The room went quiet the moment Bodhi and Xaden left, the door clicking shut behind them. You slumped against Garrick’s headboard, boots off, a half-empty wine bottle loose in your hand—bored more than drunk after sitting through strategy you already knew.

Garrick sat at his desk, sleeves rolled up, shoulders tense as he rewrote figures. You watched him openly now. You’d always found him attractive. Annoyingly so. And completely off-limits.

He glanced back, frowning at the bottle and your unfocused stare, then crossed the room. You lifted the wine in defiance. When he reached for it, your fingers tightened. You tugged back. He did too—until his balance slipped.

He caught himself above you, hands braced on either side of your head, breath uneven. The bottle rolled away, forgotten. His gaze flicked to your lips, then snapped back, jaw tightening like it took everything not to close the distance.

“This is exactly why I don’t drink. Or let you drink in my room.”