I groaned when I reached the corner of 5th Avenue, my eyes on the Tiffany wall now wearing a fresh coat of white paint. I remembered the look on my mother’s face when Dad had presented her with a Tiffany blue box every year for her birthday. In the later years, the gifts grew bigger, glitzier, more ostentatious, and my mother loved them. I should have known then he was up to no good, asking for silent forgiveness with every diamond-encrusted gift.

The doorman of Devlynn’s building opened the door on a cab, and my girl stepped out.

My girl.

“She’s not your girl, idiot.” I verbally kicked myself for the mistake as I sprinted across the street, narrowly avoiding her cab speeding out of the valet entrance. He crushed on his horn and threw me the finger before skittering off the curb and onto the street.

I shook my head, straightening my black jacket and mouthing fucker at the driver.

“Hey, Elis. Are you okay?”

I smelled the soft scent of her floral perfume before I laid eyes on her. Her tender words of concern wrapped around my barbed edges like a warm blanket.

“Fine,” I spat, turning to narrow my eyes at her. “Where were you?”

Her grin dropped on one side, and she removed her palm from my forearm as she turned, quilted backpack staring me in the face. “What’s it to you?”

“I didn’t come here to watch you walk away from me.” I caught her elbow, forcing her to stop and look at me.

I liked the rattled look on her face. Found myself wanting to see it while she was naked and writhing underneath me.

Her chin tipped up, and her eyes narrowed. “Maybe you came to watch me? I’ve seen you out there at the edge of the park.”

I shook my head, no excuse except the truth. “I wanted to see you. Come with me.”

She assessed me slowly, pressing her full lips together before she glanced up to the top of the building, to the sky, and then back to me. “Why?”

She waited, but I said nothing.

“Whatever this back-and-forth, love-hate game you’re playing is about, I’m not here for it. I don’t have time. I didn’t then, and I sure as hell don’t now.”

She backed away, but I caught her wrist, pulling her to me until our chests brushed. “This isn’t a game.”

“Then why does it feel like one?”

“Nothing with you has ever been a game.” I enunciated the last four words, my eyes holding hers as something intense burned inside my chest. “That’s the part that fucks with my head the most—that you’re so in my head. All. The. Time.”

“That’s not my problem, Elis.”

“Right now, it is. Come with me.”