Mark purses his lips and looks like he’s about to argue, but I bolt for the spare room before he gets a chance. I quickly gather my things. When I emerge, he’s standing in the same spot.
I start to turn the handle on the front door, but turn back to thank him one more time for being so kind and chivalrous. Except he grabs my arm and spins me into him. His mouth captures mine, and I melt against him. It’s the same level of passion we always have, but it somehow feels different. There’s no anger or fighting for dominance. It’s thorough and filled with the promise of more later on.
He pulls back finally, leaning his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard. “Best get home, little viper. We’ll finish this conversation later.”
Dazed, Inod and head out of his apartment, fingers pressed against my lips.
What the hell just happened?
Chapter Fourteen
Mark
I’m in an excellent mood. Ava hadn’t bolted like I expected her to. She’d clearly wanted to; I could see it in the coiled tension in her body. Yet she’d stayed and eaten breakfast with me, like we were two normal adults. I’d even seen some cracks in her armor.
And god, that kiss before she’d left. My pulse skips just thinking about it. I can practically still taste her on my lips. She’d melted into me, and it had taken every ounce of self-control I possessed to push away.
For the first time in too damn long, I feel hopeful. So, I don’t want to push her too hard. Overplay my hand, if you will. I’m going to give her some space, not text her today, and possibly not tomorrow. I’ll talk to her on Monday at court. Maybe I can take her to lunch.
Satisfied with my plan, I open my phone intending to text Adam, my best friend. He’s a reporter that works on a lot of criminal cases, and we’d become close when I first moved to the city and started in the DA’s office.
Notifications from the dating app pop up first, and I sigh. Right. Marnie. I should tell her I’m not going to pursue anything with her. Whatever this thing with Ava is, it’s too complicated to drag anyone else into.
Before I get a chance, my phone rings, and Adam’s contact picture—an obscene close-up of his nostrils—flashes across my screen as if I’d summoned him.
“How did you know I was thinking of you?” I ask with a grin.
“Bro, I hate to break it to you this way, but I don’t think of you like that,” he quips dryly.
I roll my eyes. “What do you want?”
“I’m bored as hell,” he says, “and since you don’t have a life, I figured you are too.”
“Excuse you. I have a life,” I say, balancing my phone between my jaw and shoulder as I let myself into the guest room and lie on the bed. Ava’s scent, stronger than normal, surrounds me, and I have the strongest urge to roll around in it. “I just… don’t have anything going on at the moment,” I add.
He snorts. “When’s the last time you got laid? I never see you out with anyone.”
“First of all, you can have a life without copious amounts of random sex. Secondly, you don’t have to go out to get laid. I promise, I do just fine,” I say smugly. “So did you just call to talk shit, or did you actually want something?”
“There’s an ice hockey pick-up league this afternoon at Chelsea Piers Sky Rink. It’s a no-commitment thing. Thought it might be fun.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, debating. “I don’t have any gear.”
“They rent gear. Quit being a crybaby. What the hell else are you doing?”
I hesitate, which is basically admitting he’s right. Ava almost certainly won’t reach out today, and I promised myself I wouldn’t either. Which leaves a whole lot of nothing other than work. “All right, fine, I’m in. What time?”
He makes an excited whoop. “Hell yeah. 4:00 p.m. But don’t embarrass me out there, tiger.”
I scoff. “Of the two of us, methinks the guy with the bum knee should probably watch his fucking mouth.”
Adam just laughs and, in his typical fashion, hangs up without saying goodbye.
The lobby of the rink is decorated in so much Americana theming, it almost hurts to look at. The walls are covered in horizontal pinstripes of red and white, while the floors and ceilings aredone in a deep blue. I spot Adam near the concession stand, studying the glass case of pastries, candies, and bottled drinks. Grinning, I slide up beside him.
“I feel like stuffing your mouth full of carbs before ice skating is not the vibe,” I say. “What if you barf?”
He laughs and elbows me in the side. “Shut up. I’m getting water.”
