Afterward, as they lay tangled in sheets that cost more than her first car, Dee knocked softly. “He tipped another two grand. Said it was ‘art.’”
“Good.”
She was finally playing.
She moved first. That was the rule she’d set. She approached Jess slowly, like a cat deciding whether to trust a new couch. Jess’s breath hitched—genuine, not acting. Lily liked that. She traced a finger along Jess’s collarbone, then turned to Marco.