“Nadia would never intentionally destroy clothes. It’s wasteful. And you’ve spent enough time with her to guess that she’s not really the ‘rush into your arms’ kind of person.”

“No,” I say miserably.

“Nadia,” Darren says quietly, “is the ‘meticulously plan how to fit all the people and things she really loves into her life’ kind of person. And if she said she wanted to look good for you, it’s because — and I know this to be true — she’s spent the last two weeks dreaming about tonight and how it will go. Just like you.”

I’m blinking, staring at the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Maybe it’s a good thing that work is holding me up.” I start to protest, but he cuts me off. “Maybe what you two need is some time without me to get to know each other better.”

I frown. “And how do you feel about that?”

I can hear the adorable smile on his face as soon as he speaks. “I want this to work,” he says gently. “I want both of you, and I want both of you to want each other. If that means that sometimes I have to take a back seat,” his voice dips to a dangerously deep tone here, “I’m okay with that.”

“Yeah?” I say, slipping my hand under my dress and between my legs. I just need to cup my pussy to calm my nerves, but my God, the way his voice sounds right now is making my skin warm. “What’re you gonna do while we get acquainted?”

His laugh is dry, needy, gorgeous. “I’ll show you as soon as I get there,” he says.

I moan. “You better.”

“Is that my husband?”

I turn in a rush, my hand still between my legs, the phone still pressed to the side of my head. I feel guilty even though there’s no need for that. But the thrill of feeling like I’ve been caught doing something that I shouldn’t is delicious.

“Is that my husband?” she asks again, a hotel towel wrapped around her body, balled into her fist above her left breast in a death grip.

“Answer her,” Darren purrs into my ear.

“Yes,” I say, my pussy melting and wetting my fingertips.

“And what is he saying?”

I swallow a lump in my throat. “He wants us to spend some time together while we wait for him,” I say, my eyes darting to her chest and then back to her face.

I swear to God, the next few moments happen in slow motion. The smile forms on her face in seconds that feel like hours. Her grip loosens over the matter of days. The towel falls to the floor in seconds but also weeks. I enjoy every moment.

“Breathe,” Darren tells me in a soft voice.

I exhale.