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“You took off like a rocket to check on her a bit ago. Did she get into it with what’s his name again?”
“Russ,” I say in an even tone while I weigh telling him that there’s a woman I want desperately to fuck in my bed right now.
“Right.” He nods. “Ross.”
“Russ,” I correct him even though it doesn’t fucking matter because Jos will hopefully dump the guy before the month is over.
Sean’s gaze trails to the clutch purse again. “Our sisters would hit it off, Harry. Ava has a clutch just like that, or it’s damn similar. She had it with her at the restaurant tonight.”
A pit forms in my stomach, so I try and chase it away with an innocent question because there’s no way in hell that the woman in my bed is my best friend’s sister.
“Where is Ava studying again?” I furrow my brow. “It was in Paris, right?”
He downs what’s left in his bottle of beer. It feels as though it takes forever for him to swallow. “No. London.”
“London,” I repeat.
This is not fucking happening right now.
“She always says her heart belongs there because she was born there.” He smiles. “She doesn’t get that she was a month early and my mom was on a vacation she never should have been on.”
What the hell?
“She wears this bracelet.” Sean twists his left wrist in the air. “It’s packed with charms that are related to London. I’m shocked that she tore herself away from there to make the trip here for her birthday.”
Sweat peppers my brow because this is all adding up to a goddamn disaster.
I glance toward the staircase. It makes perfect sense why she bolted when Sean showed up.
If he hadn’t, I would have taken her to bed, and…
“You won’t believe how much she’s changed, Harry.” He yanks his phone out of the front pocket of his jeans. “I took a picture of us together earlier at dinner. The braces on her teeth are a thing of the past and her hair is longer. She had Lasik eye surgery a few years ago, too, so no more glasses for her.”
I look even though I already know what I’ll see.
Sitting next to my best friend in what looks like a restaurant is the beautiful woman who is currently in my bed.
Fuck my life.
CHAPTER TEN
Ava
I wake with a start, my eyelids popping open to reveal a room I’m unfamiliar with.
Instant panic sets in.
I glance to the left and a bank of windows covered by dark blinds. The only light in this large, masculine bedroom is coming from a lamp on the nightstand.
As soon as I look to my right, my breath stutters because shit, just shit.
Harrison Keene is sitting in a leather armchair in the corner. The tie he was wearing at the bar is gone, but the rest of his attire is the same, except his shirtsleeves are now rolled up to his elbows.
His eyes don’t leave me as he tilts his chin up. “Good morning.”
“Morning?” I glance down to see that I’m still wearing the same red dress I was last night.
My shoes are gone, but they can’t be far from where I am. I know I had them on when I sat on the edge of his bed to debate whether or not I should go downstairs since my brother was there.
Why the hell did Sean have to show up at the worst possible time?
Harrison drops his gaze to the watch on his wrist. “It’s just past six.”
“Dammit.” I slide my ass to the side of the bed, being mindful of keeping everything covered with the blanket because silk is a bitch when you’re trying to get out of bed while looking graceful.
“Where are you going?” Harrison asks with a lazy ease that suggests he thinks I want to hang around.
I want out of here right fucking now because coming here in the first place was a mistake of epic proportions.
I don’t belong here.
I move to stand while still clinging to the blanket. I sneak a peek at the front of my dress, and even in the dim light in this room, I can tell that it’s stained from the scotch.
“To my brother’s apartment.” I run my fingers through my tangled hair. “He must be worried since I never made it home last night.”
I glance around the room in search of my clutch purse.
Harry reads my mind because his index finger points toward the nightstand on the right side of the bed. “Your purse is there. I believe your phone is in it. It’s been chiming all night.”
I round the bed in a rush, dropping the blanket to the floor. “All night? How do you know that? How long have you been sitting in that chair?”
I fumble with my clutch to open it and yank out my phone. I skim the screen looking for anything from Declan. Most of the alerts are social media notifications from friends about my birthday. I find only one text message from Declan sent right before midnight telling me he was going to bed and wouldn’t wake me in the morning so I could sleep in.
