They promise they’ll be back as they grab the bottles and disappear into the crowd.
I motion for Ava to hop up on one of the torn leather stools. I do the same next to her.
“Who might this pretty lady be?” Wiley skims a hand over his messy hair.
“London,” I introduce her. “London, this is Wiley.”
“London?” Wiley takes a step back, rubbing his palms over his bright blue apron. “Am I right in assuming you’re a princess?”
Ava laughs. “I’m not, but I was born there and raised here.”
“The best of both worlds.” Wiley winks at her. “What can I get for you, London? You game to try my London Fog?”
“I’m game to try anything.” She smiles. “Harry will try one too.”
“Harry?” Wiley laughs. “This pretty miss calls you Harry?”
I nod, waving a finger at him to toss him a light-hearted warning. “That doesn’t give you permission to do the same.”
His hands leap up as if he’s surrendering. “Heard and understood, Mr. Keene. Heard and understood.”
We laugh in unison because he’s never called me that.
“I’ll get started on those drinks.” He smacks his palm on the edge of the bar as he looks at Ava. “This is the first time he’s brought someone in with him, London. Someone who isn’t a Buck Boy that is.”
Her hands leap to the middle of her chest. “I’m honored.”
“You should be.” Wiley casts a gaze in my direction. “I think it’s a reason to celebrate, so the first round is on me.”
“I like him.” Ava’s smile beams as we exit the bar two hours later.
One gin-spiked London Fog turned into another. Ava polished off both, but I barely took one sip of the second drink that Wiley placed in front of me.
I watch my alcohol intake because I can’t be nursing a hangover.
I don’t work a typical nine-to-five job. Issues erupt at all hours of the day and night, and if I’m dragging my ass because I overindulged in anything, it steals away my ability to be at my best.
“You like Wiley?” I question even though I know the answer to the question.
“Very much,” she affirms with a brisk nod. “He’s nice, funny, and he makes killer drinks. Who knew a London Fog could taste like that?”
“He’s taken,” I deadpan. “He’s married, Ava.”
“Oh shit,” she plays along by dipping her full lips into a frown. “I thought that was the beginning of something really special.”
Laughing, I motion to the right. “Are you feeling up to walking home, or should I order a rideshare?”
She sprints down the sidewalk, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Does this answer your question?”
I take off after her, and within ten seconds, I’ve not only caught up to her, but I’ve passed her.
“Wait!” she calls out. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
That sends me back toward her in record time. When I reach her, she’s leaning against the base of a street light with her right knee bent, so her foot is dangling in the air. I can’t say I’m surprised she’s hurt. Running in three inch heels can’t be easy.
I drop to one knee to survey the damage. “Let me see.”
Just as I’m about to circle her ankle with my hand, she’s off again. A chorus of giggles fills the air.
“I tricked you!” she yells. “You can’t beat me in a foot race, Harry.”
I’m back on the hunt to catch up to her. I don’t need to run at full speed to do that. A quick walk does the trick.
As soon as I’m behind her, I wrap my hands around her waist.
She freezes in place, her hands falling to cover mine. She holds them there, resting against the softness of her sweater as she lets out tiny exhales.
“You caught me,” she whispers.
I spin her around quickly, my hands dropping back to her waist when she’s facing me.
I stare into her blue eyes. “I caught you.”
Her right hand jumps to rest in the middle of my chest. “Is your heart beating as fast as mine?”
I nod. “It is.”
“Because we were running, or…”
“Or?” I cock a brow. “Or what?”
She trails her gaze over my face before it settles on my lips. “Or is it something else?”
I feel like I’m trespassing. I’m inching into an area I have no right to be, but I won’t back down. I can’t back down. “It’s something else, Ava.”
The tip of her tongue darts out to slick her bottom lip. “Is it from thinking about kissing?”
“Yes,” I admit because if I’m being honest, my pulse always quickens when I’m around her.
I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve imagined kissing her, taking her to bed, fucking her sweet body.
She takes a half step closer to me. “Just to clarify, my heart is beating fast because I’m thinking about kissing you. Not Wiley.”
She’s slightly drunk and completely adorable.
“I know,” I tell her as I squeeze her waist.
She nods softly. “Is your heart beating fast because you’re thinking about kissing me?”
I know it’s wrong. I know she’s off-limits in countless ways and it can never go beyond this, but I let my need for her answer the question.
My hands jump to her face. I cradle it there and stare into her eyes, looking for the same desire I have felt every second of every day since I saw her in the elevator.
Then, I do what I’ve been craving all night. I press my lips to hers for a kiss I’ll never forget.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Ava
Small whimpers flow out of me because the kiss is that damn good.
I lose myself not only to the feeling of his lips on mine but the way he tastes and the spark that races through me when his tongue edges over mine.
I could come from this.
I could come from the way this man is kissing me.
When he pulls back, I whimper again, but this time, it’s from a feeling of loss.
“Ava,” he says my name in a breathless rush. “What the fuck?”
I smile against his mouth. “What the fuck is right.”
He hisses in a breath. “That was something.”
“It was,” I agree, wishing he’d kiss me again.
It’s all I want at this moment.
But it’s not what he wants. “I’m sorry, Ava.”
That sends me back a step so I can look into his eyes. “You’re sorry? For what?”
His right hand jumps to his hair to rake through it. “That. This. What I feel.”
My heart does a little flip in my chest at that last admission. “What do you feel?”
He drops his gaze down, and mine trails behind, stopping at the noticeable bulge in his pants. He lets out a heavy exhale. “I’m sorry.”
My heart takes it to another level when I feel as though it’s about to break through my chest wall. He wants me just as much as I want him. That’s blatantly obvious.
“Please, stop saying sorry,” I whisper. Trying to catch my breath, I go on, “I wanted to kiss you, Harry. I want…”