Chapter 2: You Still Wear That Cologne

Lily's POV

The next morning, I'm sitting by the window at the coffee shop below Sterling Tower.

This isn't a coincidence.

Gabe's habits haven't changed. Eight AM, black coffee, no sugar, no milk. Like clockwork.

It's seven fifty-five. I'm wearing a black V-neck dress. Nothing crazy, but enough to get noticed.

Eight o'clock hits.

The door opens.

He walks in wearing a suit that probably costs more than my rent, hair perfectly styled. The second he sees me, his steps falter.

"Gabe!" I flash him my brightest smile. "What are the odds?"

His expression darkens. He walks over anyway. "Lily."

"Still drinking it black?" I already know the answer.

"Yeah." He's studying me. "What are you doing here?"

"Meeting a client nearby." The lie rolls off my tongue. "You work in this building?"

"Sterling Group headquarters."

"Oh wow. Guess we'll be running into each other a lot then."

His throat bobs. "Maybe."

He grabs his coffee and leaves.

But I catch him glancing back at me once.

Quick, but enough.

Over the next week, I accidentally show up everywhere he goes.

His gym. I get a membership.

The place he grabs lunch. I'm suddenly craving their salads.

His dry cleaner. What a coincidence, I have clothes to drop off too.

Each time he spots me, I watch his expression shift from neutral to something closer to resignation.

Friday night, an invitation shows up at my door.

Sender: Owen Sterling.

A welcome-back party for Gabe's return.

I know it's a trap. But I'm going anyway.

Because Gabe will be there.

The party's at the Sterling estate. A massive Victorian mansion sitting on three acres of manicured lawn. Neither Gabe nor Owen ever brought me here.

Tonight I'm wearing a deep red dress with an open back, hair twisted into a loose knot.

The hall is already packed when I arrive. Unlike the formal family dinner I'd imagined filled with elders, the crowd is mostly younger guests and people from other families. Music and laughter blend together, champagne tower glittering gold under the lights.

I walk in. Nobody notices me.

To them, I'm just another forgettable stranger.

I grab a glass of champagne and retreat to a corner. Just as I'm looking for somewhere to stay out of the way, a voice comes from behind me.

"Lily!" Owen walks with a new blonde on his arm. "You made it."

His smile is cold.

The blonde looks me up and down like she's sizing up livestock. "So this is the one Owen mentioned?"

"Yep. My ex-girlfriend, Lily Hart." He emphasizes the ex.

"Owen said you work with art?" Her tone makes it sound like I'm unemployed.

"Gallery manager," I correct.

"Oh." She smiles like that explains everything.

Then I see him.

Gabe's across the room, surrounded by a cluster of people, whiskey in hand, wearing a navy suit that fits him like it was made for his body alone. He's tonight's guest of honor. Everyone wants to talk to him.

Our eyes meet.

His gaze drops from my face to my bare back. Stays there for two seconds.

Two seconds is too long.

Long enough to make my skin prickle.

Owen notices. He laughs, pulling his date closer. "By the way, Lily, Brittany here's a professional dancer. Very flexible, if you know what I mean." He leans in, voice dropping. "Way better at keeping a man satisfied than you ever were."

Before I can respond, a low voice cuts through from behind me.

"That's enough, Owen."

Gabe's beside me now. He doesn't touch me, but his presence feels like a wall between Owen and me.

"What's wrong, Uncle Gabe?" Owen's smirk is poison. "Hit a nerve?"

Gabe's jaw tightens. "Watch your mouth."

"Or maybe," Owen moves closer, voice low enough that only the three of us can hear, "Uncle's had a thing for Lily all along?"

The air goes dead.

Gabe's hands ball into fists, veins visible.

But he says nothing. Just turns and walks away.

I watch him go, my chest tight like someone's squeezing my heart.

Halfway through the party, I've had too much champagne.

Not really drunk, but drunk enough to have an excuse.

By ten, guests start trickling out. I make my way toward the parking lot, deliberately passing Gabe's car.

"Lily."

His voice stops me.

I turn, letting myself sway a little.

He moves fast, arm catching my waist to steady me.

And there it is.

His cologne. Tom Ford Oud Wood.

Four years, and he's still wearing the same one.

"You've had too much." He's frowning. "Let me drive you home."

"I'm fine." But I lean into him anyway, soaking in his warmth.

He goes rigid for a beat, then sighs and guides me to his car.

Inside, the leather seats smell like money and his cologne mixed together.

I'm in the passenger seat, stealing glances at him.

His profile's all sharp lines, focused on the road. It reminds me of four years ago. All those mornings he drove me to school. All those evenings he picked me up from the gallery.

"You're still using that cologne."

His hand jerks on the wheel.

"Force of habit."

"Same." My voice comes out small. "I got used to that smell."

He doesn't answer, but I see his throat move.

"I missed you." The champagne makes me brave. "Every single day for four years."

"Lily... you're drunk."

"I'm not." I shift in my seat to face him fully. "Gabe, did you miss me?"

Silence.

Long, heavy silence.

Red light.

He stops the car. Turns to look at me.

His eyes are dark, bottomless, like they could swallow me whole.

"Don't ask me that."

"Why not?"

"Because you won't like the answer."

We reach my building. I stumble getting out, falling against him.

Gabe catches me. Our faces are inches apart.

I can feel his breath.

I can see the war in his eyes.

"Kiss me," I whisper.

His gaze drops to my mouth.

Stays there for three seconds.

Then he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and practically pushes me upright.

"Get inside. Lock your door."

He's back in his car and gone before I can say anything else.

I watch his taillights disappear into the night.

A smile tugs at my lips.

He doesn't want to resist.

He's just forcing himself to.

So I'll make sure he can't resist anymore.