All Chapters of Wrong Train, Right Trouble: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Christian nodded with quiet understanding. “It means a lot that you’ve got her back.”Tig gave a small smirk. “Glad we’re clear. I was about to offer you a complimentary tat, but I get the sense you’re not exactly the ink type.”Christian threw a quick glance my way, then winked. “I’m into her ink.” He scratched at the stubble along his jaw, looking like something had just occurred to him. “Actually… I might take you up on that. Do you do cover-ups?”“Sure do. What are we talking about?”“I’ve got a piece I regret. A mistake I’ve been meaning to erase. Thought maybe I could transform it into something new.”My eyebrows shot up. Christian had a tattoo?“No kidding?” Tig motioned toward the back. “Let’s check it out.”I followed them, my eyes unwilling to stray from Christian’s perfect backside. Those jeans were doing sinful things to my imagination, and all I wanted was to grab a handful. I wondered what he’d do if I actually did.The noise of the party faded the moment we slipped into

LENATHE FOLLOWING DAY AT WORK, the deliveries began—and they didn’t stop. Bouquets of roses in waves of color: red, pink, yellow. Every hour, without fail, another dozen would arrive at my desk. At first, I didn’t understand why Christian was doing it. But eventually, it clicked. It was the story I’d shared about my father and the rose ceremony. That memory I’d buried. A card had come loose from the first bouquet—one I hadn’t noticed until later. The message, scribbled in simple pen, read: These are long overdue. The weight in my chest tightened, filling with a blend of warmth and ache I couldn’t quite name.That evening, we were supposed to attend the gala together. I’d been dreading it all week—completely out of my comfort zone. I felt that nervous buzz in my belly from the moment I stepped into the office. During lunch, I swung by Bergdorf’s and held two formal dresses at the counter, unable to decide between them.Returning to the office, I found a takeout container on my desk, t

There was something strangely sweet about his confession. Another song filtered through the speakers, and we drifted in silence for a while, our bodies moving as one, fluid and easy.Resting my head against his chest, I let out a breath. “This feels nice. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d enjoy it.”Christian brushed his nose along my temple. “Same here. I usually can’t stand things like this.”That wall I always kept up? It was slowly crumbling around him. But it didn’t take long for life to remind me exactly why I built it in the first place.We were seated at a large, circular table arranged to host at least a dozen guests. Christian took the time to introduce me to the couples on either side, though a few seats remained unoccupied.“And what line of work are you in, Lena, was it?” The man to my left, Braxton Harlow, offered a pleasant smile. He was older, but still had that distinguished charm, with silver hair that contrasted sharply with his sun-warmed skin. Christian was deep in a c

She went quiet for a moment before saying softly, “Christian… that’s… wow… I… that’s really beautiful.”Feeling a sudden wave of emotion, I quickly pivoted. “So, what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”“I wanted to ask if I should bring anything.”“Just that gorgeous ass of yours, sweetheart.”“I’m serious. I want to bring something.”“I’ve got everything under control.”“Alright… then wine. I’m bringing wine.”God, this woman was stubborn.“My driver will be at your place in an hour.”“Okay.”I hesitated for a beat, then murmured her name, “Lena…”“Yeah?”“I can’t fucking wait to see you.”⸻I WAS SO WRAPPED UP in setting our table that I’d forgotten to notify the doorman to send Lena straight up. When he rang to say she’d arrived, I decided to have a little fun.“Put Miss Venedetta on the line, please,” I told him.She came on, her voice like velvet. “Yes?” My dick stirred at the mere sound of her. She wasn’t even in front of me yet, and I was already hard just knowing she was in

“Nah, we were just… having some pasta,” Christian said, casting a brief glance in my direction. We shared a look, subtle but telling.“What did the doctor say about me?” Lil asked from the hospital bed.“He believes you’re going to need surgery on your hip. They’re keeping you here for a few days, then transferring you to a rehab center. I’m coordinating with Cambria to make sure you’re placed somewhere top-tier.”“I don’t want you stressing yourself out over me.”“You could’ve hit your head, Lil. You don’t even remember how you fell. Of course I’m going to be concerned. I’m just grateful it wasn’t something worse, Meme.”“So am I,” I murmured quietly.We stayed by Lil’s side for another hour before finally heading back toward the city. Christian turned on some soft classical music for the drive and didn’t say a single word the entire way. The silence was heavy, thoughtful. It wasn’t until we crossed into Manhattan that I finally broke it.“Are you alright?”“Yeah… I’m okay. It’s just