Delia's hand covered her mouth, and her eyes flew open.

What was she doing?

"Wait, we—we can't." She stepped back, trying to focus on Jake's face, but it was shadowed. "What about Stella? I—she likes you, and I thought you and she—"

Jake's shoulders sagged. "About Stella—do you like me, Delia?"

"What?"

"It's a simple question."

"She is my sister, Jake, and I can't hurt her like this."

Although she couldn't make out his face, she knew he was frowning.

"You didn't answer."

"It doesn't matter."

The brooding silence radiating from Jake made her heart clench.

"I should go then, before I do something we'll both regret."

"Jake—"

"Goodnight, Delia."

Jake abruptly turned and left, leaving Delia confused and shattered.

What had just happened? Did Jake like her?

Delia rushed out of the apartment.

"Jake!"

Jake stopped a few feet from his door but did not turn around.

"What— what did you mean?" she asked, but she stayed just outside her doorway.

"Go back inside, Delia. Please." His voice was harsh, and she shivered.

"Jake-"

"We will talk tomorrow, but I think we both should get some sleep." He moved to unlock his door, and with a curt nod in her direction, he disappeared into his apartment.

*

Delia rubbed her face wearily as she sat at her desk, laptop open. Was she ever going to sleep again?

She looked at the time. 1 am. Wonderful.

The events of the last two days played on a loop in her mind. She had never once given Jake any indication that she liked him. At least she thought she hadn't. She was just a temporary stand-in for her sister, at her sister's request.

She frowned. In hindsight, Jake would have been perfectly fine without her as an escort. All her presence had really done was put both her and her sister on a certain person's radar.

Ugh, Mrs. Sarah Cartridge. Wait until Stella hears about her!

Delia giggled. Every fairytale needs a villain, right? Her phone pinged, and she almost fell out of her chair.

Jake?

Are you awake?

She hesitated for a moment before typing.

No. I just randomly respond to texts in my sleep.

She smiled when he returned with a laughing smiley face.

Can I come over?

Her smile disappeared. Her fingers hovered over the keypad as her heart raced in her chest. She was still contemplating a response when she heard a knock on the apartment door.

She jumped up, dropping the phone on the desk.

What should she do? What should she do?

The knock came again, a little louder.

Her mind swept away any rational thoughts, and she rushed to the door.

"Hey," Jake greeted her as she opened the door.

"Jake, I don't think—uh—I don't think—this—uh—is a uh—" she faltered as she stared at him. How dare he look so fucking gorgeous? She licked her lips as she devoured the blue pajama shorts and black vest that clung lovingly to his body. She balled her hands.

This was a mistake.

"Delia." It was not a question but a command that drew her gaze to his. Before she could speak, he crossed the space between them and shut the door firmly behind him. His hands cupped her face. This time, he did not ask before claiming her lips with his.

Her hands moved of their own volition, snaking up to grip his shoulders. He moved, pressing her against the entry wall. Delia moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss. His hands glided down to settle on the thin cotton of her nightshirt, just beneath the curve of her breasts.

The heat that pooled from his palms flooded her body as his fingers dug into her flesh.

"Fuck, Delia, you are so intoxicating," he breathed as his mouth left hers to kiss the sensitive skin at the crook of her neck.

Delia gasped as a hand slid higher, molding the softness of an aroused mound. She bit her lip as a spark of electricity shot through her body. Jake's mouth found hers again, and she eagerly parted her lips.

How long had it been since she had been kissed like this? This was like one of Stella's many encounters she liked to share in vivid detail.

Stella!

Delia groaned and twisted her head away, pushing Jake away.

"We-we can't do this," she whispered. "I can't do this. Please, go."

"Delia."

Delia shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "Please, just go, Jake."

For a moment, she thought Jake was going to ignore her and pull her into his arms again, but all she heard was the door opening and closing.

She waited several more minutes before daring to open her eyes. She was alone. She sank to the floor, hugging her legs to her chest. How long she sat like that, she could not recall. Her body and mind were numb.

She returned to her bedroom, instinctively picking up her flashing phone.

I am sorry.

Oh, Stella. What have I done?

Stupid Cupid shot the wrong girl.

*