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Her own indiscretions with Gavin tore through her as she looked into Dillon’s brown eyes, oxygen seeming to evaporate from her lungs. The guilt thrusted itself like an ice-laden spear through her heart.

“Tell me you believe me,” he breathed out heavily, slowly kneeling as he swirled his tongue in hypnotizing circles down her stomach. He then slid her panties past her thighs. “Tell me you believe me, baby.”

She felt so torn over what she wanted to believe and what she had done with Gavin. “Yes, I believe you,” she cried. “I’m so sorry, Dillon. I’m so sorry.”

Before she knew it, he ripped the panties from her body, pulled her up off the ground, and carried her to her bed. He spread her legs, holding her in place, as his tongue laved against her painfully pleasurable spot. Her body writhed against his mouth and moved of its own accord while he gripped onto her hips, sucking, licking, and tasting her very essence.

Her muscles convulsed with both ecstasy and guilt as his fingers slid in and out of her hot warmth. Needing to rid herself of the shame she felt and wanting him inside her at that very moment, she strained up.

“Dillon, I want you now,” she moaned, sliding herself back against the pillows.

He shed the rest of his clothing, climbed into the bed, and sank himself inside her. She gripped his caging biceps, throwing her head back at the sensation of him pulsing into her hot flesh. He slammed his mouth over hers and stifled her moans as she closed her eyes. And then it happened—the visions of Gavin kissing her, the feel of his velvet tongue, the warm touch of his fingertips all over her body—her every thought was consumed by him. Dillon was on top of her, but all she could feel, touch, smell, and taste was Gavin.

Emily stopped moving beneath Dillon; her entire body froze.

“What’s wrong?” he breathed into her ear, continuing to move above her.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick.” She slid out from beneath him and rushed to the bathroom.

He let out a sigh and flipped onto his back. “What the fuck, Em?”

Shutting the door behind her, she fell to her knees in front of the toilet as hot tears welled in her eyes and nausea threatened to spill over. Placing her elbow on the seat, she buried her hands in her hair, trying to catch her breath. She sat there for a few seconds, a few minutes, maybe a few hours. She didn’t know how much time had passed when she finally stood up.

She walked over to the mirror and stared at her reflection. After throwing some water on her face, she made her way out into her room where Dillon had already fallen asleep. Quietly getting into bed with him, she curled the blankets over her body, hoping to find sleep and praying that she wasn’t heading into something she couldn’t control.

Chapter Seven

Friendly Intentions

“Miss, you never brought our appetizer.”

Without saying a word, Emily stared blankly at the woman’s face. Her scattered thoughts were obviously not where they should be.

The woman glared at Emily. “Hello? Our dinners have arrived, and you never brought out our appetizer.”

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” Emily stammered. “I’ll be right back with it.”

Rushing into the kitchen, she let the cooks know she needed an order of mozzarella sticks on the fly. She made her way back to the table, apologized again, and let them know that it would be another few minutes. Trying to recover any possible chance of a tip, Emily offered to pay for their dessert. With that, the missing appetizer became a thing of the past as the woman smiled and accepted.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Emily took a seat at the bar, thankful that they hadn’t complained…or so she thought.

“Country,” Antonio said. “What just happened? Table sixteen told me you forgot their appetizer?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. Roberto is taking care of it right now.”

“Did you offer them dessert?”

“I did.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, placing a caring hand on her shoulder. “You seem out of it tonight.”

“I just have a lot going on right now, Antonio. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“If you’re not feeling good, I can let you off early,” he replied with concern filling his face.

“Thanks, but I’m alright.”

He nodded and headed into his office.

Emily trudged through work over the next few hours. The evening passed by in a blur as she found herself still trying to grasp everything that had happened. By the time her shift was over, she felt physically and mentally drained.

With her head peering down into her purse searching for her wallet, Emily opened the door to leave, only to run smack into what felt like a brick wall. An audible “oof” broke through her lips. She snapped her head up to apologize, and then her emerald green eyes locked on to beautiful baby blues.

“Jesus, are you alright?” Gavin asked, reaching out to steady her.

Emily struggled not to gasp at the subtle contact of his warm strong fingers wrapped around her arms. Her senses were momentarily rewarded from his cologne wafting through the air around them. A flush crept over her cheeks from the spike in temperature between them, making her feel like she might burst into flames. As Gavin looked down at her, he held her gaze—a dangerous thing to do because a girl could seriously lose herself in those eyes, especially after what had happened between them. That kiss had been devastating, painful, euphoric, and everything else she had imagined it would be—all wrapped into one.

Damn that kiss.

She wondered if she would ever be able to pull herself to the surface to breathe again. Her heart fluttered frantically like a butterfly trying to escape the cage of her chest. With him standing right in front of her, it bared all sorts of things she didn’t want to think about.

“Yes, I’m alright,” she answered breathlessly, still in shock at the fact that he was there.

They both seemed to be in a trance, their stares never wavering from one another.

Gavin released her arms, cleared his throat, and backed out onto the sidewalk. His heart clenched at the sight of her. Looking into her eyes, he couldn’t believe that only a week had gone by since he had seen her beautiful face, kissed her soft lips, and touched the warmth of her skin. For him, it had felt like an eternity had passed. He hated that his subconscious mind had chosen that night, knowing how vulnerable she was, and he knew he needed to apologize.

“I stopped…” He paused trying to collect his thoughts. “I stopped by hoping to catch you here. I wanted to know if I could talk with you.”

“What’s there to talk about?” she asked, trying to hide the nervousness curling through her as she stepped out of the restaurant. Her gaze traveled away from his in an attempt to keep her mind from lingering on how sexy he looked standing there in his tailored suit and tie.

He wet his lips and stared at her a moment. “I think it’s apparent…don’t you?”

Hesitantly, she looked at him. “Yes, it is,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

Pulling in a breath, he ran his hand across the back of his neck. “I was thinking we could go grab a drink. There’s a coffee house right around the corner.”

A flicker of uncertainty passed across her face. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“I just need five minutes of your time, Molly…I mean, Emily,” he replied, sending a full-watted smile her way.

“Ha-ha,” she said dryly.

He grinned and held his hands up in mock surrender. “Just five minutes?”

She swallowed, wanting to refuse, but her efforts were futile. “Okay, but not a minute more.”

“You have my word. It’s this way,” he said, beckoning her with his head to the corner of 44th Street.

Less than a half a city block later, the two entered a quaint little coffee shop. The scent of freshly baked pastries infused the air. A few customers sat on a comfortable red couch as others browsed the Web seated at chestnut brown tables. Behind the bar, the fashionably bored barista took their order, and they retreated to a tiny table in the back of the café.

With a smile on his face, Gavin held up his wrist and set his watch. “Okay, my time begins…now.”

Emily sheepishly looked down at her hands twisting in her lap.

Gavin leaned back against his seat and crossed his arms, the smile falling from his face. “Emily, I’m sorry for what I did,” he whispered, his eyes intense. “I made an already awkward situation worse, and I feel terrible about it.”

She looked deep into his eyes, unable to believe the words that were coming from his mouth. “You don’t have to apologize to me. It was my wrong doing—not yours.”

“No, Emily, it was my fault,” he said, emphasizing each word perfectly. “It was wrong of me to take advantage of you. I leaned in to kiss you.”

“It takes two to tango.”

“Right, but—”

“I kissed you back.”

A slow smile curled his lips, his blue eyes shimmering. “So you wanted to kiss me?”

“Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“Gavin.”

“Emily.”

She sighed. “Well, what do you expect me to say?”

“I want you to say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you wanted to kiss me.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” she scoffed. “And why do you need to hear me say it?”

Rubbing his chin, he analyzed her face, and his expression suddenly turned serious. “Because I need to know that I didn’t force you into something you didn’t want.”

“You didn’t force me.”

“Then say it, Emily.”

A blush rushed up her neck to her cheeks. “You’re unreal.”

“Say it,” he dragged the words out.

“Fine.” She nervously looked around. Bringing her eyes back to his, she crossed her arms. “I wanted to kiss you, Gavin. Are you happy now?”

“No. I still feel like an asshole for putting you in that position.”

“I guess we’re even then because I still feel like shit about doing it.” She stood up to leave. “What exactly was this talk for again?”

“I want us to establish a friendship.” He rose to his feet, hoping to stop her from walking away.

“And how do we do that, Gavin?”

“You’ve admitted that you wanted to kiss me. It was
more
than obvious that I wanted to kiss you. Now we can put it behind us and be friends.”

“That simple, huh?”

“That simple,” he replied with a smile though he heard the lack of determination behind his words. “Now sit back down and finish your cup of coffee with your new friend.”

“You’re a demanding friend, I see,” she quipped, grabbing for her purse. “But, really, I should get going. Dillon’s at my apartment waiting for me.”

Gavin glanced at his watch. “You gave me five minutes. I still have another two left.”

“Are you kidding me?” she laughed.

He sat back down, took a sip of his coffee, and smiled. “What’s with all of these questions, friend?”

“I’ll say it again like I did at your house,” she replied as she settled back into her seat. “You’re truly a wiseass.”

“Certified,” he laughed. “So how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been better, and I’ve been worse.”

“Okay, so that’s not necessarily a bad thing then.”

“That you’re correct about.”

“Very good.” He smiled. “So tell me something about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

Anything. Everything. Why’d you take him back?
He thought to himself. Sliding his hand through his hair, he shrugged. “What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

“Vanilla. And yours?”

“I dig vanilla, too, but I’m really a chocolate type of guy,” he answered, watching the way she nervously shifted in her seat.

As a long silence descended across the table—during which Gavin gave her another one of those intensely searching looks—Emily noticed the way he pressed his lips together as though to stop himself from asking her something that he truly wanted to know.

“So what’s your favorite color?” he finally asked.

“Gavin, can I ask
you
a question?”

“Anything you want.”

“What are we doing?”

“We’re playing fifty questions,” he laughed.

“No, we’re not. What do you really want to ask me?”

Drawing up a brow, he leaned back and propped his hands behind his neck. “Mmm, you’re good at reading me.” He watched her for a few more seconds, studying every beautiful curve of her face. “I’ve been told I’m hard to figure out, and this, of course, comes from people who have known me far longer than you have.”

“I find you pretty easy to read.” And she did. Although he kept certain aspects of his life guarded, he was an open book in her eyes. She took a sip of her coffee. “So shoot—what is it that you really want to know?”

He contemplated her for a moment. “Are you happy with Dillon, Emily?”

She bit her lip nervously. “Why do you want to know this?”

“We’re friends, and friends ask questions. And, besides, you’re the one who asked, don’t forget.”

“Right, I did.” She looked down to her hands and then back to Gavin. “Yes, I’m happy with him.”

Placing his elbow on the table, he pressed his chin against the palm of his hand. “Why?”

Her brows knitted together. “What do you mean why?”