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“Noodles? Tell me you’re thinking about spaghetti right now.”
I burst with laughter, shaking against him. “My legs are noodles,” I manage. But spaghetti doesn’t sound too bad right now.
“Ah. Well, that makes more sense.”
My eyes are closed so I can’t see what he’s doing when I feel him moving beneath me, but he must have pressed the emergency stop button again, because the elevator whirrs to life. It dings and stops five seconds later, a sign that I’ve finally reached my destination after all this time. Now I just need to remember how to walk.
But I don’t have to. In one swift sweep, Avery’s on his feet with me in his arms like I weigh nothing. Stupid, infuriating, strong, muscly man.
I crack one sleepy, spent eyelid. “What you doin’?” My voice is all heavy and lazy, thick and drowsy with the most insane orgasm I’ve ever had.
His smile is boyishly cute, all sweet and gentle. Or maybe I’m just too out of my mind right now. He presses the softest kiss to my lips and I moan at the taste of me on him, still lingering there. “Taking you to bed, noodle legs.”
“That’s Miss Noodle Legs to you,” I whisper-sigh, shoving my finger into his chest. It’s weak, and I wind up wrapping my arm around his neck, burying my face in his warmth. “No sexing.”
“I knooow,” he groans, digging my keys out of my purse.
I expect Avery to set me down in the doorway, but he doesn’t. He flips one light on and heads down the only hallway, finding my bedroom in no time at all. I can imagine that my measly six-hundred-and-fifty square foot condo is embarrassingly tiny compared to his top floor penthouse suite. I don’t even want to know the difference in square footage.
He pulls back the covers and drops me gently on the bed. Holding the sheet up and blocking me from his view, he orders, “Dress—off.”
It’s not easy, but I comply, wiggling out of my dress with a lot more grunts and groans than should ever be necessary when simply pulling a garment over your head.
“You just tongue-fucked me straight to heaven in the elevator and now you’re being a gentleman?” I toss my dress across the room and he lowers the covers, tucking me in. God, he’s cute. Why is he being so cute?
“I’ll put in the work to see this flawless body totally naked, Claire.”
I’m having too much of an out-of-body experience right now to process that comment and wonder why he doesn’t just move on to the next girl who’s willing to give it up.
I turn over on my stomach, arms sliding under my pillow as I snuggle into the cool sheets. “’Kay. I’m going back to hating you in the morning,” I say, all hush-hush.
Avery chuckles and brushes my hair off my cheek, pushing it over my back. His fingers trail along my shoulder blades and down my spine, making me quiver. “You don’t hate me,” he murmurs.
“No.” I breathe out the biggest sigh. “Not even close.”
And then I’m out. Like a light.
I don’t wake up until lunchtime on Sunday, and when I do, there’s a melted but still cool iced coffee sitting on my kitchen island, along with my key, two Advil, and a note telling me to call Avery if my noodle legs still don’t want to work.
Nothing is clear to me, except for the notion that I am absolutely done for.
***
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Avery
I meant to leave right away last night, or rather, in the small hours this morning. I meant to just make sure she got inside her door alright. But Claire was so tired, so I carried her to bed.
And then I’d really meant to leave, just as soon as she was tucked in.
But she passed out in ten seconds flat after admitting how much she didn’t hate me, and the way the moonlight streamed through her window, casting a soft glow on her face and across her milky skin, the curve of her spine…I just had to stop and stare for a minute or two longer.
Then I meant to slip her key under the crack in her door after locking it on my way out. But it was tight. It wouldn’t fit, not easily, at least. So I tucked her key into my pocket with the silent promise to knock on her door in the morning and hand it back to her.
Sully and I went for a walk later in the morning and stopped for coffees on the way home. With my dog by my side, I knocked on Claire’s door, hoping to not only see her, but maybe spend some time with her, but there was no answer.
I unlocked her door and popped my head in, and Sully sniffed his way straight to her bedroom, where she was still passed out face first in her pillow. I nearly checked to make sure she was breathing, but then she let out a moan and curled into herself, her bare legs kicking out from the light gray sheets. Sully’s tongue went straight for her feet, so I had to get the hell out of there, leaving her iced coffee, key, and a quick note on her counter.
