dropped onto the couch beside her without a moment’s hesitation. Because that was important to her. Being able to argue over whether they watch
The Hangover
again or
Kick-Ass
and filing through the merits of each was
comfortable,
and no matter how amazing it was to finally be with Sam intimately, sex wasn’t worth losing that comfort.
The guys, Ford, Tyler, and Tony, piled into the booth, grabbing up menus and nodding to their server for coffees. The extra bodies shifted everyone down into closer contact, so Ava’s thigh was pressed firmly against Sam’s, her body tucked close beneath his arm.
They’d eaten like this a hundred times without her blinking an eye over it. But this morning the proximity was distracting. Unnerving. It was good in a way she needed to put behind her and fast. A task that would be significantly easier if Sam hadn’t chosen that moment to duck his head to hers and whisper, “But were you
satisfied
?”
Her belly went into free fall as she jerked back, her eyes locking with his and catching that single flash of mischief before he’d cleared his expression completely. A skill Sam was remarkably adept at and one she’d better brush up on herself if he was going to be goading her in front of their friends.
Only another look at him and she could see the reassurance in his eyes. He wouldn’t.
“So what do you do now? Pretend to be dating for the rest of your career? Sam going to start checking the grocery store aisles for signs of Steven before he propositions the frozen-food stock girl?” Maggie asked, her eyes on the menu. Then added, “Shoot, what’s fast? I’ve got to get over to open the gallery pretty quick.”
Tyler was pointing out a couple of things on the menu—probably stuff he hoped she wouldn’t have time to eat so he could finish her plate when she had to run. But Ava was still caught on the first part of what she’d said.
Not because she was anticipating a repeat performance, or because she was worried about Steven plaguing her future now that they’d given him a good reason to turn his attention elsewhere. But because suddenly Ava was wondering how long it would be before Sam brought another woman back to his place. Before she had to deal with the reality that he was a single floor beneath her, putting his mouth on another woman, running his fingers through someone else’s hair, moving inside a body that wasn’t hers.
She winced, then tried to cover with a cough, but she could feel Sam watching her, so it was high time to get deeply involved in the skillet section of the menu.
It was going to happen, Sam bringing someone home. And chances were good it wouldn’t be that long before he did. He was a physical guy and always had been. So the best Ava could hope for would be to get that buffer back around her heart. The one she’d been slowly reinforcing since high school and had, up until the night before, been so sturdy, Sam picking up his female du jour hadn’t cost her more than a twinge in years. Now she just hoped to hell that buffer still held.
—
Sam could see the wheels turning in Ava’s head. She was damned lucky none of their friends had a freaking clue what had gone down with them the night before or they’d have been able to read it as easily as he could.
She was probably thinking about him picking up some piece of ass and feeling a little less than stellar about her slot in a string of casual encounters that had never bothered Sam before Ava became a part of it.
Only even as he thought it, he knew that wasn’t right.
What had happened with Ava wasn’t the same. It was fun, yeah. And it was a one-time thing, definitely. But his single night with Ava packed more meaning than all the nights that had come before. Combined.
She ought to know it too, but the thing about sex and girls, and especially girls like Ava whose overnights tended to be few and far between, was that they sometimes didn’t see even the most obvious things as clearly as
The Hangover
again or
Kick-Ass
and filing through the merits of each was
comfortable,
and no matter how amazing it was to finally be with Sam intimately, sex wasn’t worth losing that comfort.
The guys, Ford, Tyler, and Tony, piled into the booth, grabbing up menus and nodding to their server for coffees. The extra bodies shifted everyone down into closer contact, so Ava’s thigh was pressed firmly against Sam’s, her body tucked close beneath his arm.
They’d eaten like this a hundred times without her blinking an eye over it. But this morning the proximity was distracting. Unnerving. It was good in a way she needed to put behind her and fast. A task that would be significantly easier if Sam hadn’t chosen that moment to duck his head to hers and whisper, “But were you
satisfied
?”
Her belly went into free fall as she jerked back, her eyes locking with his and catching that single flash of mischief before he’d cleared his expression completely. A skill Sam was remarkably adept at and one she’d better brush up on herself if he was going to be goading her in front of their friends.
Only another look at him and she could see the reassurance in his eyes. He wouldn’t.
“So what do you do now? Pretend to be dating for the rest of your career? Sam going to start checking the grocery store aisles for signs of Steven before he propositions the frozen-food stock girl?” Maggie asked, her eyes on the menu. Then added, “Shoot, what’s fast? I’ve got to get over to open the gallery pretty quick.”
Tyler was pointing out a couple of things on the menu—probably stuff he hoped she wouldn’t have time to eat so he could finish her plate when she had to run. But Ava was still caught on the first part of what she’d said.
Not because she was anticipating a repeat performance, or because she was worried about Steven plaguing her future now that they’d given him a good reason to turn his attention elsewhere. But because suddenly Ava was wondering how long it would be before Sam brought another woman back to his place. Before she had to deal with the reality that he was a single floor beneath her, putting his mouth on another woman, running his fingers through someone else’s hair, moving inside a body that wasn’t hers.
She winced, then tried to cover with a cough, but she could feel Sam watching her, so it was high time to get deeply involved in the skillet section of the menu.
It was going to happen, Sam bringing someone home. And chances were good it wouldn’t be that long before he did. He was a physical guy and always had been. So the best Ava could hope for would be to get that buffer back around her heart. The one she’d been slowly reinforcing since high school and had, up until the night before, been so sturdy, Sam picking up his female du jour hadn’t cost her more than a twinge in years. Now she just hoped to hell that buffer still held.
—
Sam could see the wheels turning in Ava’s head. She was damned lucky none of their friends had a freaking clue what had gone down with them the night before or they’d have been able to read it as easily as he could.
She was probably thinking about him picking up some piece of ass and feeling a little less than stellar about her slot in a string of casual encounters that had never bothered Sam before Ava became a part of it.
Only even as he thought it, he knew that wasn’t right.
What had happened with Ava wasn’t the same. It was fun, yeah. And it was a one-time thing, definitely. But his single night with Ava packed more meaning than all the nights that had come before. Combined.
She ought to know it too, but the thing about sex and girls, and especially girls like Ava whose overnights tended to be few and far between, was that they sometimes didn’t see even the most obvious things as clearly as
Similar Books
