Cherisse sighed, and Keiran’s smile was a tad sheepish, but he rolled with it. She’d given in to her curiosity and had watched the video. The comments were mostly speculation on whether they’d been fighting over her, but Cherisse hadn’t delved too deeply into them. That was a time suck, and she’d possibly get pissed off again. But not enough to not have sex with Keiran, in a goddamn closet, of all things. She didn’t recognize herself. Cherisse Gooding didn’t have hot—God, so fucking hot—sex in public spaces. The risk of being caught was too great, as well as a threat to her carefully crafted persona.

“Hey, Reba,” Keiran said. “We’re getting along just fine, aren’t we?” He winked at Cherisse, and she looked away, cheeks flaming. Damn him.

The tour went smoothly, for the most part. The only hiccup was when Reba asked what door that was—the supply room door—and tour guy enthusiastically went on about it. It was literally just a place to stash stuff; why was this guy so excited about it? Cherisse chalked it up to his default setting, but it didn’t help that he was lingering here. Reba had ended up walking next to him, which left Cherisse and Keiran trailing behind, side by side.

“He’s really selling this closet. Not that he needs to, to me.” Keiran’s voice was so close to her ear, it startled her. “Ten outta ten, would bang in it again.”

Cherisse snorted. She couldn’t help it. She’d meant to scowl at him, elbow him for bringing that up. Tour guy and Reba looked over at them.

“It’s a really nice closet,” Cherisse said, head bobbing, struggling to keep a straight face.

Reba’s eyes swung back and forth between her and Keiran. Cherisse could see the wheels turning. She hoped they weren’t giving off any we just had sex in this closet vibes because she’d told no one about that rainy night. Not even Remi. Not yet. She would, but she was trying to wrap her head around what she was doing. And since she’d gone and done it again, her just-a-one-time-thing excuse was slowly unraveling.

The rest of the visit went by as expected. The guy, Aron, he reminded them, kept on his overly enthusiastic spiel all the while trying to impress Reba, who wasn’t having any of it but was obviously amused. Cherisse kept her work armor on, refusing to get drawn into Keiran’s jokes and quips. That was as distracting as his chest in that t-shirt. Knowing what his chest looked like under the damn thing made it even worse.

She needed to get her mind off this, so when Remi texted about going to the gym, she jumped on that. Remi had been trying to get Cherisse to come be her gym buddy for a while now. Cherisse could admit she’d slacked off, been inconsistent, so it could be just the thing she needed. She grimaced at the thought of Remi’s trainer. The guy was a beast and didn’t like excuses. Cherisse was full of them. Maybe she’d just stick to an aerobics class or something. She actually liked those.