Then came a sharp jab to his ribs—Ashcroft, elbowing him with classic say something, bro energy.
Finally, he spoke.
“Hello, Maya.”
Her name sounded different in his voice. Low. Careful. As though he was tasting it, not just saying it.
She swallowed, willing her voice not to shake.
“Hi.”
Just that. Hi.
But her throat was dry, and her pulse wasn’t even pretending she was fine.
Damien’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “You look beautiful.”
Maya blinked.
Not pretty. Not nice. Beautiful.
A flicker of panic threatened to rise in her chest, but she pushed it down. Do not retreat, Harper’s voice echoed in her mind.
So she met his gaze—head high, chin steady—and said, “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”
A slight twitch of amusement curved the corner of his lips.
“I had help,” he s
