“They really go all out, huh?” Will asked.
“It’s like a set. They need to make it look like a place our viewers want to be.” Aly rolled her eyes. “Christmas magic and all. Anything tempting you?” Aly waved a hand around the many stations of food.
Will leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. “Yes. For weeks she’s been temping me. I’m really hoping to wear her down tonight.”
She shivered. But Will simply pulled back and smirked. Through cocktail hour and small talk, he continued to torture her. His hand never left her—her shoulder, her hip. He was never more than a breath away, and he wasn’t bothered by the cameras, though multiple dotted the room.
“Dance with me,” he demanded. And as he wrapped an arm around her, tucking her close, the woodsy cedar of his scent filled her nose.
She leaned close and took another breath. That alone was a drug to her system.
“This entire night has been slow torture.” With two fingers under her chin, he tilted her face toward his. The deep need in his eyes penetrated as he fixated on her lips. Over his shoulder, she could see that all four cameras had turned to focus on them. And although they didn’t typically bother her, she didn’t want this spun for ratings. If he kissed her here, it would be fodder for the show.
“No,” she whispered and pulled away.
“Aly?” He frowned, his brows pulled together, likely having forgotten about the cameras.
She calmly stepped out of his arms and turned. With Will hot on her heels, she made her way toward the hall. There weren’t too many options: bathrooms to the right or a dark coat room to their left. A woman had been taking coats as they came in, but now the space was unoccupied, giving them a quiet refuge among the rows lined with jackets and coats.
“Aly.” Will’s tone was sharp as he followed into the dark and kicked the door shut behind him.
The soft light from the window three rows away illuminated the top of his face, highlighting the confusion in his eyes.
“Should I apologize?” he asked, his brows still furrowed. “I thought”—he shook his head—“it doesn’t matter what I thought. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
The set of his jaw indicated frustration, maybe even anger, and yet his brown eyes were pleading for forgiveness. His vulnerability shone, despite his tense shoulders and clenched hands. As always, he was putting himself out there.
Aly dipped her chin and murmured, “I wanted you to kiss me.”
He sucked in a breath. “But?” Those dark brown eyes roved over her face, searching for answers.
“We’re surrounded by the cast and crew and cameras. And even if we weren’t, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
The answer to that was easy. “Andy.”
“Yeah.” He pushed his large hands through his dark hair. “People keep telling me that. I need to keep my hands off you because of Andy.”
It surprised her. Not that people agreed with the statement, but that he was talking about wanting her.
“They all know it. You’re all I see anymore, and my family can’t stop themselves from butting in. That’s what they do.” It was a statement he made easily, and yet it caused her heart to skip a beat. Especially when he moved closer and pulled her against his chest. His long arms draped over her shoulder, and he rested his chin against her hair.
She was suddenly wrapped back up in the heat that was Will Evans. His rapidly pounding heart beat a rhythm against her as the baritone of his voice vibrated deep.
“The thing is, I’m not a hookup guy. I never have been. We’re friends, but I know there’s more than that. I see it as a beginning, and I can’t figure out how that’s bad for Andy.”
“I’m not sure I’m a relationship girl,” she said honestly. Her mother had never been able to stick to one, and they were alike in so many ways. She wasn’t a caretaker. She wasn’t good at parenting Andy. And nothing about running a home the efficient way Will did came naturally to her. Aly was a mess.
His hands froze in their motion up and down her back as he tensed. “Yet I don’t believe you’re a hit-it-and-quit-it type. So are you telling me you’re—” He paused. He wasn’t uncomfortable—Will was rarely uncomfortable—but it was like he was trying to find the right words. “That you’ve never been with a guy?”
That was an absurd question, but she held in her scoff. She wouldn’t hurt his feelings when he was trying so hard to tread carefully around hers. “No, it’s just been a long time.”
He relaxed against her. “Why?” Again, he demanded openness from her.
“I’m busy?” The response wasn’t believable, even to her, but it might be true.
He pulled back and tipped her face up to his again, those deep brown eyes searching. “You can lie to me, but only as long as we both know it’s a lie. Don’t lie to me when I think it’s the truth, okay?”