Page 55 of You Owe Me

She spots me, grabs my hand, and yells, “run!”

And we do.

Together. Like Thelma and Louise, if they’d been soaked, half-sobbing with laughter, and fleeing a fancy fundraiser instead of the law.

We weave through the chaos, slipping past security too distracted to notice the two drowned rats sprinting toward the nearest exit. I clutch the coat tighter around me, like it’s my ticket out of this mess.

Because it is.

Carter’s jacket swings wildly around my knees as we burst through the double doors, water still dripping from our hair, our dresses, everywhere.

We don’t stop running until we’ve made it down the steps and around the corner, out of sight from the ballroom and anyone holding a badge or a grudge.

My heart is trying to punch through my ribcage. My lungs are staging a protest. My heels have betrayed me.

But none of that matters.

Because when I finally stop, I feel it.

Tucked inside the jacket. Heavy. Solid.

The phone.

Carter Mills’s precious, overprotected, strategy-loaded phone.

Gotcha.

Eliza doubles over next to me, laughing so hard she’s wheezing. “That. Was. Beautiful.”

“Tell me I didn’t just commit a felony in four-inch heels for nothing.”

She straightens, makeup running like a soap opera heroine, and pats the coat. “Nope. Totally worth it.”

I take a breath. A big one. And stare down at the jacket in my hands. “I gotcha, prick. Nobody messes with my man.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Rumor has it, someone was screaming from their apartment.

Maverick

There are twelve IOUs on the floor.

One in her cleavage.

Two tucked into the waistband of her underwear.

And one clenched between her teeth like she’s posing for a very specific kind of mugshot.

“You’re insane,” I mutter, reaching for a marker.

Ainsley grins around the card. “You started it.”

I swipe a new card off the floor, cap my marker with my teeth, and scrawl her name across it. “I warned you.”

“You also said ‘don’t move.’” She raises a brow, wiggling just enough to make her point—and maybe flash me again on purpose. “But then you licked my thigh like I was the last popsicle in a heatwave, so…”

I grab her ankle and drag her closer, across the poker table, ignoring her squeal as the cards scatter like confetti. “You didn’t follow instructions.”

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