Page 2 of Meet Cute the Virgin

“Captive?” I shake my head no. Except the word isn’t that far off the mark, and we both know it. That doesn’t mean I have to admit it. Plus, I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. I’d also have to admit why I am this way with her.

I want to keep her safe. Victor was murdered. Lily doesn’t know that, however. She believes he had a heart attack. Being the head of the FBI puts a target on your head. I have one of my own, but it’s more related to money. Either way, we still have never found the killer, and after all these years, I’m not sure we will. That shit eats at me.

I know it would eat at Lily too. So much so she’d be trying to figure out who did it herself. The day he died, he’d wanted to meet up. I could hear the uncertainty in his voice. Victor was certain of everything he did, or at least he appeared that way.

“What do you call it? I’m not allowed to go anywhere.”

“Where would you like to go?” I’m sure I can have it arranged. There will be guidelines and a shit ton of security, but I’m not unreasonable… completely.

“What if I simply want to go visit someone? Go on vacation? Leave without an entourage.” It’s a fight not to react. Her question alone gets under my skin in a way only she can. The fact that she wants to get away from me? I don’t like that at all.

“Who do you want to visit?”

Lily’s lips press together in a fine line. “Not the point.”

“But there is someone.”

She glances away and then back to me. I know it’s true. I’ve learned to read her. Obsessively so.

How and fucking who is this person she suddenly wants to go and see? Nothing happens in this penthouse that I don’t know about. All electronics are monitored, and you can’t be sneaking in and out.

There are only two doors, which are both guarded in person and by camera. She has a few online book clubs that appear harmless, but there’s one encrypted contact I haven’t been able to trace. I won’t tell her I know this; then she would try to cover it up. I can’t show my cards.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I have a clone of her phone that feeds to my laptop. I know it’s extensive. I didn’t start out this way. It was one small thing I’d do to make sure she was safe and then another. They all added up, and together they make me appear like a fucking psycho stalker. Now we’re here, and hell, she is a captive.

Chapter Two

LILY

Growing up with a father who was a drill sergeant and later the head of the FBI, one would think I would be more disciplined. I am with certain things. Biting my tongue, however, isn’t one of them.

These have been some of the hardest days of my life doing so. I can tell it’s getting to Tristan, which is what really counts. He’s becoming more and more ridiculous with his rules around here. There’s no way in hell I’m going to keep quiet about it. I don’t understand it.

He stares at me from the other side of the kitchen island. Tristan’s dark hair always looks slightly messy, as if he just rolled out of bed, despite how put-together he always is.

The sharp line of his jaw is striking, and I can’t help but notice how his tailored suit stretches across his broad shoulders. His intense eyes seem to see right through me, and I feel hyperaware of every detail, a fact that both frustrates and fascinates me.

I pretend not to be affected by him, but the truth is, he has affected me from day one. Even when he was only a name my father said, although it was one he said often.

At first, I was jealous of Tristan. I hadn’t met him yet, but I knew my dad was proud of him. My dad always told me he was proud of me too, but I can’t help but wonder if he would have preferred a son. He’d never say that, but that’s jealousy for you. It doesn’t allow you to think rationally. The more Tristan was in my life, the more I realized this.

I was so used to it only being my dad and me for so long. He had been a single parent from day one. I was dropped off practically on his doorstep. At least that’s what I was told. Back then, my father was still in the military. My life had been filled with military men. He’d take me to work with him and everywhere else.

That said, while I was rough and tumble when I was little, I was never one of the guys. Not that I didn’t enjoy most of the men my father trained. He always had a tight-knit unit. I was sad when he left to work for the FBI, knowing I’d miss everyone, but this career shift meant he could have a steadier schedule.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from asking Tristan what the fuck he’s staring at. I wish I could pull out my phone and play on it, but I’m not trying to draw attention to it. I’m pretty sure he’s monitoring it, as he does everything in my life. I’m not sure how we got here, but here we are, and I’m over it at this point.

That jealousy I once had for Tristan quickly turned into a crush. One that never left me, even when I wanted to punch him in the throat. That’s why I’ve let it go on for this long, but it’s coming to the end.

“I need to get going.”

“That’s greatfor you,” I say dryly and like I could give a shit less. Except I do, and I hate thatfor me.

He always has to get going. Where the hell is he going all the time? I’m stuck here. I mean, there are worse places to be stuck. I know that. There is a lot of shit I could do around this house,but everything lately is dull. I’m stuck in this loop, and I have to get out of here before I lose my mind. If I could get away, this crush and fascination I have for him might start to fade.

Tristan studies me, and I have to pretend I don’t notice.

“Do you really want to go on vacation?” The question is almost hesitant.