What the hell was Winslow doing?

“Oh, she saw my cock, all right.” He dropped on the loveseat next to me, breaking the news like it was an international matter. His arm snaked behind me, his chin almost resting on my shoulder. “And she stared. Real long. Which prompted me to ask her how many cocks she’d seen in real life, a question I still have no answer to. Maybe you could enlighten me. Cute kid, by the way.”

Natasha’s jaw dropped, and if it weren’t for the fact Ziggy had managed to slip out of her embrace and skip away toward the kitchen, she’d be sitting there and ogling Alex until we were back on US soil.

“You look great in real life,” she breathed out, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Not technically real life, but I’ll take it.” Alex’s broad, tight shoulder brushed into mine, and I winced, inching away from him. “I’m trying to convince Indie to warm up to me. How do you think I should do that?”

You’re trying to get me into your bed, I wanted to correct. And here’s the first thing on your to-do list: don’t ask me to hook you up with random chicks named Gina.

“She likes cycling.” Nat’s smile was sinister and sweet at the same time, and I wanted to be that way. Dangerous and unassuming at the same time. “She would cycle all day if she could. So, I’d start with that.”

He nodded. “Good idea, Natasha.”

“Oh, wow. You know my name.”

“I pay attention when she speaks.” He was putting his charmer face on. Great. No one could say no to that, Nat included.

“He’s a keeper,” my sister-in-law said before turning off the camera.

I shook my head. He was the opposite of a keeper. He was the guy I knew for sure was going to walk away. I shut the laptop screen, my heart drumming against my throat. Alex tilted his body forward, his lips close to my shoulder blade.

“I’m going to have you,” he whispered, “glue .”

My eyes burned, and I stared ahead at Alfie’s blond curls as he looked down, playing a Nintendo game.

For the first time in a long time, I knew I was in deep trouble.

Something I couldn’t control.

Because Alex Winslow was a broken vase.

But I wasn’t the glue. I was the stupid cleaner who was about to try to pick up the pieces and, inevitably, get cut.

The minute I stepped into my hotel room, I started pacing.

Fingers laced behind my neck, I walked in circles. My limbs felt different. Shorter, heavier, more tense. It was the lack of physical exercise and all the crappy food, I concluded. I hadn’t cycled at all since we’d started the tour, plus, Alex had a thing for gas station sandwiches and street food, which left us without decent catering, and therefore, eating junk or too-rich room service most of the time.

I dropped my head, worrying my lip. Being away from home felt like a betrayal. Guilt ate at my insides for not being able to help Nat with Ziggy when she needed me the most. But what truly horrified me was that I still found myself being occupied with Alex Winslow’s privates when so much was at stake.

A knock on the door made my head shoot up. All the hotel rooms I’d been in so far were different—some bright and some dark, some classically furnished and some contemporarily decorated—yet held the same melancholy of a place that never offered true intimacy. This room had peachy walls, high ceilings, and linen the color of gold. It looked luxurious beyond words, like something you would copy and paste from a bridal catalog. And I couldn’t enjoy it when my loved ones were suffering two continents away.

Another knock, this time harder.

“Geez, I’m coming.” I made my way to the door, still dressed in my black and white plaid dress, one of the first I’d made for myself. My hair was a mess, and my eyes were red-rimmed. I swung the door open. Alex stood on the other side of the threshold.

He’d changed from his usual plane attire. Now he was wearing skinny jeans and a Smiths T-shirt.

He looked delicious.

He also looks like a man who slept with someone else last night, Little Miss Dementia.

“What do you want, Winslow?” I cut straight to the chase. I had neither desire nor the need to be polite to him. He shouldn’t even be walking around by himself. Where was Blake?

“Stardust.” He rolled the nickname on his tongue, his British accent slicing through the letters prominently.

“To what do I owe this dubious pleasure? Also, am I talking to the charming, playful Alex today, or to the jerk who made me help him score last night?” I quirked an eyebrow, collecting my hair into a high and messy bun.

“Glad we finally established I’m charming.”

“Sometimes, when you’re trying to be. Big difference.”

“But it’s working?”

“Not really,” I lied.

“All walled up and waiting to be defrosted. That’s how I like you.” He grabbed my hand and jerked me out of my room in one swift movement. “You’re like a piece of delicious toffee in a thin wrapper. It’s tedious work to peel your layers off, but whatever’s waiting for me inside is too sweet to pass. I’m about to smash those walls of yours to dust. It will take you years building them back, but I won’t be there when it happens, so no big deal.”

I glued my feet to the carpeted floor, looking around us. He had a show in six hours. He was probably going to try for some hanky-panky in the hallway. He ushered me down the hall, and I dragged my feet like he was leading me straight to the gates of hell. Still, I couldn’t turn around and leave him in the hallway, alone and dangerously free to do whatever he wanted. Besides, there was a surprise at the end of this journey, and I wanted to see what it was. Alex slapped his open palm against the elevator button and turned around. He crowded me with his body. I stepped back. He stepped forward. A tango I was getting used to by now.

“Where’s Blake? Why are you here?” My eyes narrowed.

“Chained him to my bed and nailed him to the headboard.”

“Does he know you’re with me?” I ignored his stupid joke.

He bowed a playful brow. This particular expression drove me mad. It implied I was his cute baby sister who’d just made macaroni art and showed it to him.

“Let’s get one thing straight. Blake? He’s on my payroll. Waitrose? On my payroll. Alfie? Gross human being and on my payroll. So are you. You’re answering to me, and right now I wanna be with you. So I will. It’s really that simple, you see.”