“Friends,” Connor’s voice cut me off, and I jolted in my chair. I spun around slowly, my eyes trailing up and up until they locked on Connor’s. He stood there, on the eighth floor of the Seattle Chronicle, looking sexy as hell in a pair of dark jeans and a tight collared tee, two cups of coffee in his hands.
He held one out to me, his eyes timid like I might snatch it and throw it in his face. “Hi, Zach,” he said over my shoulder, offering a small nod to my photographer who seemed shocked that he remembered his name. “Can we talk?” He asked me.
I swallowed around the rock in my throat and nodded as I stood up. I took the offered coffee and walked toward our vacant break room. Closing the door behind us, I sipped the coffee, and it was an effort not to moan.
“Peppermint mocha?” The declaration came out a question.
“It’s your favorite, right?” He asked and actually looked worried about my answer. “You ordered it after practice that one time before we took Hannah to the park.”
My brows raised, shocked he’d remembered.
“Yes,” I finally said. “It’s my favorite. Thank you.” I took another sip.
Silence filled the space between us as I hovered near the door and he paced near the small round table we used for lunches and late-night dinners.
“So…” I said, knowing I needed to do what Pepper had said. Talk to him. Be bold and not beat around the bush. “About last night—”
“I’m really sorry,” he hurried to say over me, and I clamped my lips shut. He spanned the distance between us, stopping an arms-length away. “I…God, I wasn’t trying to be a dick.”
I tilted my head.
“I shouldn’t have…forced that on you.”
The way he said the word forced made the panic in his eyes make sense.
Damn, he really was perfect.
“Oh, Connor, no,” I said, shaking my head. “You didn’t do anything to me I didn’t want—”
“But I didn’t ask. I should have. I was just so caught up in you and then it was happening and…” he wetted his lips like he could still taste me there, and heat pooled in my core. “I came here to apologize. For being a dick.”
“You weren’t,” I said. “I wanted it. Wanted you.” I shrugged. “You read the room correctly.” I chuckled nervously. “Nothing forced. Me running off...that was all about me. Everything I said after...my issues. You are not a dick.” I smirked. “Well, not in that instance, anyway.”
He laughed, and it helped break up the tension in my chest.
“So, we’re good?”
“Totally.”
But where do we stand?
All I had to do was ask. He was standing right here with coffee olive branches and brutal honesty. I’d never had that with anyone other than Pepper.
Connor’s broad shoulders loosened a fraction, and he released a tight breath. Another flash of mischief crackled in his eyes and he returned my earlier smirk. “I’ll wait for you to ask me to, next time.”
A thrill fluttered the length of my center and I found myself half-hiccupping half-laughing.
Mortifying.
Perfect.
God, I’d never been so nervous around a man in my life.
What was it about Connor that could set my skin of fire, make me furious, and yet shift everything to its proper place inside me at the same time?
“That funny?” he asked, taking another step toward me.
“Yes,” I said, breathless as I backed up until my spine brushed the closed door.
“Why?” he stood so close his scent filled my air, damn near intoxicating with how my head spun.
“Wouldn’t hold your breath,” I said, but it came out a whisper.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, his eyes trailing to my lips and back up to my eyes. “But, if the time comes, you just let me know what I can…do for you.”
My mind raced in time with my heart, my blood pumping hot and fast in my veins.
Then a smile stretched my lips.
“Actually,” I said. “There is something you can do for me.”
His chest rose and fell a little faster, and I relished the effect I had on him. At least I wasn’t the only one practically panting from the sparks flying between us.
“Take me somewhere?” I teased.
“Anywhere.”
My eyes widened at his instant declaration.
“Who has Hannah?” I asked, my brain catching up with my heart.
He grinned. “Faith took her to a movie,” he said, shrugging. “I asked to go, too, but Hannah said it was a girl’s only movie.”
I chuckled.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Club Thirty-Five.” I grinned. “The VIP lounge.”
His shoulders dropped a fraction, but he nodded as he motioned toward the door at my back. “After you.”
I held his intense gaze for a few moments longer, wanting to swim in the heat pooling from those eyes. Hot damn, I thought I was torturing him but he was killing me.
It was just a kiss.
But, apparently, it wasn’t enough.
And even if he dropped to his knees right now and had his way with me, I wasn’t sure it would ever be enough to satisfy the wicked craving I couldn’t slake.
Chapter 9
Connor
“She’s with me,” I said to the bouncer, grabbing Ivy’s hand and pulling her through the crowd at the door. Of all the places we could be, she chose Club 35. At least we didn’t start round two until the day after tomorrow.
“Bridgerton. Nice game last week,” the guy said with a nod. “You ready to kill it again?”
“You know it.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said, literally parting the velvet rope to let us pass after we left Zach’s name so he could get in, too. Pepper and Eric came in behind us, having joined us when Ivy swore she needed to change before coming out.
I almost wished she’d stayed in her skirt and professional blouse because that dress she’d chosen was going to be the death of me. It wasn’t even the cut, in all honesty, it was a hell of a lot more modest than what most the girls were wearing in here. The neckline cut straight across her collarbone, highlighting the delicate arch of her neck, and the sleeves came to just above her elbow. It was the hemline, midway upper thighs, that was going to give me heart palpitations. It was classy and sexy all the same time, flirtatious in the way the material hugged her curves. Basically, it was the dress version of Ivy. So naturally, I was drawn to it, just the way I was drawn to her.
I kept her hand in mine as we entered the club, skipping the dance floor, where bodies writhed to the music, the bass so heavy I felt it in my chest.
“It’s old school night,” Ivy told me as we passed the bar.
“Well, that explains the Dre,” I answered her. “Do you want to drink?” The music was so loud I was nearly yelling to be heard.
She rose up on her toes until her lips brushed my cheek. “Lemon drop martini, please.”
Every muscle in my body went rigid, and I reminded myself that I’d sworn she was going to have to ask for it the next time I put my hands on her. Hearing her admit that she wanted it just as badly as I had nearly broke my self-control at her office. It was the fact that she hadn’t told me why she’d run out that kept me in check.
“Got it,” I said, turning just slightly so my lips didn’t brush her ear.
I raised my hand, and within a few seconds, the bartender made his way to us and took our drink order. “Can you have those sent up to the VIP lounge?” I asked him after Eric added his and Pepper’s order.
“Sure thing Mr. Bridgerton,” the bartender answered as I handed him a fifty for a tip.
Ivy arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“I figured you’d want to take a loop, and see who was here before heading up to the VIP,” I told her. “Unless you have other plans?”