripping my ass in his palms, Smith pulled me closer. The wine and dessert and romance were forgotten. Our rising lust demanded attention.

“What do you want?” he murmured between stolen kisses.

“Everything,” I moaned, my lips brushing his as I spoke.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man.” Smith’s hands roamed up my sides until he reached my bra, his fingertips lightly teasing me.

“You’ve given me pleasure, gotten me off . . .” I licked my lips, meeting his eyes. “But I never got to return the favor.”

His eyes stayed locked on mine as I slid from the couch to my knees in front of him.

“Tonight I intend to change that.”

“Are you saying you want your mouth on my cock, Everleigh?” His tone was steady, but the deep hoarseness to his voice told me that was an idea he was very much okay with.

I reached for the button to his jeans, but he pushed my hand away.