“No.”
“Do it! You’re almost thirty. You’ve never had a long-term relationship. Shoot, I don’t even think you’ve ever had a hookup.”
“I’m not a virgin,” I scoffed.
“There was what’s-his-face in college; you dated him for like three days. After that, you have never brought anyone else around,” Amy stated.
“Around where?” I gestured. “We don’t even have an office. Not only that, but none of us lives in a place big enough to comfortably hold a meeting.”
“We could meet in my garden.”
“It’s cold in the garden, and one of us would have to stand in the pond.”
“See? That’s my point. You deserve a little fun. You don’t have to marry the guy. But seriously, I bet Evan’s good in bed. Not to mention, he might toss a couple of nice gifts on the bed after he fucks your brains out. Then, when he’s run his course, you can ghost him and live out the rest of your lonely life with a bunch of feral cats and reminisce about the time you slept with a billionaire.”
* * *
As much asI kind of sort of did want tomaybesee where things went with Evan, the issue was that I didn’t want to end up like my mother. As she continuously reminded me, she had hooked up with the wrong guy, ended up pregnant at thirteen, and had me. Then she sacrificed her future to make sure I had a halfway decent life, all so she could suck the yolk out of whatever nest egg I tried to build.
“I hate my life,” I muttered as I climbed the stairs to my condo. I had another meeting scheduled with Imogen the next day about the gift bags for the guests, and I needed to read through the dissertation she had just emailed me on which of her friends had what at their weddings and the list of must-haves and absolutely-nots in the gift bags.
“Your life can’t be that bad!” Mrs. Russo called out to me in excitement from her doorway. “Not when you have a good-looking guy waiting for you. And he brought you gifts!”
The good-looking guy in question winked at me as Fergus wound his round body around Evan’s legs.
“I brought one for you too,” Evan said in that deep purr that rumbled around the hallway. Mrs. Russo fanned herself. Evan took one step across the hall with his long legs and flourished a bouquet, handing it to Mrs. Russo.
“Oh, Ivy, he brought flowers! What a gentleman! You are welcome to come by anytime, young man. I make amazing rugelach.” The senior citizen patted Evan’s biceps. “I’ll let you two young things get on with your evening!” She winked at me and flashed me a thumbs-up.
I glared at Evan once Mrs. Russo was safely inside her apartment.
“What?” He shrugged. “She was kind enough to let Fergus out.” He tried to move past me into the condo, but I blocked the door and crossed my arms. Evan gestured to the door. “Do you mind? My favorite cat in the entire world wants to cuddle on your bed.”
“There will be no cuddling. And you can’t just show up unannounced.”
“Let me in. I have to show you what I brought you.”
“I’m not letting you inside,” I argued. All the while, my libido had just woken up and was tugging at the knots in her hair and demanding breakfast of the male variety.
“I’m not a stranger,” he said, giving Fergus a kiss on his head. “I’m a nice man who is beloved by animals.”
“You’re anything but nice.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I am a bit of a bad boy.” He grinned dangerously and leaned toward me. “I could show you how bad,” he said, lowering his voice and growling in my ear. “Though we’d have to put Fergus somewhere else. I don’t want you to scare him when you scream when I make you come.”
I stepped back and gaped at him.
“Ha ha! Made you let me into your apartment!” He rushed by me and flopped on the bed, holding Fergus above his head and telling him he was a good cat, yes, such a good cat! Yes, he was.
I was still standing, dumbfounded, in the doorway.
“Never in a million years would I have sex with you, Evan Harrington.”
“Never ever?” he said.
“No,” I said crossly.
“Oh, right, because I’m not Chris Evans? I’m surprised he’s not on your mood board.”
