The next evening, after another long day of pretending to work while replaying our balcony kiss on loop, my doorbell rang again.

I opened it to find Charles holding a bottle of wine and wearing that dangerous smirk I was starting to crave.

“I come in peace,” he said, holding up the bottle. “And excellent wine. Can I tempt you?”

I leaned against the doorframe, trying to look unimpressed even though my heart was racing. “Depends. Are you going to behave?”

“Probably not.”

I laughed and let him in.

We didn’t even make it to the couch.

The moment the door closed, he set the wine down and pulled me...