A/N: hi lovelies, I'm so sorry this took so long!! Had some major writer's block with my current job and I've been trying to work out the plot to make sure every chapter is interesting. I love you all so much and I'm sorry this took me forever but I promise I have things in the works! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, ily!!

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Cass's POV
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I gasp sharply, my heart slamming against my ribcage as waves of pleasure crash over me, relentless and intoxicating. My fingers clutch at his warm back, the heat of his skin radiating beneath my fingertips as my nails dig into his searing flesh, desperate to anchor myself in this haze of bliss.

Rick groans deeply against my neck, the sound rumbling through him and sending shivers down my spine, each thrust becoming more urgent, more intense. He hits a deeper spot inside me, drawing a raw moan of ecstasy from my throat, my body arching instinctively to meet him.

"Jesus Christ... you feel so good..." I moan breathlessly, my head thrown back against the pillows, my breaths coming in sharp gasps as pleasure floods my senses. My body trembles, every nerve ending alight with sensation, the world outside fading into nothingness.

Rick lifts his head, panting heavily as he gazes down at me, his expression twisted in pleasure. Our eyes lock, and I can feel the intensity of his desire mirrored in my own. I blink up at him, my hand moving from the taut muscles of his back to his tousled hair, threading my fingers through his curls, feeling the softness against my palm.

His eyes flutter closed as he groans, a sound that sends a thrill through me, and I can't help but smile in adoration as I tug gently on his curls. Suddenly, he leans in, capturing my lips with his in a passionate kiss, the fervor of his mouth igniting a fire within me.

I kiss Rick back eagerly, our mouths moving together with an urgency that feels almost primal as our bodies connect in the most intimate way. I melt beneath the weight of his body, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch and the heat radiating between us.

When Rick finally pulls away from the kiss, his forehead rests against mine, our breaths mingling in the space between us.

"I love you," he gasps, his wonderful blue eyes darting back and forth between mine, a tentative grin pulling at his lips.

I jolt awake with a shuddering gasp, my heart racing as I shoot upright in bed, my hand instinctively flying to my chest. Panting, I blink rapidly at the large windows of my apartment, I'm momentarily blinded by the sunlight streaming in, its rays reflecting off the nearby buildings and casting jagged patterns on the walls.

After a second, as reality washes over me, my dream registers. A suffocating mix of shock and embarrassment wash over me, leaving me breathless.

Panting softly, I stare out at the bustling city beyond my windows for a moment, the honking traffic and distant shouts filling the air. With a defeated sigh, I bury my face in my hands, willing away the remnants of the dream that linger in my mind.

"For fuck's sake," I curse under my breath, my fingers threading through my hairline, cringing at the vividness of the dream my subconscious cruelly created. Since last night, I haven't been able to shake the sound of Rick's voice murmuring "I love you" to someone on the phone—it been echoing painfully in my mind like a broken record stuck on a loop.

Each time I hear it—his familiar, reassuring rumble saying those three words—it tugs painfully at my heart, a stark reminder of the distance between us. He'll never say those words to me, especially now, after everything that's happened between us.

After the cruel things I've said to him.

But, Jesus, I never expected to crave that from him. If someone had told me when I first met Rick that I would one day yearn for him to utter those three simple words to me, I would have laughed in their face, scoffing at the absurdity of it.

I'm a goddamn idiot.

With a weary groan, I push myself out of bed, the weight of regret still heavy on my chest. I pat my dog's back where he's curled up beside me, rousing him gently from his sleep. "Come on, buddy, let's go for a walk," I murmur, my voice thick with sleep as I shuffle to change quickly. A walk in the morning air sounds like just the thing we both need right now, a way to shake off the remnants of my troubling dream.

An hour later, I return to the building from the park, the invigorating chill of the morning air still lingering on my skin. Daryl trots tiredly beside me, no longer pulling on his leash after our longer-than-usual walk. As we round the corner to the elevators, I spot one already closing and instinctively rush forward. I manage to catch it just in time, darting my hand between the doors, which obligingly beep and reopen.

Inside stands a stunning woman with a cascade of curly brown hair and striking blue-green eyes, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement as Daryl and I step inside. I pant slightly, grateful for the chance to share the space with the woman in the leather jacket.

"Thank you," I manage to say, offering her a polite smile, while Daryl eyes her with curious interest, his tail wagging eagerly. Anticipating my excitable dog, I quickly pull back his leash, not wanting a repeat of that mortifying incident with Rick at the park.

"No problem, I can't seem to figure this damn thing out anyway," the woman chuckles good-naturedly, her finger hovering near the penthouse level button, which lights up as she presses it before going dark again. Beside her sits a suitcase, its polished surface gleaming under the elevator lights, the sight sending a sinking feeling into the pit of my stomach.

So, the person Rick was declaring his love to on the phone was a woman. And not just any woman—a stunning one at that.

Goddamnit.

"It would help if you had a key," I explain with an easy smile, leaning forward to swipe my keycard against the sensor and pressing the button, setting the elevator in motion.

The woman chuckles softly, shaking her head, a playful glint in her eye as she adjusts her mass of curls. "Obviously," she mutters self-depricatingly to herself, glancing down at Daryl, who's staring at her with a goofy, happy pant. "Are you going to press your floor?" she asks me, curiosity sparking in her bright eyes.

"We're actually going to the same one," I reply, my smile now feeling a bit strained. I try not to let myself be intimidated by the model standing beside me, obviously heading up to visit my hot neighbor, who I fear I may be developing concerningly real feelings for.

The woman blinks at me, her expression shifting from surprise to delight. "Really? Huh, well I'm Louise," she introduces herself with a wide, inviting smile, extending her hand toward me. Her silver rings catch the light, glinting with each movement, drawing my gaze.

"Cass, nice to meet you," I respond, my voice slightly hoarse from nerves. I clear my throat before stepping forward to shake her hand. As our hands meet, Daryl seizes the opportunity, his excitement bubbling over as he jumps up on her, tail wagging with unrestrained enthusiasm.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," I groan in defeat, hastily trying to pull Daryl back, but Louise's laughter rings out effortlessly, her demeanor calm and inviting as she pets Daryl's head, clearly unbothered by my dog's exuberance.

Daryl pants excitedly, basking in the attention as Louise scratches his scraggly head, her fingers weaving through his fur with a practiced ease. "It's alright! What's their name?" she asks, her voice warm and unconcerned, accompanied by a playful grin directed at my overly friendly dog.

"Daryl," I say, feeling slightly relieved that she's taking it all in stride. I know some people might easily file a complaint if my dog did anything resembling an attack, even if it's just a clumsy greeting.

Louise looks up at me, her mouth parted with surprise as I say my dog's name, prompting a soft sigh to escape me.

"Yeah, I know it's an odd name. It was just what he was named at the shelter," I admit with a huff of laughter, glancing at the monitor to see if we're almost to our floor, the numbers lighting up one by one.

"No, it's just... I knew a Daryl once," Louise murmurs thoughtfully, her gaze drifting back to my dog. A soft smile graces her lips as she looks down at him, her expression tinged with nostalgia.

"So, you must live across the hall from Rick then?" Louise asks, her tone changing to be more conversational as she glances up at me. "Have you met him?"

I swallow thickly, my throat suddenly dry, and I force a casual smile, hoping to mask the flurry of emotions swirling inside me. Yeah. You could say that.

"Uh, yeah. We work together, actually," I reply, trying not to let my cheeks burn under her scrutiny, praying for the elevator to move a little quicker.

Louise tilts her head, studying me for a moment with an expression that feels like she's peeling back layers. "I don't think he's ever mentioned a Cass to me before," she murmurs, and my heart quickens with slight panic. After everything that happened in Georgia... Oh God, is she his girlfriend? Or just another casual hookup? Someone who would care?

Fuckfuckfuck.

"Well, we usually uh—call each other by our last names. Grimes and Adams," I explain quietly, clearing my throat and avoiding her gaze as Daryl sits down with a huff, watching us both intently, his head cocked to the side as if he senses my tension.

Louise scoffs softly in what seems to be disbelief, her eyes widening with amusement. "You're Adams?" she asks incredulously, a grin spreading across her face, catching me off guard.

I blink at her for a moment, momentarily flustered, then nod, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear nervously, my heart racing. I can't shake the feeling that I'm caught in a web of implications, and I'm still desperate for this damn elevator to hurry the hell up.

"The way he described you... I did not expect you to be this... hot," Louise remarks with a mischievous grin, her playful comment sending a chill down my spine as I meet her smirk head-on. "I pictured some hag with the way he talked about you."

My eyebrows raise slightly, and I exhale a bitter huff, trying to maintain composure. "I'm not surprised that's how he talks about me," I reply dryly, a faint ache tugging at my chest at the reality of our strained relationship.

The weight of her words lingers in the air, wrapping around me like a fog, and I can't help but wonder what kind of image Rick has painted of me to others. Or to himself. The thought gnaws at my insides, sharp and insistent, and I shift uncomfortably, wishing fervently for the elevator doors to slide open and grant me a reprieve from this uncomfortable conversation.

Louise seems to study me for a minute, her expression a mix of curiosity and something else I can't quite place, but before she can say another word, the elevator finally reaches our floor with a cheerful ding. She nudges her head toward the opening doors, a silent invitation for me to leave first. I do, muttering a lame 'thank-you' under my breath, practically dragging Daryl with me as I step into the hallway.

As Louise turns towards Rick's apartment, she pauses and looks back at me over her shoulder. "It was nice meeting you, Cass. And you too, Daryl," she adds with a wink at my dog, who wags his tail harder at her, still panting from his walk.

"You too," I respond, managing a genuine smile despite the unease creeping into my chest, a mix of jealousy and curiosity brewing just beneath the surface.

As she walks away, a pang of jealousy and curiosity lingers within me. Who is she to Rick? And why is he telling her that he loves her bothering me so much?

Pushing those thoughts aside, I head to my apartment, Daryl walking happily beside me, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil swirling inside me. I quickly close the door behind us with a heavy sigh, leaning against it for a moment, trying to collect myself. Bending down, I undo Daryl's leash and watch as he trots eagerly to his water bowl in the kitchen, his tail wagging with unfiltered joy.

As I hang his leash up by the door, muffled voices from Rick's apartment filter through the walls, feeding the curiosity that continues to gnaw at me. I pause, my heart racing, caught between wanting to eavesdrop and knowing I shouldn't.

Carefully, I lean against my front door, heart pounding in my chest, and peer through the tiny peephole. To my shock, I see Rick's apartment door slightly ajar. Inside, I catch a glimpse of him in navy pajama pants and a fitted white t-shirt, his broad shoulders filling the space as he hugs Louise tightly, a wide smile brightening his face. My heart stutters at the sight of their closeness, a pang of longing mixed with unjust jealousy twisting in my gut.

Rick playfully swats Louise's hand away from her suitcase, insisting he takes it for her, sending an ache through me as I remember how he took my bags in Georgia. She rolls her eyes at him, but there's a warmth in her smile that only deepens the knot in my chest.

Rick glances briefly towards my door, and my heart skips a beat before he turns back and disappears into his apartment.

I cringe at myself, pulling back from the peephole as shame washes over me. Pressing my forehead against the cool wood of the door, I let out a heavy sigh, a wave of frustration and despair crashing over me.

I'm fucked.

_______
Rick's POV
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"Come on, one more, Grandpa," Louise urges me with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling as she watches me struggle. I pant heavily, wincing as I push up the weight bar. My muscles burn with every ounce of effort, and I feel her hands lightly touch the underside of the bar, ready to catch it if I falter.

"Don't call me that," I huff, shaking my head in mock exasperation as I finally slam the bar back onto its rest with a metallic clang.

My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I sit up, feeling the familiar tingle of exertion coursing through my body. Grabbing my water bottle, I cringe at the sensation of my sweat-soaked shirt clinging to my chest, a reminder of my limits as the heat radiates from my lungs.

Louise leans against the pillar behind her, arms crossed, watching me with an amused grin. I take a long drink, the cold water a welcome relief, cooling my overheated body and washing away some of the exhaustion.

"So... I met Adams. Hot," Louise declares suddenly.

I choke on my water, nearly spraying all the water in my mouth. A few nearby gym-goers glance over, their curiosity momentarily piqued before they return to their routines, leaving me with burning cheeks and a pounding heart echoing in my ears.

Swallowing quickly and coughing to clear my throat, I turn to Louise, my eyes wide with shock and my stomach twisting at the smug smirk playing on her lips.

"Jesus Christ, Lou," I mutter, wiping the water from my chin, my cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red as embarrassment creeps in, my throat raw from my coughing.

"What? I'm just making conversation," she murmurs innocently, shrugging her shoulders as if she hadn't just thrown a verbal grenade that nearly killed me. Her eyes gleam with mischief, and I send her a withering glare. "I just don't know why you never mentioned it," she comments with a smug tilt of her head.

I roll my eyes, my jaw clenching tightly as I try to compose myself. The last time I talked to Louise about Cass was a few weeks after she started—before everything fell apart in Georgia. Back when I was still in denial about my growing attraction to her, too focused on my damn job to admit it.

"Why would I mention her looks? They're... not important," I mutter, shaking my head and clearing my throat as I get off the bench, grabbing a towel to wipe down the bench after me.

Louise is silent and I glance over to see her grinning at me like an idiot, my stomach flipping in response as I send her a glare.

"Don't—"

"—you like her." Louise grins smugly, her words hitting me like a punch to the gut. I inhale sharply, clenching my jaw as I brush past my annoying sister, letting her adjust the weights on the bench.

"Don't be ridiculous. We're fighting for the same job. She's my direct competitor. And she's infuriating," I mutter under my breath, my lies tight and clipped as I round the bench to be Louise's spotter this time. My heart races, caught between irritation and an undeniable truth I refuse to acknowledge.

"And she also has that pretty copper hair, those green eyes, that warm smile, nice body..." Louise trails off with a mischievous grin as she lays down on the bench, adjusting her position to start her workout. Each word drips with teasing, and my stomach clenches at her description, a wave of heat washing over me as an unwelcome flush spreads across my cheeks.

I can't help but get the mental picture of how she looked under me that night in Georgia, her flushed cheeks, her features twisted with pleasure and desire. Even if it was because of the drugs, my heart burns knowing she enjoyed it. Enjoyed my touch. At least... until she regretted it right after.

"Moving on from your ex already?" I ask shortly, inhaling a deep breath, annoyance flitting through me at the idea of my bisexual sister looking at Cass like that.

Louise grins as she takes the weight bar off the stands, her muscles flexing as she gets used to the weight. Her eyes twinkle mischievously. "Why? Have a problem with that?" she asks with raised brows, her voice slightly strained as she starts her reps, pushing up the bar.

I roll my eyes with irritation, my hands staying underneath the bar for her just in case, despite the urge to let her knock her teeth out for even considering looking at Cass the way I do. "Maybe Cass doesn't want to be your distraction. And she might not be into women," I mutter, hoping my words will put an end to this ridiculous conversation.

Louise chuckles, lowering the bar to her chest and pushing it back up with a controlled exhale. "Jealous, are we? Maybe she just needs the right woman to change her mind." Her gaze remains locked on mine, a teasing challenge reflected in her expression.

I scowl, my irritation bubbling to the surface. "Or maybe she doesn't need another complication in her life," I retort, my tone sharper than intended. "Especially not from someone who's looking for a rebound." I mutter, my protective instincts flaring. I can't help but feel a surge of anger at the thought of anyone complicating Cass's life further.

Louise, however, seems unfazed by my outburst. She flashes me a cocky grin, her breathing slightly labored from her workout, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple. "You forget how hot I am, big brother," she preens, her voice dripping with playful arrogance. The confidence radiating from her makes me grimace with disgust and annoyance at the thought of anyone, let alone Cass, looking at my sister that way.

"Is she gonna be at that charity thing tonight?" Louise pants, looking up at me with curious eyes. I exhale slowly, feeling a wave of frustration.

It's one of the big charity galas thrown by the New York Philanthropy Society, where Greene and Hawthorn secured tickets for all the partners. The gala that Louise is my plus-one for tonight.

"I don't know. She has a ticket from the firm, but I'm not sure if she'll show up," I mutter, my gaze fixed on Louise's arms, watching for any sign of her struggling with the weights, trying to push away thoughts of seeing Cass tonight.

"Well... you said... you had to go," Louise murmurs through her panting as she continues to work out.

I nod, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, it looks good for the firm. And if I want that promotion, the networking is compulsory." I reply, watching as Louise sends me a knowing look.

"So... she'll be there if she has a brain," Louise grins, making me roll my eyes, a mix of emotions fluttering through me. The thought of seeing Cass at the gala makes my heart race with anticipation and anxiety.

Louise finishes her set, her breaths coming in steady, determined puffs as she carefully sets the bar back on the stands. She sits up, wiping sweat from her forehead with a satisfied grin. "Well, I hope she has a brain then," she says, rising from the bench and stretching her arms overhead, muscles taut and glistening with effort.

My stomach drops at the idea of Louise seriously considering going after Cass. First Shane and now my sister... great.

Sighing, I hand her the towel to wipe off the bench. "You're the worst."

Louise laughs, stretching her arms after she wipes down the bench, tossing it in the nearby bin for them. The tension in my shoulders only grows seeing the dangerously mischievous look in her eyes.

"You love me," Louise beams, unfazed by my irritation, and I can't help but roll my eyes again, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"I only love you because you're my sister. I should've let Mom and Dad leave you at the river they found you in," I retort childishly, a smile creeping onto my face despite my irritation as Louise bursts into laughter, throwing her head back in genuine amusement.

She grabs my shoulder, still chuckling, her laughter warm and inviting, but it does little to soften my reluctant glare. "Game's on, big brother," she teases, her tone laced with a playful challenge, and I can't help but feel a mixture of dread and anticipation for the evening ahead.

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By the time Louise and I arrive at the charity event, I feel like I might throw up. I hold the door of our car open for Louise, my nerves tightening my stomach into knots. My smug sister steps out in her low-cut black dress, already catching the attention of a few passing men who I send death glares in return.

"Relax, Rick," Louise teases, her voice light and airy as she links her arm with mine, clearly unfazed by the attention she's drawing. "You're going to scare away all my admirers."

"Good," I mutter with annoyance, adjusting the bow tie of my all-black tux with an impatience I can't quite hide. The grand ballroom of the historic hotel in the heart of New York City looms ahead, a beacon of elegance and sophistication that makes my stomach twist even tighter. I take a moment to steady my breathing, but the sense of dread lingers.

We ascend to the large room where the event is being held, on the top floor. The ballroom is huge, its historic charm evident in the original stone walls and stained glass windows. The other side, leading to the rooftop bar area, blends sleek modernity with the classic setting.

Thankfully, the weather has cleared after the storm that swept through a couple of days ago, and the clear skies now promise a perfect evening. The main room buzzes with the chatter of the insanely important and wealthy partygoers, their laughter and clinking glasses melding into a symphony of socialization. The rooftop deck, adorned with twinkling lights, offers stunning views of the city skyline and I already can't wait to hide out there.

"Damn, fancy life you got here, Grimes," Louise tells me under her breath as I guide her in, her arm still looped in mine, making me huff out a dry laugh.

"Don't call me that, Lou. And it's not always like this, trust me," I sigh, putting on a smile at the few people I recognize as I lead us to the open bar. My heart races, my eyes skimming the room to see if I can spot a familiar head of copper hair. To my relief or disappointment, I'm not sure which, I don't.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot only your girlfriend can call you that," Louise quips, her voice teasingly sweet, and I have to fight the urge to shove her over or kick her in the back of her knees like I used to when we were kids.

"Shut your trap," I mutter, not being able to stop the amused grin tugging at my lips as we reach the bar. Louise smirks mischievously, leaning forward on the nice bar to order her usual gin and tonic from the bartender.

The bartender quickly rearranges his leering expression at Louise when he sees my glare, turning his attention to making our drinks. I sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose, knowing this is going to be one hell of a long night.

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Cass's POV
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Leaning against the glass railing of the rooftop patio, I close my eyes, savoring the cool evening breeze as it gently ruffles my hair. The lively music and chatter from the event fade into the background, providing a brief respite from the social whirlpool behind me. I'm careful not to let my cream silk gown press against the railing, avoiding any potential stains. In this small moment of peace, I allow myself to breathe.

"Cassandra, how nice to see you again," a familiar male voice rumbles from behind me, making me jump slightly. I quickly turn, plastering on a professional smile to mask my surprise.

"Mr. Greene, so good to see you too, sir," I reply, my eyes settling on the distinguished older man with kind eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles, his presence exuding a sense of calm authority.

"Please, with all the work you've been doing for the firm, it's Hershel," he insists with a warm, almost paternal smile. His gentle correction softens my nerves, and I find myself nodding with a bashful smile, looking down for a moment to compose myself.

Just then, a waiter glides by, eagerly offering a tray of elegantly arranged appetizers, but I shake my head, my gaze drifting off as my mind stubbornly fixates on my goddamn work rival and the incredibly beautiful woman he's undoubtedly taken with him tonight. Hershel, however, graciously takes a bite, thanking the lingering waiter with a smile before turning his attention back to me.

"So, I've heard about you and Rick," he mentions, his brows slightly raised as he gives me a knowing look that sends a jolt through my stomach. For a heartbeat, I feel like the ground has fallen out from under me.

I clear my throat, my cheeks traitorously burning as I avert my gaze nervously, quickly glancing back just in time to see Rick across the room with his gorgeous date, laughter lighting up his face. My heart momentarily sinks seeing him and Louise from before, looking drop-dead gorgeous in her dress.

I very quickly focus back on Hershel.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Hershel," I murmur, attempting to maintain an air of feigned innocence, my brows knitting together as I take a sip of my champagne, the bubbles doing little to ease my nerves.

Hershel studies me for a moment, his gaze unwavering as he chews the small bite of food the waiter gave him. "I may be old, Dr. Adams, but I'm not stupid," he chuckles warmly, and I feel a mixture of embarrassment and dread twist in my stomach. "I know you two are competing for my position once I retire," he elaborates, almost making me double over in relief.

That's what he's talking about.

I let out a slight laugh, nodding as I look away at the city skyline surrounding us, a new gust of wind swirling through, tugging at my hair. "Right. Yeah, we may be doing that," I admit sheepishly, my heart still racing from what I thought he was talking about.

"I know everything that goes on in that firm, Cassandra; don't let the greys and the impending retirement fool you," Hershel says, a crinkled smile spreading across his face. His blue eyes twinkle with mischief, and I can't help but mirror his smile, my nerves settling just a bit.

"I would never," I grin back, the warmth of his demeanor comforting me as I feel the tension ease from my shoulders.

I take a sip of my champagne, my attention momentarily drifting to the intricate stained glass of the main ballroom. Each piece tells a story, the light from the spotlights filtering through it and creating a kaleidoscope of colors that dance on the walls, momentarily distracting me from the anxious thoughts swirling in my mind.

"Ah, Rick, we were just talking about you!" Hershel suddenly says, making my head snap back with horror to see Hershel waving down Rick and Louise.

Shit shit shit.

My gaze locks onto Rick first, and a wave of apprehension washes over me as I take in how good he looks in his all-black tux, his curls styled perfectly to frame his face. For a split second, we make eye contact, and I notice a flicker of discomfort in his eyes, mirroring my own unease. But beside him, his date, Louise, is all smiles, completely oblivious to the tension brewing in the air.

I glance quickly at Louise, noting how she leads Rick over to me and Hershel with an eager expression, her bright smile a stark contrast to the tightening knot in my stomach. Her enthusiasm feels like a sharp jab, amplifying my anxiety.

As Rick and Louise draw closer, I notice the subtle shift in Rick's expression—his jaw tightens, and a guarded mask slips over his features. His eyes deliberately avoid mine, landing instead on Hershel with a forced smile that barely reaches his eyes. His posture is rigid, every muscle seemingly braced for impact.

He's worried. I can see it in the tension rippling through his shoulders, the way his fingers curl into his palms. Seems he's worried I'll tell his little girlfriend about me and him in Georgia.

"Rick, good to see you!" Hershel's voice breaks the tension, warm and welcoming as he extends his hand. Rick's grip is firm, but there's an undercurrent of tension in his movements, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us as he acknowledges Hershel.

"And you brought a lovely companion with you!" Hershel adds with a grin.

Rick nods, his voice steady but betraying nothing of the storm beneath the surface. "Thanks, Hershel. Yeah, this is Louise." His eyes flicker to mine for the briefest of moments, a silent plea or maybe a warning, before they settle back on Hershel.

Louise, unaware of the undercurrents, beams at Hershel, her enthusiasm bright and genuine. "So nice to meet you," she says, her smile radiant and effortless. The sight of it twists something deep in my chest, a sharp pang of jealousy I can't quite suppress. "Cass, it's so good to see you again," she adds, turning that same brightness onto me, and it feels like a knife twisting in my gut.

I force a smile, drawing in a sharp breath to steady myself. "Hi, Louise. Having fun so far?" I ask, my tone light as I tilt my head, trying to mask the turmoil roiling inside me. Louise grins back at me, but not before she sends Rick a quick look.

"Mhmm. You look great in that dress, by the way, the color suits you," Louise says with a smile that catches me off guard. I blink, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks, surprised by the compliment. My gaze flickers to Rick, who clenches his jaw and quickly turns away, focusing on his conversation with Hershel. The contrast between his reaction and Louise's easy charm strikes me, leaving me more confused than before.

"Oh, thank you. You look amazing," I reply, my smile softening into something more genuine as I take in her appearance. There's no denying it—Louise looks stunning in her black dress, and the realization only deepens the gnawing sense of jealousy.

Louise's smirk widens, and she tilts her head, her gaze lingering on me in a way that sends a chill down my spine. There's something in her eyes, a knowing glint that makes me wonder—does she know?

Should I tell her? Doesn't she deserve to know?

"So, Cass, did you come with a date?" Louise's voice is curious, her lips curling into a smile that makes my heart race. Her question hangs in the air, loaded with implications, because the only person I want to be with tonight is standing right next to her.

I clear my throat, trying to mask the nervous tremor in my voice. "Uh—no, I didn't," I manage, forcing a smile as I fidget with the stem of my champagne flute, anything to keep my hands from trembling.

Louise's brows raise in mild surprise, and she glances at Rick, who's gone pale, his eyes darting between us. There's something almost like fear in his gaze as Louise turns back to me, her expression curious and open, as if she's about to ask something more.

But Rick steps in before she can, his voice curt and tense. "Louise, come on, I need you to meet someone. So nice seeing you both," he says quickly, grabbing Louise by the upper arm and guiding her away with a sense of urgency that leaves me reeling.

I blink, bewildered, watching as Louise lets out a soft laugh, seemingly amused by Rick's sudden need to whisk her away. Rick, on the other hand, stares straight ahead, his jaw clenched so tightly I can practically hear his teeth grinding.

As someone else approaches Hershel to speak, I scoff under my breath, my eyes narrowing as I watch Rick and Louise retreat.

Is he seriously trying to keep her away from me? Does he think I'll tell her about what happened?

Then it hits me. That's exactly why he brought up that night so many times—he wanted to make sure I wouldn't let anything slip. He needed to make sure I wouldn't tell his little girlfriend about our 'business agreement' that night.

Narrowing my eyes, I watch as Rick leads Louise to another group, his hand still gripping her arm, his knuckles white.

As they disappear into the crowd, the noise of the party fades into the background, replaced by the roaring thoughts in my head. I feel a surge of anger—anger at Rick for putting me in this position, for making me doubt myself, and at Louise for being so blissfully ignorant, so trusting. I'm torn between wanting to protect her and wanting to see the truth shatter her perfect world.

"Cass?"

Hershel's voice pulls me back, and I blink, realizing he's been speaking to me. "Sorry, what was that?" I ask, forcing my attention back to him, though my mind is still on Rick and Louise.

"I was just asking if you're alright. You seemed a bit... distracted," Hershel says, his tone gentle, but his eyes are sharp, studying me.

I force a tight-lipped smile, barely managing to keep the edges of it from trembling. "I'm fine. Excuse me," I murmur, the words clipped and polite, but hollow. Without waiting for his response, I turn on my heel and head toward the bar, my steps quickening with each stride. I need something stronger, something to dull the edges of this gnawing anxiety.

At the bar, I throw back a couple of drinks in quick succession, the burn of alcohol soothing the raw nerves frayed by the night's events. By the time I'm leaning against one of the walls, nursing a fruity drink that's deceptively potent, the room has taken on a slightly blurred, dreamlike quality. The gala continues to unfold around me, a swirl of laughter and chatter that feels distant, almost unreal.

I'm lost in the haze when a voice pulls me back to reality, a voice that's becoming unnervingly familiar. "Oh, that looks good. What'd you get?" Louise's tone is casual, but there's that same curious edge to it, the one that makes my heart skip a beat. I glance up, startled, and there she is, standing before me with that ever-present inquisitive look in her eyes. A quick scan of the room confirms what I feared—Rick isn't with her.

Blinking, I push myself off the wall, trying to compose myself, forcing a smile that feels as brittle as glass. "I think it was called a crushed raspberry mojito," I murmur, the words slurring slightly as I struggle to meet her gaze. "Nothing too exciting." But even as I downplay the drink, the alcohol only heightens my guilt, the taste of betrayal lingering on my tongue.

The silence between us grows thick, almost suffocating, as Louise takes a sip of her clear drink, her eyes never leaving me. The weight of her gaze presses down, and my heart pounds in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the party around us.

"Are you nervous?" Louise's voice cuts through the silence, the words smooth and almost purring, like a cat toying with its prey. My eyes widen in surprise, snapping up to meet hers. There's a grin tugging at the corners of her lips, and I can see the intelligence behind her gaze, the way she's studying me, dissecting my every reaction. The room spins slightly, and I feel a wave of nausea rise, the sensation of being caught in her web making me want to flee.

"I—uh—wha-what makes you say that?" I stammer, the words tumbling out clumsily, my voice betraying me as it wavers. The moment they leave my lips, I know I've given myself away, and her grin widens, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. A cat that's just cornered her mouse.

A bead of sweat forms on my forehead, and I can feel my pulse hammering in my throat. She's too close to the truth, too perceptive, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up. The alcohol that was supposed to steady me only amplifies the dread coiling in my stomach, and I realize, with a sinking feeling, that I'm in way over my head.

Louise leans in slightly, her eyes narrowing with playful scrutiny. "Mmm, see, I think there's something you're keeping from me," she muses, her tone light, but there's a knowing edge to it that makes my heart skip a beat. There's something in her expression—something that seems oddly familiar, but my mind is too scrambled to place it. I try to shake off the unease, focusing on controlling my breathing, but it's a losing battle.

I bite my lip anxiously, my gaze darting back to her, my conscience warring with the pounding guilt in my chest. A quick survey of the ballroom reveals no sign of Rick, leaving me feeling more cornered and vulnerable than ever.

"I... shit. Yeah, there is." The confession slips out in a shaky breath, the words hanging in the air like a noose tightening around my neck. Louise tilts her head, her expression a mix of curiosity and expectation, silently urging me to continue. I wince, the weight of my admission settling heavily on my shoulders, making me feel like the lowest form of scum.

"Rick and I... we... hooked up. In Georgia, a few days ago," I blurt out, the words coming out in a rush as I clench my jaw, bracing for the impact. I watch as vivid shock ripples across Louise's face, her eyes widening, mouth parting slightly in disbelief. It's a look I'll never forget, one that will haunt me long after this moment.

Wincing, I drop my gaze, focusing on the rim of my glass, tracing it with trembling fingers as I try to gather my thoughts. "I know, I'm so sorry," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know about you—I just... It's a long story, but we got drugged and ended up stuck in this stupid motel, and it was a mistake. We both agreed it was a mistake. Nothing more is going to happen, I swear, I just—I'm so sorry." The words spill out in a ramble, weak and pleading, as if they could somehow undo the damage.

Louise stares at me, her expression shifting from shock to something else, and I cant bear seeing whatever it turns into. My stomach churns, knots tightening until I feel like I might be sick. In a moment of desperation, I thrust my drink toward her, unable to face the fallout. "Here, have my drink," I mutter, my voice hollow as I push the glass into her hand.

Without waiting for a response, I turn and rush past her, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps as I weave through the crowd. The noise of the party becomes a distant hum, drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears. I don't stop until I reach the side hallway leading to the restrooms, the dimly lit corridor offering a temporary refuge from the chaos.

My mind is a whirlwind, thoughts spiraling out of control, and I'm desperate for something—anything—to snap me out of this tailspin. The restroom is just ahead, and I think if I can just splash some water on my face, I might regain a shred of composure. But as I round the corner with too much momentum, I slam into something solid. A startled gasp escapes me as I nearly topple over, but strong hands grab my arms, steadying me before I can hit the floor.

My heart sinks like a stone when I hear that familiar voice. "Whoa, are you alri—" Rick's words die in his throat as our eyes lock, recognition and something like dread flashing in his gaze.

His hands drop from my arms as if they've been scalded, and I stagger back, barely catching my balance. The air between us is thick with tension, and I scoff, the sound bitter, raw, and filled with more emotion than I'd care to admit. I gather what little composure I have left, my breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts.

"I'm fine," I snap, answering his unfinished question, my voice cold and edged with anger. I make a move to push past him, desperate to put as much distance between us as possible, but he steps in front of me, blocking my path with a determination that sends a fresh wave of frustration coursing through me.

"No, you're not," Rick says, his voice low and stern, laced with a firmness that makes me freeze in my tracks. My chest heaves slightly, my heart still racing, not just from the confrontation with Louise but the fact I can still feel Rick's searing palms on where he caught me.

I clench my jaw, lifting my gaze to meet Rick's with defiant resolve. "Get out of my way. We're at a work event; you're not going to make a scene right now," I grit out, trying to maintain an even tone despite the storm of emotions raging inside me.

Rick exhales with frustration, his eyes darkening as he tilts his head down at me, his expression one of exasperation.

Without warning, he grabs my arm, and before I can object or even process what's happening, he yanks me into the nearest room—some sort of janitor's closet. The door slams shut behind us, and Rick flicks on the weak overhead light, casting a dim, flickering glow over the cramped space.

The over-filled shelves around us and the messy floor scattered with cleaning supplies pushes us close together by the door just shut behind Rick.

"Uh—excuse me!" I protest angrily, trying to push past him to get to the door, but Rick's broad frame blocks my way, his presence overwhelming in the confined space.

"Talk. What happened—was it Louise?" Rick's voice is tight, laced with an unfamiliar tension that makes me stop in my tracks. There's something in his tone that catches me off guard, something almost desperate, and I find myself looking up at him with a mix of irritation and confusion.

I exhale sharply, crossing my arms over my chest as I take in his stubborn expression. There's no use trying to dodge the conversation; he's not going to let this go. "Fine. Yeah, something did happen with Louise," I mutter, the aggravation seeping into my voice.

I knew Rick could be cocky, irritating, and an outright asshole, but I never imagined he'd stoop to being a cheater and a liar—the type to play women, to deceive them so easily. The thought of him stringing Louise along, of him lying to her face after what we did, makes my skin crawl.

Rick sighs heavily, closing his eyes for a moment and tilting his head back, staring up at the ceiling as if seeking some divine intervention. "For fuck's sake, Louise," he mutters under his breath, the frustration in his voice almost palpable.

I narrow my eyes, my confusion deepening. "You're blaming her? Seriously? God, you are such a hypocrite," I spit out, my words dripping with disgust. How dare he try to shift the blame onto her when he's the one who crossed the line?

Rick's brow furrows in response, his gaze snapping back to mine, his expression hardening into something almost defensive. "...hypocrite?" he echoes, his voice tinged with uncertainty as if he genuinely doesn't understand where my anger is coming from. His confusion only fuels my frustration, the distant strains of classical music from the gala mocking the chaotic disarray of emotions inside me.

"Yeah, hypocrite," I snap, my voice rising as I take a step closer, unable to hold back the tide of anger. "You called me a homewrecker for accidentally going on a date with a married man. And now, you show up with what? A girlfriend you conveniently forgot to mention when we hooked up in Georgia? And you expect me to keep quiet, to not tell her?" My words are a seething demand, the betrayal burning hot in my chest as I glare up at him.

Rick stares at me for a minute.

Then, to my utter disbelief, a smile begins to tug at the corners of his mouth, a small, infuriating smirk that turns my anger white-hot."Don't you smirk at me, you asshole!" I growl, smacking his stupid chest with both my hands, making him let out an even stupider soft chuckle that makes my heart stutter.

"Ca—Adams. Relax, there's no girlfriend," Rick says, his voice softened by the remnants of his laughter, his tone almost teasing. The casualness of his words brings me up short, my breath catching as I narrow my eyes at him, trying to gauge if he's messing with me.

Rick inhales, his demeanor shifting slightly as he turns back to me, clearing his throat, though amusement still dances in his eyes. "Louise is my sister," he says, his voice calm, as if he's delivering the most mundane piece of information.

I freeze, the words hitting me like a splash of cold water. My mouth falls open slightly as I try to process what he's just said, the realization slowly dawning on me.

Rick's smile widens, clearly enjoying the revelation. "I thought she would've mentioned that when she met you this morning," he murmurs, his brows raising in mild surprise as he watches my reaction. I shake my head, wracking my brain for any hint I might have missed, any clue that could've saved me from this mortifying misunderstanding.

"But... why—why are you acting all weird with her? It's like you've been avoiding me all night. I thought you were keeping her away from me, trying to stop me from telling her what happened," I mutter, the confusion in my voice now mixed with a tinge of embarrassment. My earlier certainty crumbles as the pieces don't quite fit together.

Rick clears his throat, clenching his jaw slightly. "Yeah. I was keeping you from her. But... it's uh... because Louise thinks you're.." He trails off, inhaling deeply before continuing, the muscle in his jaw feathering with tension. "...hot."

The word hangs in the air between us, and I blink, the sudden compliment catching me off guard. A blush creeps up my neck, warming my cheeks as I take a small step back, my mind racing to catch up with this new development. "Oh..." I manage to say, my voice trailing off awkwardly, leaving the space between us heavy with unspoken thoughts. The sharp smell of cleaning supplies fills the small closet, burning the inside of my nose, adding an almost surreal edge to the moment.

Rick shifts on his feet, breaking the silence. "Did you... say you told her?" he mutters quietly, his voice dangerously calm with a clear edge of concern.

I bite my lip, my gaze flicking nervously to his. "I... I may have told her," I admit with a cringe, the confession hanging in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. Rick exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose, his frustration barely contained.

A tense silence follows, and I take a deep breath, trying not to feel too relieved that he hasn't blown up on me—yet. A small voice in my head nags at me, wondering why he was keeping me from her. Is he... jealous?

Before I can voice any of my swirling thoughts, muffled shouts and cries break through the tension, coming from the other side of the door. Both Rick and I freeze, our heads snapping in the direction of the commotion.

"What was that?" Rick murmurs under his breath, his voice low with concern.

I smack his arm lightly, eyes wide. "Shush," I hiss, straining to catch more of the sounds filtering in from outside. I can feel Rick's exasperated gaze on me, but I ignore it, focusing on the growing sense of dread tightening in my chest.

"Someone call an ambulance!" "Is there a doctor in here?"

The words are muffled but unmistakable. My heart plummets, sinking into the pit of my stomach. My eyes meet Rick's, panic flashing between us. "Something's wrong. We need to help," I urge, my voice rising in desperation as I grab his arm, trying to get him to let us out.

Rick moves slightly but still doesn't open the door, making me growl with irritation. "Rick! Come on, this isn't funny!" I snap, frustration and panic rising in my chest.

"I'm trying!" he argues, his tone tinged with an edge of desperation as he juggles the handle, slamming his shoulder against the door. But it's no use—the door doesn't give.

A cold wave of dread washes over me as the walls of the closet suddenly seem to press in on us. "No, no, no..." I whisper, stumbling back against the wall, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. Rick slams his body against the door again, harder this time, but it's no use.

"We're stuck."