“Carter? Why do you have a condo if you don’t live there?” “Condo?” Garrett repeats, wrapping me in a hug as he moves by us. “You mean Carter’s Palace of—” He slams his jaw shut, eyes wide as his gaze ricochets between us. “Carter’s Palace of what?” I urge. “Don’t,” Carter warns him lowly. “Don’t you dare.” A beat of silence stretches between us, the tension palpable. “Love,” Garrett whispers. “Carter’s Palace of Love.” He cowers from Carter’s menacing stare before dashing down the hallway, calling his apology over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t lie well under pressure! Don’t hurt
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