Page 79 of My Only

But the calm I was searching for never came.

Hassani hadn’t responded to that message.

That was good. That was something.

But it did nothing to soothe my frustration when I saw the message she’d sent him tonight.

Harper: Saw this today and thought of you. Would look great in your office.

Attached was a photo of a D-Slam sculpture. Another ugly, overpriced mess, just like the one sitting on our coffee bar.

I stared at the screen, my stomach tightening.

Thought of you?

What the hell did that even mean?

My fingers hovered over the phone, tempted to scroll up further, to see what other shit she had to say in past weeks.

But I hesitated.

Did I really want to know?

I squeezed my lips together, my pulse humming in my ears.

This isn’t me.

I don’t check Hassani’s phone. I don’t dig. I don’t snoop.

But why did I feel like I should?

A sudden movement in my peripheral made my heart jump.

I looked up.

Hassani was only a few feet away.

I swallowed hard, a flicker of guilt making my hands shake as I closed out of his phone and set it back on the table.

I didn’t do anything wrong… right?

Pushing my chair back, I stood quickly. “I’ll be back.”

I walked past him, but he caught me by the hand, stopping me.

His eyes—golden, warm, always seeing right through me—searched my face. “You good, baby?”

My heart kicked up, but I forced an easy smile. “Yeah.” I squeezed his hand, then gently pulled free. “I’ll be right back.”

I made my way toward the restroom, willing my pulse to settle.

But the moment I stepped inside, I went straight to the vanity, pressing my palms against the cool surface.

What the hell is this woman’s problem?

She had to know what she was doing was inappropriate.

Lifting my gaze to the mirror, I caught my reflection. And what I saw made me pause.

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