Ground Rules

NIA’S POV.

I opened the door just enough to see him.

Kingston stood in the hallway holding a small envelope and a plastic key card. He didn’t try to step inside. The hallway light caught the side of his face and the edge of a tattoo at his collar.

“Dad asked me to give these to you,” he said.

I kept one hand on the door. “What’s that?”

“Your key card. It gets you through the lobby, the private elevator, the gym, and the garage.” He held up a folded piece of paper. “And the Wi-Fi password.”

I reached for them. Our fingers brushed. Just a second. Warm skin against mine. I pulled back too fast and almost dropped the card.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He lifted his other hand. “Those cufflinks.”

I glanced at the nightstand, picked them up, and held them out. He took them carefully. Our fingers touched again. Longer this time. I felt it all the way up my arm. Both of us pretended nothing happened.

He turned like he was finished. I started to close the door.

Then he stopped halfway down the hall. Without turning around he said, “One more thing.”

He turned back. His face was calm, but his eyes weren’t.

“We need some ground rules.”

I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms so he wouldn’t see my hands. “Okay.”

“What happened three nights ago stays there.”

“Agreed.”

“Around our parents, we’re strangers.”

“Obviously.”

“And we avoid being alone together whenever possible.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think that’s possible when we live here?”

“We’ll make it possible.”

I let out a short breath. “Anything else? Want me to breathe on schedule too?”

The corner of his mouth moved. Almost a smile. Almost.

“The fewer opportunities we give ourselves to make another mistake,” he said, “the better.”

He walked away. I closed the door and locked it. The click sounded too loud in the quiet room. I stood there with my back against the wood for a few seconds before I moved.

I tried to sleep.

I lay on my back. Then my side. Then the other side. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the club lights cutting across his arms. The hotel room. The way he had looked at me across the dinner table like he was seeing a ghost. I flipped onto my stomach and pressed my face into the pillow.

“Of all the men in Atlanta…” I muttered into the fabric.

My throat felt dry. I sat up, waited, then swung my legs off the bed. The floor was cool under my bare feet. I pulled a hoodie over my sleep shirt and stepped into the hallway.

The penthouse was quiet. Only a few under-cabinet lights glowed in the kitchen, soft and yellow. I walked in, opened the fridge, and reached for a water bottle.

Someone was already there.

Kingston stood at the counter in a plain black T-shirt and sweatpants, pouring coffee. The machine hissed. His laptop sat open on the island, screen full of numbers and charts. The light from it lit the underside of his jaw.

We both froze.

I recovered first. “Rule number three lasted… what? Two hours?”

He almost smiled. “Technically neither of us planned this.”

I shut the fridge. The plastic cap cracked loudly when I twisted it.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“New house,” I replied.

“Yeah.”

He took a sip of coffee and nodded at my phone. The screen was still bright with job listings. “Seems your hands are full.”

I shrugged and leaned against the opposite counter. The stone was cold through my hoodie. “Applications don’t send themselves.”

He glanced at his laptop. “Same.”

We stood there. The coffee machine clicked as it cooled. The fridge hummed. He didn’t look like the man from the club right now. Just tired. Focused. Ordinary in a way that made it worse.

I took a long drink. “You always work this late?”

“When I have to.” He closed the laptop halfway. “Dad’s been pushing me to take on more. Figured I’d get a head start.”

I nodded. I didn't trust my voice with anything else.

The elevator chimed.

Both of us straightened. Victor stepped out in a robe, rubbing one eye. He stopped when he saw us and gave a small laugh.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

Kingston answered first, voice even. “Just grabbing coffee.”

I lifted the water bottle. “Water.”

Victor smiled, completely at ease. “First night in a new place is always the hardest. You’ll get used to it.”

He walked past us toward the hallway. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“We won’t,” Kingston said.

Victor disappeared. The elevator doors stayed open a second longer, then closed with a soft thud.

I looked at Kingston. He looked at me.

Neither of us mentioned how easy the lie had been.

I went back to my room. This time I slept in pieces.

Morning light came in bright and sharp through the wide windows. I pulled on jeans and a hoodie and walked out to the kitchen. My mother was already there, cheerful, pouring orange juice. Victor sat at the table with a tablet. Kingston stood near the counter in a dark suit, adjusting the same black cufflinks I had given back last night.

“Morning, baby,” my mother said. “Sleep okay?”

“Fine.”

Victor looked up and smiled. “Perfect timing.”

I paused with my hand on the fridge. “For what?”

“Kingston, I want you to take Nia to Carter Global this morning.”

The kitchen went quiet for half a second.

I shook my head. “That’s really not necessary.”

Victor waved a hand. “Nonsense. You’re looking for work. I want you to see how we operate. You may like it. Kingston can show you around, introduce you to a few people.”

Kingston didn’t argue. He just set his coffee down and nodded once.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Arguing would only make it look strange.

“Okay,” I said.

My mother smiled like everything was falling into place.

Twenty minutes later Kingston and I stood in front of the private elevator. No parents. Just us and the quiet hallway. I could smell his cologne from here—clean, dark, the same one from the club.

I kept my voice low. “This already breaks your rules.”

He pressed the button. The light above the doors lit up.

“I noticed.”

The doors slid open. We stepped inside. The space was small and mirrored. I could see both of us from three different angles. The doors closed with a soft final sound.

Neither of us spoke.