My day would be long, and I didn’t want to do any of it. Not the paperwork or dealing with Addison or putting the finishing touches on Angelika’s wedding. Two weeks, and this whole ordeal would be over. I hoped last night would be the worst of it, that abominable birthday party plaguing my calendar for weeks. Now there was only one thing left to do—I’d get through this wedding, make it the best goddamn event the Felixes had ever seen, and be on my merry way.

“That bad?” Kash asked. I could hear him smirking.

“What gave it away?” I turned around in his arms, our legs scissoring together.

“You sighed.”

“Did I?”

“It’s how I know you’re worrying over something. You’ll sigh in forty-five-second intervals until I distract you.”

A smile pulled at my lips. “Well, you’ve always said you were an excellent distraction. How lucky am I that you’re mine?”

“Yours,” he said, testing the word. “I think I like that.”

“I think I do too.”

I angled for his lips, and he met me halfway, as he always did.

I only let myself get a little carried away before I slid out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

A long, slow whistle sounded at my back. When I turned, Kash was propped up on one arm, head on his hammer fist.

“Now, that is a sight I’ll be thinking about all day.”

As my gaze swept over his visage, I said, “You and me both.” And with a promising smile, I turned and strutted away.

When the door slid closed behind me, I clicked on the light around the sinks, surprised for a moment by my reflection. But only for a moment—the girl in the mirror had become familiar to me over the weeks with Kash. I liked her, liked being her. Wished for her life, which I fantasized about more often than I’d ever admit, and did again as I stepped into the shower.

Only now it wasn’t just a daydream. Now it was a possibility.

Her life was simple, slower. Lazy afternoons on the couch with a book in my lap and my feet in his while he sketched. We’d have a dog—he just seemed like the kind of man who should have a dog, and while I didn’t have some personal drive to be a pet owner, I wanted him to be with a deep desire that surprised me. I imagined trotting down the stairs of some nearby brownstone and into Longbourne, floating into the greenhouse just to give him a kiss and hear how the dahlias were doing. Maybe I owned my own firm, something smaller, with more room for fun and less room for demand. In this fantasy, we lived together, with regular family dinners with the Bennets and my sister.