“Uh, Ryan . . .” She laced her fingers together in her lap, listening to the tick, tick of the blinker, hoping with each beat he was simply turning around. “Doing a U-turn? Need an extra set of eyes?”

The instant the back bumper of the approaching car on the other side of the road passed, Ryan whipped the wheel and the Tesla tore across at such speed that it flung Lucy into the back of her seat—hard. The seat belt pulled taut, compressing her chest, and her purse flew to the floor.

“I’m all good. This baby never disappoints.” Ryan stroked the dash. “You know what else doesn’t disappoint?”

Lucy struggled against the constricting seat belt.

“The view from my living room.” He tilted his head back and gestured to the three-story white mansion in front of them. “You said you loved the water, and this is the way to see it.”

A chill shivered Lucy’s spine, and she tried not to show it. “I’m sure it’s lovely, it’s just that I’m awfully tired.” She gave a half laugh. “Food coma, and the rest of me wants to follow, so maybe we should just—”

A hand

Flattened

Against

Her

Thigh.

A hand

Not

Belonging

To

Her.

His.

It was his.

Ryan’s hand.

Touching her.

Not by accident.

“Tired? But the night is young,” he said, the pressure of his palm deepening.

She froze everywhere but her heart, which beat, thudded, thumped, throbbed, raced, pounded, hammered her chest, and all Lucy wanted was to hit restart on this night and be in the dorm room watching Maddie inhale zucchini-flour pancakes and Delia deny she was falling for Eric Shaw.

Instead she was here, with Ryan Thompson, Pulse founder, ValleyStart funder, Silicon Valley icon, who wanted to take her product to market.

Ryan leaned in close. “The hot tub on the roof’s always fired up.”

But that wasn’t all he wanted.

“I—I can’t,” Lucy said. This is why he asked me to dinner? Not because of her ideas or abilities or how well Lit was doing . . . She felt like a fool. “It’s just, Maddie and Delia—”

“Will forgive you. Well, maybe not after you Zuckerberg them, but for this, for tonight, they’ll understand.” The pressure of Ryan’s hand lifted, and Lucy began to shift in her seat when the pressure returned, only now, higher.

“You’re Crushing It,” he said. “Be nice to stay that way.”

“I . . . what?” Lucy couldn’t act, couldn’t think. And then Ryan’s hand began to move, and she kicked into gear, shoving him off and flattening her back against the passenger side door. “Maddie and Delia are waiting for me, and I’m not betraying them, and you need to take me home. Now.”