But of course, there are always exceptions.


    Take Lysander''s father, Conrad Montgomery. The man was hopelessly devoted to his wife-so much so that it still surprised M sometimes. After all, he was the first of the Montgomerys to break the mold.


    But honestly,pared to Lysander, Archie was a much betterpanion. He was the warm-hearted type-maybe a little too nosy and gossipy for his own good, but harmless all the same.


    Still, the mess between her and Lysander? That was thest thing she''d ever share with Archie. Once he knew, the whole world would know.


    "Grown-ups'' business, Archie. Kids shouldn''t pry," M teased, her mood suddenly lifting for reasons she couldn''t exin.


    Archie bristled at that.


    Amidst the bickering, they managed to finish their meal. Afterwards, they headed to the cottage Archie had booked. At least tonight, they wouldn''t be sleeping in the car. After a hot shower and some time to freshen up, M was out like a light, her mind drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.


    Northpoint University, gymnasium.


    The basketball game had just wrapped up, and the men''s locker room was buzzing with energy. A dozen guys-bare-chested, muscles rippling-shoved and joked with one another, theirughter echoing off the tile.


    The conversation started with dinner ns, but soon devolved into crude jokes about bedroom exploits.


    Someone called out to Lysander, who was still dressed in his tracksuit, leaning against the lockers. "Hey, Lysander, you not changing? We''re hitting the bar tonight, youing?"


    Lysander smiled. "Not tonight, guys. I''m heading home."


    The guy gave him a funny look. "What''s up with youtely? Always sneaking off after practice, never hanging with us anymore. Wait-don''t tell me you''re seeing someone? When did this happen? And where''s the lucky girl? You gotta introduce her to the crew, man!"


    "If she''s caught Lysander''s eye, she must be something special," someone else chimed in, and the rest of the team whooped in agreement.


    Lysander just shook his head. "You guys have too much free time. Now get out of here-drinks are on me tonight."


    "Now that''s what I call generosity!" someone cheered.


    The guys erupted into cheers, and the teasing faded as everyone changed and


    left in pairs, stillughing and shoving each other on their way out.


    Soon, Lysander was alone in the locker room.


    He turned, a slow smile spreading across his face, and opened a tall locker. Inside, a girl sat curled up, her eyes covered with a tie, her cheeks flushed deep red.


    "Why didn''t you take off the tie?" he asked softly.


    She pressed her lips together, voice cool. "Didn''t want to see something that would ruin my day."


    M was still annoyed. She''d barely finished her afternoon sses when Lysander messaged, telling her toe to the gym. Their two-month "contract rtionship" had terms-no crossing the line, no going public, but otherwise they were supposed to act like any real couple. Still, M never imagined he''d take things this far.


    She thought she was just picking up her on-paper boyfriend for dinner, but instead, he whisked her straight into the men''s locker room and kissed her- without the slightest care for the setting, as if the "no public disys" use meant nothing. He didn''t seem the least bit worried about being caught.


    Sure enough, they barely shared a kiss before the door swung open, and she ended up hiding in the locker like this. M had never dated before—was this what rtionships were supposed to be like?


    Truth be told, M didn''t want to be found out. This was just a contract, a temporary arrangement she agreed to out of necessity. If it ended publicly, it would be nothing but a joke.


    She understood the nature of this rtionship perfectly. She kept her wits about her.


    With a frown, she started to stand, reaching up to remove the tie from her eyes. "I''m noting here again..."


    But before she could finish, he caught her hand midair.


    She barely had time to react before his fingers wrapped around her wrist-warm, firm, and slow as they traced from her brow down her cheek, feather-light, sending a shiver down her spine as he tugged the tie lower.


    With her vision blocked, every sound and sensation felt magnified.


    She heard his breath grow heavier, felt the air turn heated between them. His voice was low and rough, rumbling right by her ear, and she could feel her face burn.


    "I wanted to do this back when you were my assistant," he murmured. "Undress you, piece by piece-right here in the locker, just like this..."