4. Avery
FOUR
AVERY
I’ve been thinking about Reid since I met him last weekend. I wasn’t sure I’d be lucky enough to see him again, and now he’s on top of me. Close enough so I can smell his cologne and see the flecks of gold in his eyes.
His mouth parts and his hips press into mine. I recognize chest muscles. Lean, long limbs and pure man.
My back arches, desperate to feel more of him. His sharp gaze sweeps over my face, and my cheeks burn when he stares at me and refuses to look away.
I’m clutching the lapels of his jacket like my life depends on it. His right hand grips my shoulder. My leg is almost wrapped around his waist, and one of us has to be the first to break the silence.
“Hi,” I say feebly.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice pitched rough and low.
“I’m here for a wedding. I’m friends with the bride.”
“What wedding?”
“Dallas Lansfield and Maven Wood. He’s a football player and?—”
“How the hell do you know Maven?”
“We play on the same recreational soccer team,” I say. “Well, played. Life got too busy for both of us, and we aren’t coming back this season.”
“Holy shit. I knew you looked familiar.” He’s still hovering above me. I’m still touching him. “I went to her first game years ago, and I haven’t been back.”
I sort through the hazy memories of that afternoon.
The grand gesture Dallas pulled off for Maven. All her friends being there, including Reid , who only looked away from his phone long enough to cheer for one of her goals. The way he didn’t pay attention to anyone, detached and off in another world.
We didn’t speak that day. After, when it was time to celebrate our victory, he disappeared without an introduction, and I forgot all about him. I hadn’t given the mystery man a thought until right now.
“Is this one of those Missed Connections on Craigslist?” I ask.
“Probably a lot less creepy,” he says. “Our eyes didn’t meet while we were both reaching for the soup in the grocery store.”
“But what a story that would be. I’m assuming that means you’re here for the same wedding. There can’t be too many other ceremonies in the same spot.”
“I’m Dallas’s best man. I won the honors.”
“You did? What game?”
His mouth twitches. “Dungeons & Dragons.”
I file that under the handful of things I know about him from the short time we spent together. He’s smart. Nerdy and quiet until you get him talking about something he’s passionate about, then he goes a mile a minute.
“I didn’t realize role-playing games were used to determine best man status.”
“They are in my friend group.” Reid pushes himself off me and stands. He holds out a hand, and I let him pull me up on two feet. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Right back at you. This is a surprise. A good surprise,” I add.
“Wow.” He takes a step back and looks me up and down. It’s slow and drawn out, a thorough investigation as he takes his time. His attention snags on the slit of my black dress, the cut in the fabric that comes halfway up my thigh, and he makes a strangled sound from deep in his chest. “You look great.”
If he’s going to admire me so brazenly, I’m going to admire him right back.
His tuxedo is form-fitting, and I catch the glimmer of cufflinks on his sleeves. He still has that same scruff on his cheeks and jaw, but his hair is less messy than it was the other night. His glasses are the same, and he adjusts them on his nose when I lift my chin.
Lord, he’s hot.
My profession awards me the opportunity to be around good-looking men. The multimillionaires who have no shame in spending money on products and clothes that will assert them as best dressed or hottest in the locker room.
I’m the one to capture videos of them shirtless and sweaty, beads of perspiration dripping down the muscles women dream about. One upload to TikTok and it would break the internet. They’re all cocky. Sure of themselves. Womanizers who’ve never had to work to get the attention of a female.
I’ve already gathered that Reid is different.
He’s shy. Hesitant in believing he could hold the titles of good-looking and most attractive. A guy who would rather fade into the background than steal the spotlight.
But gosh , he could be the star of the show.
“So do you.” I wring my hands together. I’ve never been so nervous around a man before, but the intense way he’s looking at me makes my words catch in my throat. Pressure expands behind my lungs, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “It’s good to see you again.”
He nods, eyes still firmly on mine. “You too.”
Silence settles between us again.
I rock forward on my heels and smooth my palms over the front of my dress. I’m tempted to give him more of an explanation about why I had to run the other night. I want to open the door to my life, but I’m not sure where to start.
“Shouldn’t you be downstairs?” I finally ask, changing the subject.
“Shit.” Reid checks the watch clasped around his wrist. “They’re going to kill me.”
“I’m sorry for keeping you for so long.”
“Don’t apologize. If I was going to accidentally assault anyone in the hallway, I’m glad it was you.”
A laugh tumbles out of me, light and free. “I’m the one who should be blamed for assault. I was fixing my shoe, and I got distracted.”
“Call it even by saving me a dance later?”
“I’d like that,” I say. “But I’m disappointed you’re not wearing Crocs.”
“I’m breaking them out for the reception. Then boat shoes for the after party.”
“I can’t wait to see the photos in GQ .”
“Want to go down together?” he asks, then winces. “Sorry. I mean take the elevator down. To the lobby. Where the wedding is happening. I didn’t mean?—”
“Sure,” I say, saving him the embarrassment. “Why not? We’re going to the same place.”
He rests his hand on my lower back and guides me forward. His palm is warm on my skin, and the dip in my dress gives him plenty of space to touch me freely.
I shiver at the contact and the soft brush of his fingers along my spine. I boldly lean into him, craving more, and I’m tempted to push him into the elevator and kiss him senseless.
I wanted to at the bar, but I didn’t have the chance. Knowing my phone is shut off and locked in my hotel room with an out-of-office message set up, I’m not going to sleep until I know what he tastes like.
The doors to the elevator open, and we step inside. The temperature seems to climb twenty degrees in the enclosed space. When he reaches past me to press the button for the lobby, I wonder what his touch would feel like on my breasts. Trailing down my stomach and between my legs.
“Are you staying here tonight?” Reid asks, and he must be thinking the same thing I am.
“Yeah.” I fix the strap of my dress and heat flares behind his eyes as he tracks my movements. “I knew it was going to be a late night, and not having to worry about how I was going to get home sounded a lot easier than trying to fight the crowd for an Uber.”
The elevator stops at the seventh floor, and a group of wedding guests file in. Reid nods hello to a couple of them, and he steps closer to me to give them room.
“How many whiskeys is it going to take for you to tell me your real name?” he asks.
“What are you talking about? I told you my name.”
“You told me a name. Not your name.” He taps the chain around my neck and drags his knuckles across the small silver links. “I’d really like to know what I can actually call you. No bullshit.”
I swallow and tilt my head back. With my heels on, we’re closer in height, and I like that I can look him in the eyes.
“Avery,” I say softly.
“Avery,” he murmurs, and my name has never sounded so precious before. “It’s a pleasure to meet you for real.”
“The pleasure is still mine.”
When we reach the ground floor, the rest of the guests head into the lobby. Reid sticks an arm out, keeping the doors open, and stares at me.
“I wasn’t kidding about that dance,” he says, but nothing about it is forceful.
It’s almost like he’s begging for the chance, and a wildfire sparks inside me.
“I wasn’t either. I hope your best man duties go well.” I give him a smile I hope is flirty and throw caution to the wind. “Come find me later, Reid. Maybe we can finish what we started the other night at the bar.”