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“That’s really tough, Claire,” I whisper into her hair. “He sounds like a fighter. Strong just like you and your brother.”
“He is. The cancer doesn’t bother him all that much. Losing my mom is what crushed him. But Vivi…she helped. I think she helped us all, really.”
“She’s one amazing, wild little girl. She can make anyone’s day brighter.”
“You really like her,” Claire observes slowly.
“That’s putting it lightly.” That tiny spitfire owns a chunk of my heart.
Claire declines dessert, telling me she feels like she’s popping out of her dress, and we ride back to the condo together in a comfortable silence, her hand tucked into mine.
In the elevator, my gaze never leaves her reflection. She keeps giving me the eyes, glancing up at me, biting her lip, and then looking away. She tries to say goodbye to me from the elevator, but I drag her down the hallway toward her door, brushing off her weak attempt.
“Whether you agree or not, this was a date, and I’m walking you to your door and kissing you goodnight.”
And I do just that, pulling her into me by her hips, brushing my lips softly against hers at first, before I coax her mouth open, slipping my tongue inside. She sighs against me, and when she rakes her fingers through my hair, a shiver rolls down my spine.
I pull back and kiss her once, twice, three times on the lips. “Goodnight Claire.”
She opens her door and slips inside, peering up at me from beneath her thick lashes, one dimple popping with her sweet, lopsided smile. “Thank you for dinner. I’m happy you were bossy tonight.” Pressing up on her toes, she touches her lips to mine. “Goodnight Avery.”
I watch her nose twitch with her bright-as-hell grin as the door closes, slow as fucking molasses, like she doesn’t want to say goodnight yet.
And what the fuck am I doing? I don’t want to say goodnight yet.
She’s happy I was bossy tonight? Well, she’s about to see a whole new level of bossy.
***
CHAPTER THIRTY
Claire
He’s not asking to stay. He’s not asking to come in. He’s just…leaving. He’s watching me shut the door in his face, and he’s doing it with the goofiest grin on his handsome-as-sin face.
But it’s the last thing I want to do. I don’t want to say goodnight.
With a quiet, barely-there sigh, I push the door the rest of the way closed.
At least I almost do.
Until an arm shoots forward, shoving the door open, and Avery pushes his way inside.
He doesn’t just come in. He pulls off his suit jacket and tosses it across the room to my kitchen island. He starts loosening his tie, stalking toward me while I stumble backwards, my anxious hand at my throat, feeling the wild thrum of my pulse. His once goofy grin is now a dangerous mix of dark and devilish, playful and needy, his wicked espresso drowning with desire.
“See, the thing is, Claire, I don’t wanna say goodnight right now.”
He whips off his tie and drops it to the floor. His fingers start working the buttons on his shirt and I watch, absolutely riveted, as each tug reveals a little more of his golden skin, the light smattering of chest hair, the hard lines of his collarbone, his glorious pecs. He keeps moving toward me, and I keep backing up. His eyes follow my every move, white teeth pressing into his full bottom lip when he flashes that sexy smirk.
“Y-y-you don’t?” I sputter.
“No. Not at all.”
“What do you wanna do?” It’s a stupid question. I know what he wants to do. The same thing I want to do.
His smirk grows more wicked by the second. He clicks his tongue with the tilt of his head. “You know exactly what I wanna do.”
“Me?” Feeling bold, even though I stammered the damn two-letter word.
