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Just not perfect for me.

“You’re coming out tonight, right?” he asked after we had gotten out of our last class later that evening. “Diane said Audrey is in, too. And Lila’s bringing Tucker, so we’ll have a little friendly testosterone to balance us out at the bar.” He shot me that winning, dimpled grin.

“I don’t know,” I said, still debating.

I knew it was stupid, but part of me wanted to be at home tonight waiting for Stefan, so I could tell him about my A. I’d mentioned the project in passing, since it had required me to ask for help using the printer in his home office, and I had stressed that it was a huge part of my grade. I couldn’t help wanting to brag, hoping he’d maybe say he was proud of me. I still wanted to believe that the man who had attended the program’s first semester mixer with me, who’d played the perfect, supportive spouse in front of the dean and my favorite professor and all my classmates, was still in there somewhere. That it hadn’t all been an act. That some of it was real.

But I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment.

“Come on,” Gavin urged. “You’ve been hitting the books nonstop lately. Which, don’t get me wrong, is awesome. I’m incredibly impressed with you. Totally in awe.”

There he went, making me blush again. “Everybody studies,” I deflected.

Gavin squeezed my shoulder, sending warmth through me. “Not like you do, Tori. But my point is, you need a break. You’ve earned it.Panem et circenses, remember?”

Bread and circuses—the Latin phrase he’d taught me on our not-date. And he was right. I needed food and entertainment to be happy, to live a full life. I’d been hibernating for weeks.

“Are you saying there’s food involved?” I asked.

“Absolutely there will be food,” Gavin said. “I’ll pick you up around eight.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “Thank you. But I can take a car. Really. It’d be better if…well. I prefer to do my own thing.”

I didn’t want to tell him that I was afraid Stefan might see me leaving with Gavin, might get the wrong impression. Even though making my husband jealous might be a smart move, all things considered, I didn’t want to add to our marital struggles right now.

“Is this just your way of bailing out?” Gavin teased. “I can tell you’re still waffling.”

I thought about it for a moment, weighing my options. I could go home, eat alone and hide in my room until Stefan came home, ultimately tossing and turning until I fell asleep alone…or I could go out and have fun, celebrate my academic victories with a group of friends who genuinely liked spending time with me, including one very handsome man who would probably kiss me the second I gave him the go ahead. Not that I would.

But I could. If I wanted to.

“I need to go home and shower and change,” I told Gavin. “But I’ll be there. Text me the address where you guys are gonna be and I’ll meet up with you.”

“Promise?” he asked.

I grinned. “Promise. I can’t wait.”

I was still smiling when I got home, but that smile dropped when I got to my room and found a complete outfit laid out on my bed.

And not just an everyday outfit or something that had been pulled from my closet. No, everything on my bed was brand new, obviously expensive, and very, very classy.

I saw an elegant Chanel evening bag, black with a gold clasp, and a matching pair of heels beside it. There were several velvet jewelry boxes, containing a diamond cuff bracelet that almost looked like a piece of lace with all its intricate filigree work, two more delicate gold bangles to match, and an opera-length pearl necklace. And then there was the dress.

There was no denying it was absolutely gorgeous.

It was a black Gucci gown, perfect for the late fall season with its bracelet-length, longer sleeves and floor-length hem. The fabric was sleek, with a hint of sheen, the waistline ruched and the back open. Besides the daring back and a subtle, thigh-high slit up the skirt—that could expose either none or most of my left leg, depending on how I was standing—the dress was fairly modest. That perfect combination of sexy and respectable. I couldn’t help touching the fabric gently, not sure why this outfit was on my bed.

Then I heard footsteps behind me.

Stefan hadn’t just come home before to set all this out for me—he was still here.

I whirled to face him.

Annoyingly, and unsurprisingly, my heart started pounding at the sight of him. He was dressed in one of my favorite suits of his, a black Armani with a satin collar that fit him impeccably. His dark hair was combed, but a stray lock had already fallen over his forehead, giving him a devil-may-care appearance that made my pulse leap and my core go hot and liquid.

I told myself that it wasn’t my fault for reacting this way. He was an attractive man. My body, therefore, was attracted to him. That didn’t mean anything had changed between us.

“You’re home,” he said, his tone expressionless.