“Does it matter?” She’s looking out the window, her profile lit by the dashboard lights. “Believing we’re a newly smitten couple might make you more human to them. Human is good, Jeremy.”
It matters because I want it to be true even if I have no right to anything where Avah is concerned. She’s barely out of an abusive relationship and rebuilding her entire life from the ground up. Thelast thing she needs is another man with expectations and demands.
That doesn’t stop my selfish desire.
“I guess I can work on the human part after I download my most recent system update.”
She laughs, then closes her eyes. The silence is surprisingly comfortable, and after a few minutes, I realize she’s fallen asleep. I keep our speed steady and my eyes on the road, but steal glances at her as often as I can. Long lashes fan against her cheeks, and those rosebud lips part softly. Driving home with her asleep next to me feels like its own form of trust, and I don’t want this night to end.
Far too soon, I ease the Range Rover to a stop in front of The Sugar Shack and reach over to touch her shoulder.
“Avah. We’re here.”
She blinks awake, and for a moment, her eyes are soft and open before she remembers herself. “Shit.” She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. Even seeing her drool is adorable. “Now I’m not going to be able to fall asleep.”
“I can think of things to do that aren’t sleep.” Her eyes widen, and I hold up my hands. “Sorry. Not trying to be a dick. You did me a solid tonight, and we’re even.”
She holds my gaze in the dim light of the car. The air pulses with every touch we’re not allowing ourselves, and I know the rapid rise and fall of her chest mimics my own.
“Come upstairs.”
My heart seems to stop for a split second before pounding back to life.
“Are you sure?”
She shakes her head, a small smile playing at her lips. “Fair warning. The apartment is nothing like what you’re used to. The mattress is probably older than me. And?—”
“I don’t give a fuck about the mattress.”
I lean across the console and press my mouth right below her ear, where her pulse is hammering. I’m not going to break her nokissing on the mouth rule in the front seat of a car, no matter how badly I want to. But when she exhales a shaky breath and tilts her head to give me better access, I drag my lips down the column of her throat, losing myself in the taste of her skin.
Her eyes are dazed when I finally pull back, her fingers still twisted in my shirtfront like she’s forgotten that they’re there.
“Maybe you should park around back.” She gestures down the street toward Cover to Cover, her voice trembling slightly. “Just in case Sloane looks out her window.”
She’s protecting herself and me, so I tamp down the disappointment pinging through me before it can take root. This is a small town, and neither of us needs more complications.
I pull away from the curb. “For the record, I’d park in the next county and hike all the way back.”
Her laugh makes me want to say increasingly stupid things just to hear it again. “That won’t be necessary.”
I park in the narrow alley, and by the time I make my way around the front of the vehicle, she’s already waiting by the base of the stairs, keys in hand as the moonlight catches the half-smile she’s trying to suppress. The air is cool, and a dog barks in the distance. It’s an ordinary evening in a small town, except nothing about the way she’s looking at me feels ordinary at all. It feels like a moment I’m never going to forget.
18
AVAH
The stairs creakunder our feet as I lead Jeremy up to my apartment, and I’m suddenly acutely aware of the overwhelming smallness of the life I’m building from scratch.
My hand tightens around his, and I pause in front of the door, heart fluttering in my throat. “This is not what you’re used to.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.” I jiggle the key in the lock that sticks like it moonlights as a security system. “We’re going from your five-star villa to a space where I wake up every morning to the hot water heater deciding whether to call it quits.”
Jeremy’s thumb traces a slow circle on the inside of my wrist, which sends my pulse into overdrive. “I don’t care about your hot water heater.”
“You haven’t tried to take a shower here yet.”
