something.”
The nerves in her wrist tingled under his hand, and she wondered why she never noticed before—not once in her whole life—how sensitive her arm could feel.
With a quick exhale, she forced her attention back on their conversation.
And her goal of ensuring Roman wouldn’t flunk their debate class and miss the spring formal.
“Roman.” Her voice sounded funny in her ears when she finally spoke. “Many say the New York Metros have no shot at the Stanley Cup this year and even more say their defense isn’t playing to their full potential.”
“I disagree, Ms. Marks.” His thumb flicked again and she forgot to breathe.
“Ave?”
“What?” The remembered flush that suffused her body was replaced with the reality of an adult Roman standing before her.
“You look a million miles away.”
“I was just remembering your high school debate lesson.”
“Why Pearl Jam sucks?”
Her mouth dropped. “You remember?”
“Sure I do. I think about it every time someone shoves a microphone in my face.”
“It was just a dumb debate subject by a teacher desperately trying to make class interesting.”
“As I recall, you were the interesting part. But the lesson buried underneath ended up being important, too.”
“What lesson?”
“Listen before you respond.” A broad grin split his face and she sensed he held something back.
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“No, not nothing. What?”
“I was so horny that night. I thought you’d never shut up about that stupid class and let me kiss you.”
The urge to cuff his head like that long-ago study night filled her but she kept her hands at her sides. “Men. One-track minds.”
“Only for the good memories.”
“I find it hard to believe an unfulfilled hard-on was a good memory.”
That same look—the one that had darkened his gaze so many years before—rose up and edged out the laughter in his eyes. “You have no idea.”
• • •
Those notes of unfulfilled longing that had dogged him as a teenager grabbed him as if they’d never been sated.
One look at her and all the grown-up self-control he’d gained since actually growing up vanished.
And he wasn’t kidding about the Pearl Jam debate lesson. It did come to mind every time a reporter shoved a microphone at him. You’d think he’d be used to it after all this time, but that memory—and the desperate need he’d had for a crazy, sassy slip of a girl—hadn’t ever faded.
“Since you keep avoiding my question, I’ll answer it instead. I thought today’s ceremony was beautiful. I’ve never seen Walker so happy, and I think Sloan is the perfect match for him. And if one more person asks me how long I’m staying I may leave a swath of bodies along Main Street.”
“Everyone is very concerned with how long you’ll be here.”
“I think they’re hoping for the love equivalent of a hat trick.”
Avery’s eyes widened as his words registered. “Well, we need to ensure everyone knows that there’s one love match that won’t be happening.”
Roman wasn’t sure why but the quick refusal stuck in his craw. With deliberately lazy movements, he leaned against the doorjamb of her apartment. “Why say anything?”
“This town is crazy about love. You know that. And now that the grandmothers have two of you married off, you know they’re not going to stop. This town loves seeing its bachelors settle down.”
“We’re grown-ups, Avery. I think you and I are more than capable of making up our own minds.”
“They can be persuasive.”
He couldn’t resist. The lightly hissed words—as if she were afraid of drawing the devil out of his lair—hovered in the air. With a streak of devilish amusement of his own, he snaked out a hand and grabbed one of hers in a tight grip, pulling her forward. “So can I.”
Without giving her a moment to think about it, he wrapped his other hand around her back and pulled her in for a kiss. A light “oomph” of surprise was
The nerves in her wrist tingled under his hand, and she wondered why she never noticed before—not once in her whole life—how sensitive her arm could feel.
With a quick exhale, she forced her attention back on their conversation.
And her goal of ensuring Roman wouldn’t flunk their debate class and miss the spring formal.
“Roman.” Her voice sounded funny in her ears when she finally spoke. “Many say the New York Metros have no shot at the Stanley Cup this year and even more say their defense isn’t playing to their full potential.”
“I disagree, Ms. Marks.” His thumb flicked again and she forgot to breathe.
“Ave?”
“What?” The remembered flush that suffused her body was replaced with the reality of an adult Roman standing before her.
“You look a million miles away.”
“I was just remembering your high school debate lesson.”
“Why Pearl Jam sucks?”
Her mouth dropped. “You remember?”
“Sure I do. I think about it every time someone shoves a microphone in my face.”
“It was just a dumb debate subject by a teacher desperately trying to make class interesting.”
“As I recall, you were the interesting part. But the lesson buried underneath ended up being important, too.”
“What lesson?”
“Listen before you respond.” A broad grin split his face and she sensed he held something back.
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“No, not nothing. What?”
“I was so horny that night. I thought you’d never shut up about that stupid class and let me kiss you.”
The urge to cuff his head like that long-ago study night filled her but she kept her hands at her sides. “Men. One-track minds.”
“Only for the good memories.”
“I find it hard to believe an unfulfilled hard-on was a good memory.”
That same look—the one that had darkened his gaze so many years before—rose up and edged out the laughter in his eyes. “You have no idea.”
• • •
Those notes of unfulfilled longing that had dogged him as a teenager grabbed him as if they’d never been sated.
One look at her and all the grown-up self-control he’d gained since actually growing up vanished.
And he wasn’t kidding about the Pearl Jam debate lesson. It did come to mind every time a reporter shoved a microphone at him. You’d think he’d be used to it after all this time, but that memory—and the desperate need he’d had for a crazy, sassy slip of a girl—hadn’t ever faded.
“Since you keep avoiding my question, I’ll answer it instead. I thought today’s ceremony was beautiful. I’ve never seen Walker so happy, and I think Sloan is the perfect match for him. And if one more person asks me how long I’m staying I may leave a swath of bodies along Main Street.”
“Everyone is very concerned with how long you’ll be here.”
“I think they’re hoping for the love equivalent of a hat trick.”
Avery’s eyes widened as his words registered. “Well, we need to ensure everyone knows that there’s one love match that won’t be happening.”
Roman wasn’t sure why but the quick refusal stuck in his craw. With deliberately lazy movements, he leaned against the doorjamb of her apartment. “Why say anything?”
“This town is crazy about love. You know that. And now that the grandmothers have two of you married off, you know they’re not going to stop. This town loves seeing its bachelors settle down.”
“We’re grown-ups, Avery. I think you and I are more than capable of making up our own minds.”
“They can be persuasive.”
He couldn’t resist. The lightly hissed words—as if she were afraid of drawing the devil out of his lair—hovered in the air. With a streak of devilish amusement of his own, he snaked out a hand and grabbed one of hers in a tight grip, pulling her forward. “So can I.”
Without giving her a moment to think about it, he wrapped his other hand around her back and pulled her in for a kiss. A light “oomph” of surprise was
Similar Books
