***---Harper---***
I put my phone facedown and tried to answer actual emails. The fantasy reel wouldn't stop. Garret's hands on my waist. The way he'd sound if I pushed him too far. How easy it would be to let him back me into his office and forget my last name. My body went warm with that thought, a slow roll of heat that made my toes curl in my sensible flats.
I stood up and reorganized the pen cup aggressively. I straightened the stack of visitor passes. I imagined what would happen if I swung around the desk and said something insane like, I have an opening at nine if you want to ruin my life. I sat back down before my mouth could get me fired.
The afternoon dragged on. I was so bored that I actually considered running into Paula's office to dance a hula. But since she was the head of HR, she'd probably just be offended.
Garret didn't come back through the lobby again. I told myself that was for the best. My thighs sulked.
Closing time finally arrived. I grabbed my tote and fled into the evening with the rest of the exhausted.
Chloe had left a Post-it on the door. Bought wine. Do not open without me.
I rolled my eyes, tossed my keys into the bowl, and kicked off my shoes. The apartment was quiet. The living room smelled like vanilla candles and thrift-store books. I dropped onto the couch with a groan and pulled my phone out to doomscroll for exactly eight seconds.
The notification was waiting.
Velour: You have a match. Compatibility 98%.
The room tilted. I sat up so fast my neck popped. My heart tripped, skidded, and forgot how to slow down.
Another notification stacked under it.
Axiom: Hello, Crownless.
I blinked. Then blinked again. Holy hell, it was happening. My fingers went cold. My toes went hot. I swallowed and clicked the chat before I could overthink it.
His profile was bare. No pictures, because those weren't allowed. Just a codename and three words: Risk. Control. Worship.
I was going to pass out.
A typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Came back. My stomach did backflips.
Axiom: I read your profile. I like your honesty.
I typed. Deleted. Typed again.
Crownless: I tried to leave out the war crimes.
Axiom: Cute. And confident. Good. Do you have questions?
Crownless: A few. How tall are you? What's your favorite whiskey? Will you cry if I bite you?
Axiom: Six two. Lagavulin. No.
I coughed out a laugh I couldn't hold. My cheeks hurt from smiling at a stranger who felt a little like a ghost and a little like a dare.
Axiom: I prefer to meet quickly. No pretending. No endless messages. If you're comfortable, choose a night. I'll book the room.
Everything in me jolted. Fast and direct. Exactly what the app promised. My pulse found a new gear. My brain conjured a pair of hands I had no business conjuring.
I stared at the Reserve button at the bottom of the screen. Julian's place. Masks. Rules. Safety. My name nowhere. My face hidden. My body finally getting something it had been begging me for since the first time Garret Bannen looked at me like a problem he planned to solve.
The front door opened. Chloe came in with a bag of groceries and a mouth already moving. "Tell me you didn't drink the wine without me. Oh my god, are you okay?! You look like you saw God."
I held up the phone.
She squealed so loud the neighbor's dog barked. "He messaged! What did he say? Is he weird? Do I have to call Julian and have him thrown into the sun?"
"He's…normal, I think. Maybe?" I answered. "I mean. He's intense. But normal."
Chloe dropped the groceries and dove onto the couch. "Read it to me."
I did. She squinted at the screen like a jeweler. "Axiom. Risk. Control. Worship. Honestly I'd marry him for that last one."
"Don't make this about you." I said, but my voice had no heat.
"Pick a night." she urged. "You'll spiral if you don't. Do Friday. You love Fridays!"
I stared at the days of the week like they could bite me. Friday hovered, bright and daring. I pictured myself in a mask. I pictured a hand at the back of my neck, friendly and firm. I pictured forgetting how to think.
"Friday." The word tasted like adventure.
I typed it before I could change my mind.
Crownless: Friday. 9.
Three dots blinked. My heart tried to leave my body through my throat.
Axiom: Friday. 9. I'll send the room. Masks. Rules. Consent. Say yes when you mean it. Say stop when you need to. And wear what makes you feel dangerous.
I let out a sound that was not human. Chloe clapped like a maniac and then shoved a pillow over her own face to muffle her shriek.
I stared at the last line until my eyes blurred. Wear what makes you feel dangerous? My closet was full of cardigans and regret. I could borrow something from Chloe. I could go shopping. I could wear nothing under my coat and call it a look.
"Harper?" Chloe's voice was soft, bringing me back down. "You okay?"
I nodded. Honest for once. "I think I'm excited. And terrified. But mostly excited."
"Good." She nudged my knee with hers. "Text Nadia the code word so she doesn't send a wellness check to the club."
I snorted and typed to the group chat.
Me: We're on for Friday. If I vanish, assume I joined a commune. Or died happy.
Nadia: I will allow this only if you give me details. Also, bring water.
I looked back at the app. The reservation confirmation popped at the top of the chat. Room name. Time set. Rules attached in a tidy list that made my brain relax.
Axiom: See you, Crownless.
I didn't reply. Not yet. I locked the screen and lay back on the couch while the ceiling fan hummed and Chloe performed a one-woman victory dance to celebrate my impending sins.
Friday at nine.
My life tilted on its axis and clicked into a new groove.
Okay, Velour. Okay, mysterious Axiom. Okay, universe.
Let's see if your math can handle a hot mess like me.