Page 47 of Double Standards
I hold my breath as the message lights up as being read. Whatever she’s doing to me—whether she knows it or not—she’s infecting me. Like a good kind of poison you crave, willingly swallowing it even if it takes your soul. She’s the perfect mix of light and shadow. The bad ass who commanded that courtroom with fire and conviction—that’s the side of her I want to see more of.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and my eyes lock on the single word waiting on the screen.
Cassidy: Office.
I grunt quietly to myself. I was hoping for more—a little something to hold onto—but then I realize my message left almost no room for that. She’s replying simply because my text was blunt and bare.
Me: Want some company? A
Maybe it’s the quarter bottle of whiskey Hunter shoved down my throat, but every shred of rationality has drained from me. I know I’m walking a razor-thin line with Cassie—the thinnest line between professional and personal—but I can’t help it. This has become personal. After a week of barely hearing from her, plus everything that went down this afternoon, I’m craving nothing more than her company.
Standing up, I dust off my pants, and set the glass down on the side table. Max rises to follow, but I wave him off with a quick, dismissive gesture.
“You not stayin’, Ax?” Hunter calls out from behind me.
“Nah... I’m beat,” I lie.
Trigger bumps fists with me, Hunter following suit. “See you tomorrow, brother,” they both murmur as I head for the door.
The music pulses loudly as I walk down the long corridor overlooking the dance floor. Bodies glisten with sweat, the bass thumping out a rhythm that guides every sway and shuffle.
For a moment, I get lost in the lights and heavy beat, watching how carefree they all seem down there. I never had the chance to feel that freedom. Groomed for this role since birth, it’s never been mine to claim. Still, I don’t envy them. I’m where I’m meant to be. But a tiny part of me wonders—just for a minute—what it would feel like to be weightless, like the world isn’t gripping me by the shoulders and dragging me down.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. A thin smile tugs at my lips as I read the message.
Cassie: Okay.
I let my heart twist into something unfamiliar as I step out of the nightclub, my car already waiting out front. Ignoring the alcohol buzzing through my system, I slide into the driver’s seat and start up the engine, relishing the purr of my Mercedes SLK.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m walking the polished corridors of the law firm. Security let me right through without question—I guess my name carries some weight around here after all. Cassie’s office door is propped open, giving me a clear view of her golden hair, twisted tightly in her palm as she focuses intently on the papers spread out before her.
I rap my knuckles lightly on the glass, startling her. But as soon as her eyes meet mine, her shoulders relax, and a slow smile spreads across her face. She leans back in her chair, the tension easing.
“He knocks,” she snarks, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Only for you,” I shoot back with a wink. The blush that creeps up her cheeks makes her glance away, her gaze dropping back to her desk. She falls silent, but I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, tilting my head, genuinely curious.
“Nothing,” she replies, her voice unusually bright. There’s a flicker of something else in her eyes, a shadow I can’t quite place. Or maybe it’s just the whiskey talking.
“Let’s go for a drink,” I suggest, stepping closer.
Her green eyes snap back to me, sizing me up. For a moment, they glaze over, then she deadpans, “You’ve already been drinking.”
I respond with an exaggerated eye roll and close the distance to her desk, planting my hands firmly on either side.
“It’s no fun celebrating if I can’t do it with the person who’skept me out of jail.” I grin, leaning in and letting my gaze linger on her lips.
She bites her bottom lip, and damn, I want to tug on it with my thumb and press my mouth to hers. I bet they’re soft, and?—
“We have two weeks to make sure Daniels doesn’t try to falsify evidence. I can’t afford to let my guard down right now,” she says without missing a beat. I realize she’s been talking this whole time and I’ve been distracted, ogling her lips and imagining what I could do with them—what I want to do for her.
Damnwhiskey.It needs to calm down before it gets me into real trouble.
“You think he will?” I ask, my voice firmer than I intended.
Cassie rounds the desk, stretching her slender legs. Her shirt slips out of her skirt just enough to reveal a flash of skin, and she doesn’t even notice.Fuck, I feel like a horny teenager again. The sight of her stomach alone is sending my mind spiraling out of control.
