Chapter 2: An Invitation Upstairs

The elevator rose silently through the building, its polished brass fixtures reflecting Nicole's nervous face back at her in fractured glimpses. Eva stood beside her with the relaxed confidence of a woman completely at ease in her own skin, humming softly under her breath as if escorting rain-soaked strangers upstairs was perfectly normal.

"Penthouse," Eva said conversationally as the numbers climbed past the twentieth floor. "Bryce insisted on the view."

Nicole nodded mutely, her hands clasped so tightly in front of her that her knuckles had gone white. What was she doing? She didn't follow mysterious women into their apartments. She didn't watch couples through windows. She lived a careful, predictable life where the most spontaneous thing she did was ordering a different coffee flavor.

Yet here she was, ascending toward what felt like her own personal point of no return.

The elevator chimed softly, and the doors slid open to reveal a private foyer with only one door—heavy, dark wood that looked like it belonged in a European castle rather than a downtown apartment building. Eva produced a key from somewhere in her dress and turned to Nicole with that same knowing smile.

"Last chance to run," she said lightly, but her hazel eyes were serious. "Once you walk through this door, Nicole, things change."

For a moment, Nicole teetered on the edge of fleeing. Her practical mind catalogued all the reasons she should thank Eva politely and ask to use the phone to call a cab. But her body had other ideas—her pulse quickened at Eva's words, and that strange, unfamiliar heat in her belly flared stronger.

"I don't run," she heard herself say, though her voice shook slightly.

Eva's smile turned predatory. "Good girl."

The apartment beyond was nothing like Nicole had expected. Instead of the sterile luxury of most high-end spaces, this felt lived-in, almost decadent. Rich jewel tones dominated the color scheme—deep emeralds and sapphires accented with gold that caught the warm lamplight. Expensive art lined the walls, but it was sensual rather than cold, celebrating the human form in all its glory.

Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city lights, rain still streaking down the glass like tears. But what drew Nicole's attention was the sheer opulence of everything—from the silk throw pillows scattered across an enormous sectional sofa to the crystal decanters on a bar cart that probably cost more than her monthly rent.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Eva said, watching Nicole's wide-eyed survey of the room. "Bryce has very particular tastes."

"What does he do?" Nicole asked, then immediately regretted the question. It felt too personal, too intrusive.

"Security consulting," Eva replied smoothly, moving to the bar cart. "He protects people who can afford the best protection money can buy." She poured amber liquid into two glasses, the crystal singing softly. "Whiskey? You look like you need it."

Nicole accepted the glass gratefully, hoping the alcohol would steady her nerves. The whiskey was smooth and expensive, warming her from the inside out. She was so focused on not embarrassing herself that she almost missed the sound of footsteps on hardwood.

"Eva? You brought our guest upstairs."

The voice was deep, commanding, with just a hint of an accent Nicole couldn't place. She turned, and the whiskey glass nearly slipped from her nerveless fingers.

Bryce dominated the doorway like he owned not just the apartment but the entire building. He was even more imposing in person than he'd been as a silhouette—easily over six feet tall, with the kind of muscular build that spoke of serious physical training. His dark blond hair was still damp, falling to his shoulders in waves that somehow managed to look deliberately tousled rather than messy.

But it was his eyes that made Nicole's breath catch. Piercing blue rimmed with a darker shade, they swept over her with an intensity that made her feel completely exposed. He wore only dark jeans, his torso bare and displaying a canvas of scars that told stories she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"This is Nicole," Eva said, moving to stand beside him with fluid grace. "The beautiful woman from the street."

Nicole wanted to disappear into the expensive carpet. The way they both looked at her—like she was something fascinating and rare they'd discovered—made her skin flush hot and cold alternately.

"Nicole," Bryce repeated, her name rolling off his tongue like a caress. "You enjoyed the show?"

The blunt question made her choke on her whiskey. "I—that's not—I wasn't trying to—"

"Relax," Eva purred, moving closer. "There's no judgment here. Is there, darling?"

Instead of answering, Bryce crossed to Eva with predatory grace and pulled her against him. Nicole watched, transfixed, as his large hands spanned Eva's waist and his mouth found hers in a kiss that was pure possession. Eva melted into him with a soft sound of pleasure, her fingers tangling in his hair.

It was the same raw passion Nicole had witnessed from the street, but seeing it up close made her knees weak. This wasn't a performance for her benefit—this was two people who couldn't keep their hands off each other, who moved together like they shared the same soul.

When they broke apart, both were breathing hard. Bryce's eyes never left Eva's face, his thumb tracing her swollen bottom lip with reverent care.

"Perfect," he murmured, and Nicole felt like she was intruding on something sacred.

"We have company," Eva reminded him softly, though she made no move to step away from his embrace.

Bryce's gaze shifted to Nicole, and the intensity in those blue eyes made her feel like a deer caught in headlights. "So we do." He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Tell me, Nicole—what is it you want?"

The question caught her completely off guard. "I... what do you mean?"

"From life. From tonight. From yourself." He moved closer, and Nicole caught his scent—something clean and masculine with an undertone of danger that made her pulse race. "You don't strike me as a woman who often finds herself in strangers' apartments."

Nicole's laugh came out shaky. "No, I... this isn't like me at all."

"But here you are," Eva observed, settling gracefully onto the sofa. "Why is that, do you think?"

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Nicole took another sip of whiskey, buying herself time to think. Why was she here? She should have called a cab from the lobby. Should have made polite excuses and fled back to her safe, predictable life.

"I don't know," she admitted finally. "I was supposed to have a date tonight, but he stood me up. Again. And I was standing there in the rain, feeling sorry for myself, when I saw you two and..." She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

"And you realized what you've been missing," Bryce finished for her, his voice gentle but certain.

Nicole's cheeks burned. "I should go. This is crazy. I don't do things like this."

"What things?" Eva asked innocently. "Having a drink with new friends during a storm?"

But there was nothing innocent about the way she said it, or the way Bryce's eyes tracked every movement of Nicole's body. The air in the room felt charged, electric with possibility and something Nicole didn't want to name.

"I think," Eva continued, rising from the sofa with feline grace, "that you're tired of being safe. Tired of dating men who don't appreciate what they have. Tired of living a life that fits you like a costume instead of a second skin."

Each word hit closer to home than Nicole wanted to admit. Eva moved closer, close enough that Nicole could see the gold flecks in her hazel eyes.

"I think," Eva whispered, reaching out to brush a strand of damp hair from Nicole's face, "you've been waiting your whole life for someone to really see you. To want you the way you deserve to be wanted."

Nicole's breath caught. Eva's fingers lingered against her cheek, warm and soft, and for a moment the entire world narrowed to that single point of contact.

"The question is," Eva continued, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "are you brave enough to let us show you what that feels like?"

The silence stretched between them, filled with possibility and promise. Nicole was dimly aware of Bryce watching them both, his expression intense but patient, like a predator waiting for exactly the right moment to strike.

Her phone buzzed in her purse—probably David, finally remembering their date. The sound shattered the spell, reminding her of her real life waiting outside this gorgeous, dangerous bubble.

But when she looked into Eva's eyes, she realized she didn't want to go back to that life. Not yet.

"Show me," she whispered, the words leaving her lips before she could stop them.

Eva's smile was radiant and wicked all at once. "With pleasure."