ASHLEY
“Jesus. Are you drawing up a contract?”
“Do you have a problem with boundaries, Mr. Langley?”
I glance up, welcoming his glare like a dare. Why the hell does he have to pick this godforsaken restaurant again? My stomach clenched, a bitter twist curling my tongue. I swallowed hard, blinking away the sudden rush of memory — every time he brought a new girl here. I’d almost frown at the thought, but hell, whatever.
It’s not like I mind. No, really. Just... a little nauseous and grossed out. My grip tightens on the stylus as I stab the next bullet point:
Clause 3A: No touching unless for press.
3B: No flowers. Ever again.
3C: Stop showing up with coffee like it means something.
Beckett leans back, arms crossed, jaw ticking. “You done?”
I don’t look up. I’m too busy. I tap my s
