Page 73 of Gold Rush

I smile. “Yeah. The client was pretty pleased. He actually, uh … he asked me out on a date after.” I rub my big toe against the fluffy rug.

Flynn was about to run a hand through his hair. His arm drops. “What did you say?”

“That there was a policy against dating former clients. And … that I wasn’t single.”

His gaze sweeps lower, from my face to my silky pajamas. It’s the same set I was wearing when he surprised me at Scarlett and Crew’s. I wonder if he recognizes them.

“What’d you have for dinner?”

“Pasta. With the pesto you made. There are leftovers in the fridge, if you’re hungry. Or if you want to take some for lunch tomorrow.”

He nods, checking his watch. “Fuck, it’s late.”

But he doesn’t stand.

“What are you watching?” I glance at the screen. Ads are playing.

“Dunno.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It was a football replay when I fell asleep.”

“Your mom texted me earlier.” Philippa asked for my number before we left the Parkses’ house last weekend. “She asked about dinner, Labor Day weekend. I have Lili’s bachelorette party, but if you’d rather it just be the three of you …”

“Definitely not,” Flynn says swiftly.

“So, I’ll suggest the weekend after?”

He exhales. “Sure. I forgot about the bachelorette party. You guys are going to Montreal, right?”

I nod.

“Should I propose before then so you don’t have to make up any other policies?”

I smile. “Lili and Wren will be there. I’m sure they’ll be the ones attracting most of the attention.”

Flynn holds my gaze, appearing dead serious as he says, “I’m not.”

My blood feels carbonated again.

“You look hot.” He was hard in the bathroom.

I wouldn’t say Flynn has ever hit on me. What he has done is make me feel sexy and desirable—what these pajamas, purchased at the start of the summer after my boyfriend publicly announced he preferred someone else, were supposed to accomplish.

I reach for the remote, turning off the television. “I’d like to wait to get engaged until after Lili’s wedding. I don’t want to distract from her big day. I know it’s a while to wait, and you want your trust fund as soon as⁠—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts. “I figured you’d want to wait until then.”

“You did?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s classic, considerate you.”

“Don’t you miss sex?” I blurt.

Flynn is silent. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“Is that an invitation to set off the smoke alarm the next time you’re in the shower?” he asks. “Because I can see your nipples through that top, but you got full frontal.”

I’m sitting down, yet I feel a little lightheaded. I’ve always taken some pride in my ability to hold my own against Flynn. But this is a different game, and he’s the more experienced player.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”