I hold my breath, terrified she'll push past him, discover me naked in her father's bedroom. If it weren't for Tobias's hand, which was still powerfully squeezing my mouth, I would have definitely groaned in despair.
"I drove her home late last night," Tobias lies smoothly. "You have already passed out."
"Oh." Chloe sounds relieved. "That makes sense. Thanks for taking care of her, Dad."
"She will be okay." His voice softens. "You should text her later, check in."
"I will. Sorry to bother you."
"Never a bother, sweetheart."
The door closes with a soft click. We both stay frozen for several long seconds, listening to Chloe's footsteps retreat down the hall. Only when we hear her bedroom door close do we both exhale.
Tobias turns to look at me, and in the harsh morning light, the full reality of what we've done crashes over us. I'm standing naked in his bedroom, covered in his marks, having just lost my virginity to my best friend's father. My ex-boyfriend's father.
"Oh God," I whisper, starting to shake. "Oh God, what did we—"
"Hey, breathe." He crosses to me, cupping my face. "It's okay."
"It's not okay! Chloe almost…" I pull away, scrambling to find my clothes. My dress is wrinkled and still slightly damp from the pool. My underwear is somewhere in the sheets. "I have to go." I spot the window. "I'll go that way."
"Absolutely not. That's a twelve-foot drop."
"There's a trellis." I'm already pulling my dress over my head, not bothering with underwear. "I'll be fine."
"Ava, this is insane."
But I'm already pushing open the window, adrenaline making me reckless. "I can't walk through the house. What if someone sees me?"
"Then wait until…"
"I can't stay here!" The words come out too sharp, too panicked. I can see they hurt him, but I can't stop. I swing one leg over the windowsill.
"Ava, please, just wait—"
I'm already climbing out, barefoot, dress bunched in one hand as I navigate the trellis. It holds my weight for the first few feet, then I hear an ominous crack. My grip slips, and I fall the last three feet directly into his prized rose bushes.
"Fuck!" I hiss as thorns tear at my dress, scratch my legs.
"Are you okay?" Tobias's voice carries from the window, full of concern.
I pop up from the bushes, dress torn, hair full of rose petals, legs bleeding from tiny cuts.
I give him a mortified thumbs up, then take off running barefoot across the manicured lawn like an absolute lunatic, leaving the man I love shaking his head at the window, probably wondering what the hell he's gotten himself into.
***
My computer screen blurs as I stare at the same email for the fifth time, unable to process a single word. How am I supposed to work if my head is not?
"You look like hell."
I jump, nearly knocking over my coffee. Chloe stands beside my desk, arms crossed, studying me with those sharp eyes.
"Thanks. Really feeling the love."
"I'm serious, Ava. You haven't answered any of my texts, you're wearing your emergency concealer, the thick one, and you just jumped like I was a serial killer."
She perches on my desk, ignoring my attempt to look busy. "How about girl’s night at my place tonight?"
My stomach drops to my feet. "Chloe, I really don't think…"
"Tyler's staying at his friend's." She leans forward, concern replacing her usual snark. "It'll just be us, ice cream, and trash TV."
The genuine care in her voice makes guilt twist like a knife in my chest. Some best friend I am, sleeping with her father hours after she held me while I cried.
"I'll think about it, okay?"
I already know I'll turn the offer down. I simply can't show up at the Murphy house, can't sit on the same couch where everything started, can't pretend I don't know exactly what Tobias's bedroom ceiling looks like.
After Chloe leaves, I become an expert at avoidance.
I take the stairs instead of the elevator. Chart alternate routes to the bathroom that don't pass his office. Time my lunch break for when he has conference calls. Check the meeting room schedules obsessively to avoid any chance encounters.
For most of the day, it works. I manage to get through the morning without seeing him once, though I feel his presence like electricity in the air. Every time someone mentions his name, my body reacts—pulse racing, skin flushing.
By three o'clock, I think I might actually make it through the entire day. I'm reviewing documents in the supply closet-turned-filing room, the one place I know he never goes, when the door clicks shut behind me.
"You can't keep running from me."
"I'm not running." I keep my back to him, gripping the folder in my hands. "I'm working."
"Bullshit." The profanity surprises me—daytime Tobias rarely swears. Professional Tobias never does. "Every time I enter a room, you leave. You won't even look at me in meetings. You had Jordan deliver the grant proposal instead of bringing it yourself."
"Maybe I'm just being professional. Maintaining appropriate boundaries."
He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Appropriate boundaries? Is that what we're calling this?"
He moves closer, and I back against the filing cabinet, finally forced to face him. He looks wrecked—tie loose, hair mussed, dark circles under his eyes that match mine.
"What do you want me to say?" The words burst out of me. "That I destroyed everything for one night? That I can't look at you because I'm disgusted with myself?"
His hands come up to bracket me against the cabinet, not touching but close enough that I can feel his body heat, smell his cologne. My treacherous body responds immediately, remembering exactly how those hands felt on my skin.
"Do you know what torture it's been?" His voice drops lower, rougher. "Sitting in those meetings, pretending I don't know exactly how you taste? Watching you avoid me like I'm something shameful?"
"Wrong. It was wrong, Tobias."
"Was it wrong when you begged me not to stop? When you said you'd wanted it for years?"
Heat floods my face. "That's not fair."
He leans closer, his breath fanning across my cheek. "Do you think I don't know how complicated this is? Do you think I haven't thought through every consequence? But I can't pretend it didn't happen. I can't pretend I don't want it to happen again."
"Tobias…"
"Tell me you don't think about it," he challenges. "Tell me you don't want this and I—"
Voices in the hallway, getting closer. "Mr. Murphy? The governor's office is on line two."
He steps back so fast I feel cold, his professional mask sliding into place instantly. Not a hair out of place, no sign of the intensity that was burning in his eyes seconds ago.
"Be right there," he calls, voice perfectly normal.
He looks at me one more time, and the heat in his gaze makes my knees weak. "This conversation isn't over."
Then he's gone, leaving me pressed against the filing cabinet, breathing hard, body aching for something I can never have again.
The ache between my thighs is even worse, the memory of how perfectly he filled me, how right it felt to fall apart in his arms. I press my legs together, hating myself for wanting him even now, even knowing how impossible this is.