But I’d be lying if I said I felt nothing.
I felt something before. I felt something during.
And I certainly felt something now.
“I’m a professional napper. I just need enough space where I can curl into a ball with a set of earbuds, and I can fall asleep anywhere.” Although I was staying still, his lips were getting so close to mine. “After an hour and a shot or two of espresso, I’ll be good to go.”
“That makes me feel a little better about keeping you here so late.”
I attempted a smile even though the placement of his hands was making that hard. “Do you really feel bad about it?”
His grip lowered to my ass, squeezing my cheeks.
For someone who wanted nothing, he sure was grabbing everything.
And, oh God, I liked it.
“Not even a little.” He moved in closer, and I swore there were only hairs between us. “Kiss me, Emily.”
Reluctantly, I left his abs and circled my arms around his neck, my forearms grazing the tops of his shoulders, my hands clasping behind his neck. I was sure he thought I was getting in a position to give him what he asked for. Really, I was just delaying things, making him wantmy mouth even more. Which I did again as I dove into his hair, holding the longer strands the same way I had when he’d been eating me out in the shower. And instead of leaning my face in to his, I moved back, scanning his eyes.
Right to left, left to right.
With each second that passed, he clenched me tighter, and eventually, when I could feel his hard-on through the sweatpants, pressing against my stomach, I caved.
But what I got was far more than a kiss.
It was an answer.
This man wanted me. There was no question about it.
When I felt like I’d given him enough, I wiggled out of his hold and pulled our mouths apart. As I was dragging my arms away, I stopped on his face, cupping it, giving him the briefest of grins before I fully separated us. “Your driver is downstairs? In front of your building?”
He nodded.
I pointed toward the living room. “I’m going to grab my bag.” I felt his eyes on me as I turned my back to him, and I made my way over to the couch. The bag was on the floor, the same place I’d left it when I’d been treating Ben. I placed the strap over my shoulder and gave Gavin a quick glance. “See you around.” I followed that up with a smile, and I headed for the elevator.
“Long night?” Maya asked, standing in front of the nurses’ station while I sat behind the desk, on the computer, yawning, doing everything I could to keep my eyes open. Neither the nap nor the damn espresso had worked. “Girl, you have bags under your eyes.” She was in the process of putting her long coffee-colored hair into a high ponytail.
I wiped the bottom of my eyelids as though that would make the bags disappear. “I didn’t get much sleep.”
“You didn’t text me when you got home. I woke up this morning, checked my messages, and panicked. So I immediately tracked your location.”
Shit.
I’d completely forgotten. But I couldn’t exactly text her at four-something in the morning. All that would do was trigger her to ask questions.
Questions I wanted to avoid since I wasn’t sure I was going to tell her about my evening with Gavin.
But then another thought hit me. My best friend was a runner. Whether she stayed at our apartment or Jordan’s, she got up long before the sun rose and put in multiple miles, so her wake-up time varied based on when she went to sleep.
When she’d checked on me, had I been on my way home? At home? Or at Gavin’s?
I needed to proceed with caution.
“Were you relieved when you saw I was at the apartment?” I held my breath as I waited for her response.
“Big-time.” She leaned over the top of the desk and pulled a strand of hair off my lip. “I swear, you need a bodyguard or something. Being on call, so late, I don’t like it. I worry about you.”
