_______

Rick's POV - that morning
_______

I organize the papers strewn across my desk, aligning and stacking them, engrossed in the task to attempt to distract myself from my upcoming flight. Despite my efforts, the flutter of nerves beneath my skin persists at the thought of going on this trip with Adams.

God, I'm pathetic.

A sharp knock on the door makes me look up, my heart throttling as Adams strides into my office, her hair down and gently flowing around her shoulders. My brows raise slightly as she approaches me, holding out a file.

"Last bit of information on Smith's attorney," Cass's smooth voice announces as I look up at her, my throat constricting as that damn citrus scent washes over me once again.

I choose to take the time to stand up before I accept the file from her, smoothly standing up and buttoning my jacket. This elicits a sigh of impatience from Cass at having to wait a second more.

"Got somewhere to be?" I tease, tilting my head to the side as my fingers wrap around the end of the manila folder near me.

Cass huffs, the tension on the file in our hands tightening. "We have to be in Georgia in a few hours, I need to pack," she says tersely before quickly letting go of the file, which I take with an easy smile.

"We're there for a couple of days, how much packing could you possibly need to do?" I question teasingly, amusement blooming in my chest at the clear annoyance that flits through her features.

"What I pack is none of your business, pussy boy," Cass responds with raised eyebrows, her choice of words catching me off guard, nearly causing me to choke as I emit a strained laugh of surprise.

"'Pussy boy'?" I repeat in bewilderment, my chest light with breathlessness. This woman will be the death of me.

My heart rate spikes at the sly look that flickers across Cass's expression. "Well, you have a pussy, don't you?" she smoothly teases, tilting her head in a gesture that leaves me momentarily speechless, my brows knitting in wild confusion.

Cass grins broadly. "The black cat, Louise, if I remember right," she elaborates calmly with raised eyebrows, making me pause, a smile of disbelief tugging at my mouth.

Right.

"Come on, Grimes, you need to work on that dirty mind of yours," Cass tsks disapprovingly, sending me a smug look before smoothly turning on her heel and walking to the door.

My chest tightens as I watch her go, stunned by the woman in front of me. I ignore her command to work on my "dirty mind," my gaze lingering on the way her skirt accentuates her figure as she walks away. Working on my dirty mind would be a lot easier if I didn't have her striding around our office or sprawled out half-naked in my bed.

"Hey, Glenn!" Cass's sudden greeting pulls my attention away, her mischievous grin transforming into a genuine smile as she sees our friend. I realize Glenn is standing in the doorway, swiftly drawn into a friendly hug by Cass.

I watch Cass and Glenn smile broadly as they briefly interact in the doorway to my office. Seeing the way Cass genuinely smiles back at him, clapping his shoulder and nodding encouragingly, stirs an ache in my chest.

God, she's beautiful.

The realization of how deeply my feelings for her are developing hits me like a truck, causing me to inhale sharply and quickly avert my gaze. When it was just about my desire for her, it felt manageable. But now, these emotions are evolving at an alarming rate.

And it's scaring the shit out of me.

"Bye!" Glenn's voice rings out, prompting me to glance up and catch him waving at Cass as she gracefully exits. I watch her go for a moment, my eyes hungrily moving down her figure with a mind of their own.

God, I need to control myself.

Suddenly remembering Glenn's presence, I casually redirect my gaze from Cass's retreating ass to Glenn, only to flinch when I find him grinning broadly at me.

My stomach drops.

Shit.

"Sup boss," Glenn says casually, his sly smirk not leaving his face as he strolls in, closing the glass door behind him.

I clear my throat, tilting my head slightly in acknowledgment. "Glenn," I return the greeting, feeling a surge of nerves at his expression.

"What was that look?" Glenn asks curiously, dropping onto one of the chairs across from my desk, crossing his ankle over his knee.

Smiling faintly, I take my seat as well, avoiding his penetrating gaze, my stomach knotting with apprehension. "What look?" I feign innocence, focusing on my laptop screen and pretending to sift through emails, attempting to drown out the thundering of my heartbeat.

Shit shit shit shit.

"The eye-fucking look you sent to Cass," Glenn remarks casually, making me inhale far too sharply, my stomach plummeting. Panicked, my eyes flick to his, wide as my mind lags to come up with a response.

In a matter of seconds, astonishment floods Glenn's features, his eyes widening as they read my expression.

"Oh my god," he murmurs, still studying me intently, exacerbating the chaotic swirl of panic in my gut and heart.

"Glenn—" I begin, but the words catch in my throat, my mind racing to come up with an explanation.

"You're not deflecting," Glenn breathes, leaning forward, blinking rapidly, his grin replaced with a serious expression.

"You're looking too much into thi-"

"-You like her!" Glenn interrupts with amazement, making my stomach lurch as I quickly look at the door to make sure no one heard, earning a gasp from Glenn. "You do! Oh my god!" Glenn exclaims, making me let out a groan of defeat, running a hand down my face.

For fucks sake.

"Glenn, I swear to God, if you cut me off one more time," I begin sternly, issuing a warning that quickly quiets him down. Releasing a controlled breath, I mentally prepare myself. "I don't know what I feel but you cannot-"

"What happened? I heard about the weekend, but something happened right? I saw how you just looked at her! Like you've seen her nak-"

"-Glenn." I snap, cutting off my rambling associate. He blinks at me for a second, still seeming in shock. "Nothing happened. I'm just- going through a lot as you know and she's a convenient... distraction," I explain through gritted teeth, a grimace forming on my face, causing Glenn to narrow his eyes.

Glenn looks at me for a second, his brows furrowed and mouth parted in disgust, not needing to say a word. I can tell what he's thinking simply from his expression. You're kidding, right?

I tilt my head to the side, sending him a blank look. Not sure what you mean.

Glenn raises his eyebrows expectantly, crossing his arms. You know exactly what I mean. And you're better than this.

Letting out an exasperated exhale, I shake my head, feeling my heart pound against my ribcage. "Fine, I... I like her, alright?" I admit through clenched teeth, my skin prickling with discomfort, and I swear Glenn practically squeals with delight.

I widen my eyes at him at his ridiculous reaction as he sits forward excitedly. "D'you know what this means?" Glenn asks me, his brown eyes scanning my features as I look at him warily.

"That I'm a complete idiot?" I retort dryly, pinching the bridge of my nose and leaning back in my seat.

How could I have let myself have feelings for the one woman in this office who hates me?

It has to be self-destructive tendencies at this point.

"She's the first woman you've actually cared about since Lori!" Glenn enthuses, causing me to slowly lower my hand and meet his genuine expression. "You're over her, man," he adds with a slightly proud smile.

I feel my expression soften as I nod.

"And that would be great, if it wasn't Adams of all people," I mutter, looking down as I open the file she gave me, trying to distract myself. I wonder if this is one of her personal files or one she grabbed from the file room. I stupidly hope it's the former.

"Oh, but it's great!" Glenn enthuses, making me look up at him in dry disbelief.

There is nothing great about harboring stubborn feelings for a woman who seems determined to undermine me at every turn, who lives just across the hall from me tormenting me, who seemingly can't stand the sight of me, a woman I've allowed to hate me more by the way I treat her, a woman who will never see me in the way I see her.

"She hates me, Glenn," I state flatly, my brows raised, only making Glenn roll his eyes.

"Hate isn't the opposite of love and you're going to Georgia today," Glenn adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a mischievous grin, eliciting a tired sigh from me as I toss the file to the side, deciding to read it later.

"Georgia isn't exactly thrilling, trust me," I mutter, prompting Glenn to groan in frustration as he rises from his seat.

"You need to tell her how you feel!" Glenn encourages me, making my gut twist in horror at the thought.

"No, absolutely not," I refuse adamantly, shaking my head as Glenn rounds my desk, his arms crossed.

"Come on," Glenn sighs, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to persuade me.

I narrow my eyes. "You've had a crush on Maggie since your first day here and haven't said a word about it in over a year. I don't want to hear it," I scoff, shaking my head as Glenn's eyes flare with panic.

"H-How do you-"

"Glenn. Everyone but Maggie knows," I inform him dryly, making Glenn press his lips firmly together. He gulps before nodding just once.

"Exactly," I mutter, shifting in my chair to collect the rest of the files I'll need to take with me to Georgia.

Glenn abruptly leans against the desk beside me, making me pause, slowly looking over at him. "When I tell Maggie, you have to make your move with Cass, deal?" Glenn asks, holding his hand out to mine to shake.

I look at him for a moment, my mouth parted in surprise.

Glenn raises his eyebrows in silent challenge.

I scoff, before taking his hand and shaking it. "Only because that is never going to happen, Rhee."

"Oh, you're so on, Grimes."

_______

Cass's POV - present
_______

"How about a kiss? It's good luck on your honeymoon!" Dave exclaims, his face illuminated by a wide grin, his bloody axe casually slung over his shoulders as he awaits our response.

A nauseating wave of discomfort coils in the pit of my stomach, my gaze widening with alarm.

He can't seriously mean-

"I-Is it?"  Rick's uneasy voice wavers, a forced hollow laugh escaping him as he cocks his head to the side, his discomfort obvious.

His laughter, a sound I've realized I like to hear, now feels like a punch to the gut. As if the idea of giving me a quick peck is ridiculous enough to laugh. Like it would be that horrific.

Embarrassment engulfs me, wishing whatever power above would do me a favor and smite me right here and save Rick from the displeasure of kissing me.

Dave's expression tightens slightly as he appraises Rick. "You don't want to kiss your wife, son?" he asks sharply, making me close my eyes, recoiling inwardly.

Just kill me now.

"Oh, kids these days are so shy! Come on!" Betty encourages us from behind, clearly enthusiastic about seeing the simple kiss they have no idea is torture for us.

Reluctantly, Rick turns to face me, a visible cringe tarnishing his features. My faded eyes meet his piercing blue gaze, my heart sinking at the evident horror in his expression.

The silence in the room turns into a deafening roar in my ears as Rick stares at me blankly, looking as if he would rather make out with one of the toads at the nearby pond than give me a quick kiss.

Is he looking for consent? I give him a subtle look, hoping he's intelligent enough to read it as approval. We both know it's the only way to get the older couple to back off.

Rick's demeanor shifts, a hint of nerves evident as he blinks rapidly, briefly averting his gaze and taking a steadying breath.

Jesus, I can't be that repulsive, can I?

As I meet his gaze once more, a whirlwind of insecurities and doubt churns within me, intensifying with each tentative step he takes closer, his wonderful blue eyes briefly flickering down to my lips.

My heart clenches, fixated on his maddeningly handsome face as he moves closer, inch by agonizing inch.

I part my lips slightly as I meet his gaze, adrenaline buzzing through my veins, blacking out the world around us so nothing else exists. Not the unsettling amount of dolls surrounding nor the well-meaning but meddlesome older couple- just Rick.

It's as if my senses narrow, focusing solely on him, everything else fading into oblivion as he inches closer.

A gasp threatens to escape me at Rick's touch, warm and gentle, grazes my cheek, sending shivers of pleasure dancing across my skin. His hands, dear God, his fucking hands- suddenly, an insatiable urge ignites within me, craving to feel his hands all over my body.

My focus shifts abruptly as Rick draws a preparatory breath before he decisively closes the distance between us, his lips meeting mine.

A soft sound of surprise rumbles up my throat involuntarily, my eyelids fluttering closed.

Damn.

The sensation of Rick's mouth against mine, his faint stubble grazing my chin, sends a jolt of electricity through me. It isn't a passionate kiss by any means, he's just pressing his shut mouth against mine, but dear God, it feels good.

Rick's thumb abruptly moves, the pad of his thumb brushing across my cheekbone gently, a fleeting graze that threatens to unravel every shred of my composure, my brows knitting together instinctively at the sensation.

If not for my stubbornness, I would've melted right then and there and actually kissed him. I would've surrendered to the urge to pull him closer, tangling my fingers in that beautiful hair, moving my lips against his until we're losing ourselves in each other.

But that's not what happens.

Instead, Rick pulls away swiftly, removing both his mouth and his hand, leaving me breathless as air rushes back into my lungs.

My chest rises and falls with every ragged breath, a futile attempt to steady myself against the disorienting whirlwind of emotions swirling in my mind.

I can't bring myself to meet Rick's gaze, my cheeks ablaze with embarrassment, but I catch Betty's murmured disappointment at the "lackluster" kiss as she and her husband make their exit.

"Dinner's at 7!" Betty's reminder echoes in the room, a mundane punctuation to the bewildering encounter we've just shared.

The door closes behind them, leaving Rick and me suspended in a charged silence. The air hangs heavy with unspoken tension, a palpable awkwardness settling between us.

I steal a glance at Rick, finding him equally at a loss for words, his expression a mix of confusion and discomfort.

Rick clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I guess we should-" he starts, making me look up at him quickly, my stomach knotting with anxiety as I meet his gaze.

"R-Right, yeah, dinner," I agree breathlessly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"D'you need the bathroom? I'm just going to take a quick shower first," Rick says, his words so unfamiliarly formal it makes me cringe. Now things are going to change between us. Great.

I shake my head, unable to hold his gaze for more than a fleeting moment, desperate to not picture the last time I was around when he took a shower. The way the towel hung low on his hips, showing off his-

"No, I'm good, go ahead," I manage to get out, and Rick nods, gently brushing past me, his movements carrying him around the bed and toward the bathroom on the far side of the room.

Drawing in a deep breath, I exhale slowly, savoring the brief relief his departure gives me.

"Oh- you should probably change. I am," Rick's voice reaches me from across the room, prompting me to turn and see him grabbing clothes from his suitcase.

My brows furrow in confusion. "Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?" I ask snarkily, glancing down at my outfit. Rick briefly does the same, a small smile playing on his lips.

The lips that just kissed mine.

"There's nothing wrong with your clothes, Adams, but this is the South. They don't trust people like us - suits. It'll be easier to convince them we're a normal couple if we blend in," Rick explains, his tone tightening toward the end as he shuts his suitcase with finality, heading toward the shower.

A normal couple. Good God, this is going to be a long night.

"Just try to look like you can't afford Louis Vuitton," Rick clarifies, prompting a frown to crease my brow as I cross my arms at the insinuation. Rick notices, his eyes crinkling slightly.

"Or like you don't have a penthouse in the Upper East Side," he adds, and I click my tongue, cocking my jaw as I briefly look to the side.

Touché.

"Yes sir," I retort sarcastically, rolling my eyes and looking away, not noticing the tension that flickers across Rick's features at my words or the way his posture stiffens. Without another word, he swiftly retreats into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Once he's out of sight, I let myself sag with relief, exhaling a heavy breath and bringing a hand to my forehead. Holy shit.

I kissed Rick Grimes.

Oh my god.

The shower turns on in the joining bathroom, drawing my attention to the chipping white door. My bottom lip gets caught under my teeth as I stare at it, unable to shake the lingering memory of Rick's touch and the electric pulse of desire that still thrums beneath my skin because of it.

Shaking my head slowly, I attempt to shake the strange whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me as I make my way to my suitcase, unzipping it with determination. You're not affected by that kiss- peck. It meant nothing.

I try to rationalize my thoughts as I rifle through my small suitcase, searching for something that screams 'normal'. Luckily, I find my trusty flared low-rise jeans, which will work. But as I delve deeper into my expensive blouses, dresses, skirts, and silk pajamas, I start to lose hope.

Guess I'm not exactly normal.

But then, I stop, my fingers wrapping around the perfect top. Rick said to aim for as normal as possible, and this shirt certainly is the most normal thing I brought with me.

So I'll give him that.

After changing, I sit on the bed, drumming my fingers along the frilly comforter, my eyes flitting around the room, trying and failing to ignore the beady little eyes of the dolls. Just as I'm beginning to get too creeped out, a sudden vibration to my left grabs my attention.

I go to the oak bedside table where Rick and I put our phones, thinking it could be mine. I did email Michonne earlier, letting her know about the situation. But it's Rick's Blackberry screen that's lit up with new messages from... Glenn?

Before I can stop myself, I read the small words on the screen.

Glenn: 𝚜𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚘𝚜𝚜 :] 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝙼𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛? 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋 𝙼𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛 :)

Glenn: 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 :𝙿

I smile to myself fondly. Good for them.

A strange feeling flutters through my chest. I had no idea he and Rick were so... close.

Glenn: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗! 𝚞𝚜 𝟺 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙸𝚃 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚒 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚍𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝙱𝚗𝙱, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎...

The rest of the message fades away, cut off by the need to unlock Rick's phone to read the rest, leaving me with a pang of guilt for invading his privacy. Quickly averting my gaze, I run an anxious hand through my hair, attempting to sort through the torrent of emotions flooding my mind.

Despite the happiness in my chest for Glenn and Maggie, a deep ache settles in the pit of my stomach at the implications of Glenn's words. What they mean.

That Rick has a work crush. And it's not the woman he just kissed.

_______

Rick's POV
_______

Tugging my black t-shirt over my slightly damp curls, I let out a deep breath, trying to work through the confusing feelings surging through me.

Leaning against the sink, I press both hands firmly against the cool porcelain, hanging my head as I silently reprimand myself.

My damn heart hasn't stopped hammering since my lips pressed against Cass's, the cold shower doing absolutely nothing to help matters. I still can't believe I couldn't stop myself from touching her cheek, something too intimate for the moment considering it should have been a meaningless kiss.

It may have been for her, but it was far from it for me. It was a confirmation of every fantasy I've had about kissing her, from the softness of her lips to the way her intoxicating scent would infiltrate my nose. I just wanted to pull her closer and lose myself in the depths of her mouth.

Surprisingly, I found the strength to pull away, knowing she must have been uncomfortable. The last thing I would ever want to do is genuinely make her uneasy.

Though I take pleasure in teasing her and relishing her various captivating responses, the stiffness in her posture during our kiss was unmistakable. Grimacing, I drag a hand down my face, struggling to compose myself.

"Get over it, man," I mutter to myself, taking one last deep breath before exiting the bathroom. Now dressed in a plain black t-shirt and jeans, I wonder if I should also swap my watch for my more weathered, scratched one.

Glancing up, I find Cass seated on the edge of the bed with her back to me, absorbed in the details of the case, sifting through her folder.

She's a much more dedicated lawyer than I am.

"The bathroom's all yours," I inform her, clearing my throat to dispel the lingering awkwardness as I toss my discarded clothes into my suitcase.

"I'm good, but I could use some food. Ready for dinner?" Cass asks, the sound of her rising from our-the bed reaching my ears. Clearing my throat once more, I stand up, and as I turn to face her, my stomach plummets.

She's wearing a pair of jeans which, while they look fantastic on her, are not what is affecting my heart. It's my shirt I lent her on Saturday that she's wearing that leaves me momentarily speechless.

"Is that my s-shirt?" I ask breathlessly, my brows raised, my heart hammering seeing her in my clothes once again, sending my body into a panicked spiral.

It's probably a stupid man thing, but fuck if it doesn't turn me on to see her in my shirt. Especially with the memory of what she looked like the last time she was wearing it.

"You said 'normal'. And this is the most normal thing I brought with me," Cass shrugs, causing my gaze to flicker up to hers, breath catching in my throat. She packed it?

"I brought it to give back to you. Figured at least while we're here, you can go another day without it," Cass explains, tucking some hair behind her ear,  clearly oblivious to the effect she has on me in that oversized shirt, which somehow manages to be more attractive than any of her skimpy dresses could ever be.

I manage a nod, with a deep inhale to attempt to calm down the gradually heating blood simmering beneath my skin, willing it to stay north. "That's fine, I honestly forgot that you had it." A lie, of course.

Truth is, I haven't been able to get the image of her wearing it out of my mind.

Cass nods in response, her gaze briefly dropping before she swiftly turns and opens the door, clearly eager to move on to the subject of food. It's been hours since I last ate, so I'm right there with her, ready to put this moment behind us.

We traverse the steep rickety staircase before following the signs through the bottom floor to get to the dining room. It's a spacious room with large windows showing the extensive backyard with string lights attached to the towering magnolia trees.

My brows raise in surprise as I realize that the dining room consists of just one long table, with the other ten or so guests scattered along it, engaged in lively conversation over dinner.

"It's the newlyweds! Come on in and sit down!" Betty calls from the head of the table beside her husband, her heavily jeweled hand waving us over.

I exchange a quick look with Cass, and she widens her eyes slightly before heading to the two open seats, brushing past me. Instinctively, I start to reach out to touch her lower back to guide her, but then I think better of it and retract my hand.

She's not yours. Stop pretending like she is.

Though, I am a gentleman first. So I step in front of Cass to pull out her chair for her before she can. She seems surprised for a moment, offering me a small smile before gracefully taking her seat. I push her chair in for her, my gaze lingering on her as she settles into her seat.

I'm still not able to get enough of the sight of her in her t-shirt. It keeps flooding my mind with memories of her in my bed, sprawled out on my sheets, the hem of the shirt revealing just enough of her ass-

I cut off my thoughts with a sharp inhale, momentarily closing my eyes to regain control, ensuring my body doesn't react. It's just tough to get used to. It's been so long since I've felt like this- so completely and utterly enamored by a woman. Even with Lori, it never quite reached that. And then it was tough for a while and I quickly found out why that was.

Pushing through the bitter memories, I offer Betty a quick smile of gratitude before grabbing the plate of roasted potatoes she's offering to me to serve myself.

As the potatoes tumble onto my plate, I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, slight fear flickering through me. What I feel for Cass already feels more than what I felt for Lori. The idea alone is insane considering I've known Cass for a month. A month in which she has very clearly hated me the entire time.

Passing the potatoes to Cass, our fingers brush briefly as she takes the bowl, her eyes meeting mine for a fleeting moment before she looks away. But my gaze remains fixed on her as she busies herself with her plate.

There's an inexplicable pull in my chest as I look at her, an unspoken sense within me that she's the woman I need to be with. It's completely ridiculous but for some reason, I can't shake it.

"So, how did you two meet?" Dave's question tears my attention from the gorgeous woman next to me and redirects it to the older man across the table, thankfully without a blood-covered weapon this time.

I clear my throat, momentarily blanking as I glance to my right to see Cass pausing, her brows raised, those captivating green eyes flicking to mine.

We can't exactly tell them we met at work, because they're not gonna like high-end lawyers like us. Looks like we're going to have to come up with something.

I struggle to suppress a sound of surprise as Cass suddenly grabs my left hand, her grip firm and unexpected, causing my eyes to flick to at hers. She offers me a silent warning through her widened eyes.

"Why don't you tell them, darling?" she suggests with deceptive sweetness, stirring a complex blend of emotions in me. There's an undeniable wave of attraction because her fingers are intertwined with mine while she calls me darling. Yet there's a simmering irritation that she has deftly shifted the responsibility of coming up with our fake story onto me.

A small, self-satisfied smile dances across her pink lips, prompting a subtle narrowing of my eyes in response

Two can play at that game.

Redirecting my attention back to Dave with a polite smile, I decide to have some fun. "Funny story actually," I begin, clearing my throat to fight my growing smirk. "See, Cass is a teacher- my son's teacher," I begin, noticing Cass looking at me curiously in my periphery, relishing in the subtle power shift between us. "We met at the teacher-parent conference while I was with my other wife," I reveal, making Cass choke on her water.

"Oh!" Betty's startled exclamation betrays her surprise, her eyes darting between us.

Maintaining a smug smile, I turn my attention to Cass, offering a reassuring pat on her back as she recovers from choking. Her watering eyes meet mine, seething with a silent fury that only serves to widen my grin.

"Of course, I had no interest in her persistent advances, being the good Catholic man that I am," I start, ignoring Cass's muttered 'Good Catholic my ass' as I turn back to the older couple. "She fell for me right then and there, and would not leave me alone, no matter how much I reminded her that I was married," I grin fondly, reveling in the idea of this alternate life where she did fall for me, a slight pang in my heart knowing that's not the case in this one.

"But darling- wasn't it you who requested more meetings for 'Carl's' sake?" Cass counters with a raised eyebrow, her voice laced with challenge. "Meetings in which he couldn't keep himself off me," Cass whispers to Betty with wide eyes, making the poor woman blush, her eyes flaring with shock.

I chuckle bitterly, shaking my head. "Either way, we found our way to each other after my divorce. Though I had to fight for her to wait until the wedding night, she is one determined woman-" I can't finish my sentence as Cass elbows me in the side, hard, making me choke out a laugh, hanging my head to hide my shit-eating grin.

"Well," Dave interjects awkwardly, shooting a glance at his wife with slightly widened eyes. "At least you made it to the wedding night," he adds with a nervous chuckle, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness.

Clearing my throat, I nod, reining in the laughter threatening to bubble over. Cass takes a deep breath, seemingly composing herself.

"Yeah, even though it was over in about a minute and a half..." Cass trails off with disappointment, catching me off guard as I snap my head in her direction, eyes widening in astonishment. She calmly takes a bite of her spinach, sending me a smug look, raising her brows once.

Her eyes dance with mischief as she chews her food with evident satisfaction, her lips curving into a smirk. Oh, I would love to show her just how wrong she is.

"Anyway! How's the room treating you?" Betty asks quickly, her face beet red as she desperately tries to change the topic, looking at her husband with a sense of panic.

"It's great, thank you again for taking us in," I thank her genuinely, trying to push back the stubborn fluttery feelings at pretending to be a couple, replacing them quickly with the sobering reality.

Betty smiles with relief, nodding as she goes to eat some of her chicken. The same chicken that we quickly find out was the source of blood on Dave's axe, thank god.

As I spare a glance at Cass while she hides her breathtaking grin behind her hand, I wonder if being stranded here might not be as bad as I thought it would be.

_______

Cass's POV
_______

The remainder of the dinner mercifully passes without incident, unfortunately, I'm not able to embarrass Rick again. Afterward, the prospect of escaping to our room for some sleep feels increasingly elusive as Rick and I find ourselves reluctantly forced into post-dinner activities in the living room.

We're sat uncomfortably close on the full couch, nearly touching, so close I can feel the warmth radiating off Rick's body. I clasp my hands tightly in my lap, subtly leaning against the armrest in an attempt to make myself as small as possible, while Rick can't do much to move over with the other guest sitting so close to him. 

Amidst the lively chatter of the group deliberating over which board game to play, I shift uneasily on the couch, inadvertently nudging my knee against Rick's. I take a sharp intake of breath as an unexpected surge of electricity courses through me at the brief contact.

"Watch where you put your knee, Adams," Rick murmurs in a teasing undertone, his gaze fixed ahead as the room buzzes with conversation. Glancing sideways, I catch sight of his profile, his features illuminated by the ambient light, momentarily captivating me.

"Oh? And what are you going to do about it, Grimes?" I counter smoothly, raising a challenging eyebrow, unable to resist the urge to lean ever so slightly towards him. My pulse quickens at our growing proximity, his familiar cologne mingling with the subtle scent of pine and soap that always seems to surround him infiltrating my nose.

Rick glances briefly to the side, our eyes meeting momentarily, his expression unreadable. My heart pounds in my chest as I maintain steady eye contact, my raised eyebrow a silent dare.

He just gazes back at me, as if trying to tell me something. Unable to figure out the depth of meaning behind his eyes, my brows twitch together slightly in confusion.

One of the other guests shouts something loudly, making Rick jump ever so slightly, quickly averting his gaze and clearing his throat.

"Rick! How do you feel about charades?" Dave asks Rick, holding up a bowl of what seems to be written prompts, capturing Rick's attention.

"I'm awful at it, but if we have to..." Rick trails off with a nervous chuckle, delving into conversation with the older man as some of the other guests decide to get into groups.

Before disappointment can fully rise within me, Rick's knee bumps mine again.

My heart flutters at the contact, making me steal a quick glance over at him. Rick doesn't look at me, still engaged in conversation, but I can see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Butterflies swirling madly in my chest, I look down, trying to control my breathing. But those butterflies quickly cease their fluttering when I remember that Rick has a crush at work.

We're forced into a group with Dave for charades, suffering through the awkwardness of trying to guess whatever the other guests are trying to covey silently. I don't really pay attention, merely watching them, too exhausted from the day that has felt entirely too long.

As I look at Rick's profile while he cringes slightly at the ridiculous dance the guest is doing, I can't help but rack my mind on who his crush could be.

What type of woman grabs Rick's attention?

It can't be Michonne, as she's a married lesbian and Glenn obviously wouldn't encourage Rick to try to go for her. The woman he was kissing that night at the lounge was very pretty from the looks of it, with blonde hair and a nice smile. But she doesn't work there.

And she definitely isn't Maggie... what other women work with him?

I suddenly realize that Glenn never said his crush was a woman, I had just assumed. I sneak a look back at Rick as he watches Dave struggle to read his cue card with dry amusement. Is he...?

Rick was married to a woman but who's to say he couldn't be attracted to men too? Great. Now I might have to compete with both men and women.

Shaking my head from those ridiculous thoughts as I clearly wouldn't have a chance anyway, I face forward, burying myself into the couch, my arms crossed. Despite my efforts to distance myself, warmth radiates from the point where Rick's knee is still touching mine. I look at the connection for a moment, feeling a pang in my chest.

Rick turns to me, his voice soft with concern, despite the loud room. "You okay?" he asks quietly, catching me off guard with the tenderness in his tone.

Hopefully, my stream of self-deprecating thoughts wasn't that obvious.

"Other than drowning in second-hand embarrassment? Just peachy," I reply with a wry grin, the corners of Rick's lips twitching slightly in response, a subtle chuckle escaping him as he lowers his gaze.

I can't help but admire him for a moment, watching the way his features move and crease with his laughter. He's so handsome. I feel a broad smile of my own pull across my face, finding joy in just watching him.

Before I can think about the man in front of me for another second, the sudden loud click of a camera accompanied by a blinding flash makes me jump, my head whirling to the right to see Betty lowering her phone as she beams at us.

Instantly, panic surges through me like an electric shock, sending my senses reeling.

"Did you just take a photo of us?" I blurt out, my voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and fear, my eyes widening.

Betty's smile falters for a moment, replaced by a nervous nod. "Well yeah, we have an online blog and you two are just so cute laughing there together-" she begins, her tone earnest as she attempts to justify her actions.

"Delete it," I interrupt her abruptly, my tone commanding but tinged with an undercurrent of panic. My heart hammers against my ribcage, threatening to burst through the confines of my chest as I wait for her to do as I ask.

Confusion clouds Betty's expression, her brows knitting together in puzzlement. "Honey, you look beautiful, don't worry!" she attempts to reassure me with a smile, reaching out to my shoulder. I recoil from her touch instinctively, the contact only serving to exacerbate the rising tide of panic coursing through my veins.

"It's not a vanity thing. Delete it, now," I insist with an edge to my voice, my tone leaving no room for argument as I push myself off the couch, my body trembling with the intensity of my emotions.

"Adams-" Rick starts, his face crumpled with confusion and concern, but I can only look at him for a second before the confusion on his face becomes unbearable.

"There's no reason to be upset hon, it's just for our BnB website!" Betty enthuses, her tone attempting to soothe me but only adding to the cacophony of voices swirling around me. The attention of the others in the room now fixated on us, their curious gazes only exacerbating the turmoil within me.

He can't find me. I can't let him find me.

"For fuck's sake! Just delete it!" I exclaim shrilly, the desperation evident in my voice as my chest heaves with the weight of my panic, tears threatening to spill from my eyes as I blink them back, my focus solely on the phone in Betty's hand.

Before I know it, I feel Rick's presence beside me, his hand gently resting on my shoulder.

In one swift move, I push him off me, swallowing back the horrific sensations consuming me, shaking my head in a futile attempt to dispel the overwhelming chaos inside me.

I can't do it. I hate that he's seeing me like this- that his concern might pierce through the tough walls I've meticulously built around my heart.

"Don't fucking touch me, Grimes," I snap harshly, my panic morphing into a gnarled monster, turning me into a beast of heaving anger. Rage surges through me, fierce and unrelenting, as all the fear and insecurity I'd been suppressing bursts to the surface.

Rick blinks in shock, his brows furrowing in confusion as he slightly flinches backward at my outburst. This is the first time he's seen me like this, and I can't blame him for being put off by the sight.

"Why are you calling each other different names?" Betty's confused question slices through the tension, igniting a fresh wave of fury within me.

I whirl on her, my eyes wide, seething with frustration. "Because we're not a damn couple, Betty jesus christ!" I explode, the words tumbling from my lips in a torrent of pent-up anger and blinding panic.

"We're coworkers! Coworkers who don't even like each other that you forced to kiss and join your weird game night. I'm trying to just get through this so I can get out of your creepy Bed and Breakfast and you have to go and take a photo of me without my consent. Do you even realize that's illegal?" I interrogate her through my rambling words, my voice dripping with accusation as I level a fierce gaze at the woman, whose jaw drops in disbelief, outrage flaring through her features.

"Adams, seriously-" Rick begins, his hands held out in a calming gesture, his eyes wide with concern as he looked between Betty and me, clearly confused by the sudden eruption of tension.

"Don't 'Adams' me," I snap furiously, feeling like the calm yellow walls are closing in around me, restricting my breathing.

"You're a couple of liars. And using the Lord's name in vain? Disgusting," Betty mutters with disappointment, shaking her head and crossing her arms in a gesture of indignation.

"That's what you care about?" I demand incredulously, my disbelief mounting as I shift my focus onto her. "All I'm asking is for you to delete the photo of me, and all you give a shit about is me saying Jesus?" I exclaim wildly, my voice rising with frustration as I burn into the stubborn woman with my gaze, her raised eyebrow and dismissive shake of the head only serving to stoke the flames of my anger.

A sharp exhale of outrage escapes me as I press my hand to my forehead, the weight of embarrassment crashing over me like a tidal wave. I glance around the room, my cheeks burning as I meet the shocked gazes of the other guests watching us. The mingling sensations of embarrassment, fear, and anger twist in my gut, setting my skin ablaze with a feverish heat.

He's winning.

He's always going to win.

He's always going to make me look fucking crazy.

I meet Rick's gaze to see his wide blue eyes searching my face, his mouth parted in surprise. My stomach wrenches.

And now Rick's seen me like this. Great.

"I'm going to bed," I mutter quietly, shaking my head and going to leave, but Betty's hand shoots out, stopping me in my tracks.

I clench my jaw tightly to stop myself from grabbing her arm and yanking it back until it cracks. Suppressing the impulse, I turn to her, my eyes wide with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

"You two are no longer guests. You can grab your things and leave." Betty declares indifferently, her face and voice devoid of emotion, meeting my gaze with steely resolve.

My jaw drops, sparing a glance at the dark window. "You're making us leave? It's almost 10 pm and you said yourself that there's nowhere for us to go!" I argue, my eyes wide with incredulity as I struggle to understand how this woman calls herself a Christian.

"Ma'am, there must be something we can-" Rick starts, suddenly beside me again, but Betty sends him a look that quiets him.

"We gave you refuge and offered you a shared bedroom because you told us you were married. We have the right to refuse service if we see fit," Betty explains coldly, and I scoff under my breath, shaking my head.

There's no fucking way.

"There's a motel down the road. I can take y'all," Dave says from behind us, his voice carrying a hint of warmth that contrasts his wife's chilly demeanor.

Closing my eyes briefly, I take a moment to collect myself, pinching the bridge of my nose as I attempt to control my breathing amidst the situation.

"That would be great, thank you," Rick expresses his gratitude calmly, his tone sincere as I struggle to compose myself.

"Come on," Rick murmurs softly near my ear, his hand resting gently on my upper back, and this time, I don't resist. With a sense of resigned acceptance, I allow him to guide me back to our room, my thoughts swirling with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

I can't believe I let Him get to me again. Let myself continue to live in such visceral fear.

I hate Him so fucking much.

Rick grabs both of our bags for us, silently following Dave out into the cool night to his orange truck. Rick takes the middle seat of the old vehicle, letting me curl against the door, struggling to stop my anger from rising again as I look through the window to see Betty in the living room, talking animatedly with the group of guests.

"I'm sorry about that," Rick murmurs to Dave, breaking the silence as the older man drives us down the bumpy gravel road.

"You don't need to apologize on my behalf, Grimes," I mutter bitterly, sending him a look. Rick turns to me with mild exasperation, his head tilted to the side.

Dave's sudden chuckle takes me by surprise. "I can see why y'all didn't want to kiss before," the older man comments, sending a flare of embarrassment through me at the memory.

I sigh deeply, running a hand over my face. Get me out of this nightmare.

"You don't seem offended by the truth," Rick comments, simply ignoring the other conversation topic. No surprise, considering it was that horrific for him to endure.

Opting to steer clear of further conversation, I find solace in the ever-changing landscape outside. The passing greenery, shrouded in the soft glow of the moonlight, offers a temporary escape from the conversation.

"Betty is... strong in her convictions. And that's one of the things I love about her. But despite what happened, I can tell y'all are good people. And don't worry, the motel ain't that bad," Dave comments, making me let out a steady exhale.

"And anythin' beats the doll room," Dave adds with a snort, making a stubborn smile twitch at the corner of my lips as Rick chuckles softly.

We finally reach the motel, looking like just about any other small run-down motel I've seen in my life. A scattering of illuminated rooms, a desolate parking lot, and a flickering vacancy sign all paint the picture of warm Southern hospitality. With another round of thanks, we say bye to Dave, retrieving our suitcases from the bed of the truck. As he makes a U-turn and heads back toward the bed and breakfast, we turn our attention to the task at hand.

We're about to head into the small glass lobby when my phone begins to ring, and with a sigh, I grab it, my eyes widening when I see it's Michonne.

Showing the screen to Rick, his brows arch in surprise. "Go ahead, I'll handle the rooms," he offers, granting me a moment of peace. Relief washes over me at the prospect of being alone in my own room, a chance to gather my thoughts.

Accepting the call as Rick walks into the lobby with a ding of a bell, I raise my phone to my ear. Crossing my arms against the slight chill of the night air, I wait as the call connects, wondering whether I'm going to be speaking to boss Michonne or friend Michonne.

"Hey," I greet, my voice soft in the stillness, uncertainty lingering.

"Cass! Thank fuck you answered," Michonne replies, her voice sounding slightly scratchy, reminding me that Glenn said he and Maggie went to grab her cold medicine.

Friend Michonne it is.

"Yeah, I'm here, is everything okay?" I ask, concern knitting my brows as I begin to pace along the front of the motel, the distant chorus of cicadas providing a backdrop to our conversation.

"You haven't been answering your phone, Soph and I were worried," Michonne explains, evoking a sigh from me, a fond smile tugging at the corners of my lips that they care.

Turning, I glance through the glass doors of the lobby to see Rick talking to an older redneck-looking man behind the counter. "Sorry about that. Practically everything that could go wrong has gone wrong," I grumble, annoyance fluttering through me at the memory of my agitating conversation with Betty. And the fact that she never deleted the photo.

I try to ignore the unpleasant fear that twists through me at the thought.

A hushed muttering on the other end catches me off guard before I'm distracted as Michonne speaks again. "You're still with Rick?" Michonne asks, her question furrowing my brow with confusion.

"Yeah, we just had to switch to a motel. He's grabbing our rooms right now," I explain, seizing the opportunity to steal a glance in his direction. He appears to be deep in conversation, looking down with a subtle shake of his head before he resumes talking with the man behind the desk.

If there aren't rooms I'm going to kill myself.

"Oh, okay," Michonne responds, and I hear that muttering again, then, "No, I'm not asking her that!"

Suspicion creeps into my expression, narrowing my eyes. "Is Soph there?" I inquire knowingly, a wry smirk playing on my lips.

"...Hey, Cass!" Sophie's cheerful voice interrupts, prompting an eye roll from me. "So... how's Rick?" she teases, her smugness evident even through the phone, provoking a frustrated huff from me.

"He's fine," I reply tersely, briefly lifting my gaze to the star-strewn sky, wishing I could see this many stars all the time.

"Right," Soph sings teasingly, making me stop at the sound of muffled giggles.

"What?" I question suspiciously.

"Nothing, it's just nice to hear you confirm that you think Rick is fine," Michonne teases with a snort, her amusement palpable through the phone. Sophie's ensuing laughter only serves to amplify my irritation.

"You two are insufferable," I mutter stubbornly, a smile battling against my exasperation as their laughter reverberates through the phone, heating my cheeks with embarrassment.

Before I can say something else, the bell above the lobby door dings again, drawing my attention over my shoulder to see Rick leaving the lobby while holding up the little card envelopes for me to see.

"Alright, he's got the keys, I gotta go," I breathe, ignoring their cries of protest and swiftly hanging up, hoping the cool night air might alleviate the furious blush staining my cheeks.

"Bad news, they only had one room clean for guests," Rick sighs as he approaches, halting me in my tracks. My brows shoot up in disbelief.

"You've got to be kidding," I blurt out before I can stop myself, earning a heavy sigh from Rick as he shakes his head in resignation. I cast a glance at the nearly deserted parking lot, feeling as though fate has conspired against me yet again.

"Wish I were kidding. But luckily, we got two beds this time," Rick remarks, offering a small semblance of relief. He hands me the purple envelope containing the keycard, and I gratefully accept it, following him as he leads me to the far side of the motel.

After a few attempts, Rick manages to unlock the stubborn door, getting it open with a forceful shove. As he flicks on the lights, I can't help but cringe at the sight of the dilapidated motel room before us.

The room has stained dark green carpets and peeling ugly wallpaper, but at least it has two beds and, thankfully, no dolls. I drop my bag onto the bed farthest from the door, wrinkling my nose at the stale air that permeates the room.

Before I have to say a word, Rick cracks open the window, letting in some fresh air as he drops his bag down on the other bed.

Surveying our place for the night, I can't help but scrutinize every detail. From the worn carpet to the outdated desk and the ancient TV, it's clear that this room had seen better days. I found myself circling back to the bed, my gaze lingering on the faded bedspread.

Caught up in my inspection, I barely notice Rick's approach until his voice breaks through my concentration as I squat down to look at the bottom of the bed, his tone laced with amusement.

"What are you doing?" Rick asks, his voice betraying a hint of laughter.

"Looking for any serial killers. Or bedbugs," I comment, earning a slightly breathless laugh from Rick that tightens my chest. The tension of our situation seems to momentarily dissipate in the wake of our joking, this motel suddenly seeing a lot better than I thought it would be.

"And I'm here looking for them, all thanks to Betty," I remark bitterly, the mere mention of her name causing a surge of irritation to rise within me. I grit my teeth momentarily at the memory of her, the sting of betrayal still fresh in my mind.

"Not just Betty, though, right?" Rick asks calmly, his words pulling me from my thoughts. I turn to him, my brows knitted in confusion.

"Are you serious?" I question, crossing my arms over my chest, defensive as a pang of hurt goes through me that he's not on my side.

Rick sighs, his gaze meeting mine as he sits on the edge of his bed, the mattress protesting with a soft squeak. "I don't understand. It was just a photo," he murmurs, his tone tinged with confusion as he studies my expression.

I can't help but scoff, rolling my eyes as I stalk toward the bathroom, needing a moment to compose myself.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I snap with aggravation as I quickly check the faded bathroom, its outdated yellow fixtures look slightly stained but beyond that, no killers or bugs.

"Then tell me," Rick pleads, stopping me in my tracks and making me turn in the bathroom doorway. I find him standing now in the middle of the room, his eyes searching mine for answers.

Walking out of the bathroom, I feel the heat of my anger pulsating within me as I storm up to him, my fists clenched at my sides. "It's none of your damn business, Grimes," I seethe, my words laced with venom.

Rick's response is immediate, his eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching in frustration. "We're stuck together for the foreseeable future, and I feel like I should know whatever the hell made us get kicked out of our last place. Just so I can be prepared in case we get kicked out of here and have to spend the night in the fucking woods," he argues, each word dripping with mounting irritation, further stoking the flames of my anger.

His persistence grates on my nerves, enraging me."God! You are the most infuriating and agitating man I have ever had the displeasure of working with. You make me want to rip out my fucking hair," I growl, my anger thrashing within me and clenching my fists, begging me to lose control as Rick steps closer, his brows drawn together in defiance.

"And what do you think you do to me?" Rick demands wildly as he steps closer, his chest heaving with pent-up frustration, a singular curl falling from his otherwise impeccable hair.

"I know what I do to you," I retort quickly, matching his approach with my own, the space between us crackling with tension. I swear I see a brief panic flash behind Rick's eyes at my words.

"I made you realize that you're not getting Hershel's job. Because I'm better than you, and that scares the shit out of you," I spit cruelly, watching as Rick's expression flicker with surprise before he averts his gaze in disbelief, his jaw clenching.

Then he scoffs, cocking his jaw in defiance as he meets my gaze again with a fierce determination that sends a chill down my spine. Suddenly, both he and his hand move toward me, an unexpected movement that sends blinding fear coursing through my veins.

I flinch harshly, my body instinctively recoiling as I take a staggering step back, the familiar sensation of ice-cold terror flooding my senses. Blinking rapidly, my chest heaves with the weight of suppressed memories, the echoes of past trauma haunting my every thought, reminding me of Him.

After a second of heavily breathing and clenching my eyes to try to push back the memories, I summon enough courage to look up. With my skin tingling with adrenaline, I hesitantly meet Rick's gaze to see him staring at me with wide eyes, his mouth parted with horror.

And there it is, unmistakable in the depths of his widened eyes.

He knows.

Fuck my life.