Chapter 7 Ari #2
A gust of wind blew across the rooftop. Ari buttoned up the blazer he’d given her to try and warm herself up.
It smelled like fresh laundry and firewood, homey.
Drew’s secrets were flags too bright to ignore.
But he was attractive. She liked talking to him, and the look in his eyes made her want to lean a little closer.
“We should trademark this and put it on a set of cards,” she joked. “Worst Foot Forward. The game to play to ensure you never fall in love with someone.”
“So, what I’m hearing is that if I hadn’t told you my secrets, you would have fallen in love with me, Ari?
” His mouth curved up into an expression that made her feel like the two of them were in on a secret.
It was dangerously alluring, so she shook her head and used all her strength to hold his gaze, instead of melting under it.
“It’s not me who’s in trouble, babe.”
“Yet I can feel you getting lost in my eyes,” he said. She hated that he was right.
“Well, it’s a good thing we both already know that this would never work out.”
“Why?” There was a gleam in his eyes.
She bit the inside of her mouth and tried to remember her reasons.
“Well, we both have complicated exes.”
“And you could never just be a rebound.” His voice was low, and flirty, as if speaking like this came naturally to him. Ari saw right through it, but was having too much fun not to play along.
“More importantly, you don’t sound like you live in London.”
He nodded. “I fly back to the States next week. But there are five days before then.”
She shook her head and tried not to get pulled in.
“Even if you were staying, as of an hour ago I’ve officially sworn off men. At least until the spring.”
“But if we saw each other again in April and all those reasons disappeared…” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“It still wouldn’t work out. In fact, I can already predict the breakup.”
He leaned closer and looked her in the eyes. “How would it end?”
60! 59! 58! came the distant sound of a shouted countdown.
“Well, you would try to sweep me off my feet, but I know I wouldn’t let you.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I don’t trust charming men,” she said simply. “You could be the perfect guy, and I’d still hold you at a distance.”
He looked away for a moment, as if trying to find his own reasons.
“If we were together, I think you’d eventually get frustrated by me,” he said.
“Why?”
47! 46! 45!
“Because I’d rather become distant than risk hurting your feelings, which kind of makes me a coward,” he admitted, looking into her eyes.
“Well, I would rather orchestrate a situation to push you away than have a difficult conversation. Which makes me a coward, too,” she said. But she could feel the strange tension in the air.
34! 33! 32!
“I’d keep you at arm’s length,” she confessed, “then run at the first sight of trouble.”
“I’d hang on even when it’s too far gone.” He shrugged. “I can’t help it, I’m a fixer.”
“I’ve learned to be a bolter.”
“Then,” he whispered, “I guess we’d be a match made in hell.”
21! 20! 19!
Yet there they were, knees pressed against each other, faces so close she could feel his breath. She wanted to sink her teeth into the tension. But then, to her relief, he made the first move.
Drew gently ran his finger down the side of her cheek, the friction on her skin sliding toward a spark.
He found a loose curl, caught it between his fingers, and gently brushed it behind her ear.
His touch slowly lit up every nerve in her body.
So, she let her hand find his arm, slowly drifting up as she felt the firm muscle beneath his shirt.
He watched her hand rise until it settled on his shoulder, tightening as his finger traced small circles on the soft skin between her neck and jaw.
When she spoke, her words landed so softly he had no choice but to lean closer.
8! 7! 6!
“The breakup would be awful,” she whispered, biting her lip. But she could feel the warmth spreading across her body as he glanced down at her mouth and then back into her eyes.
“But maybe it would be worth it?” he said, lips twitching upward, like a man willing to risk it all.
“Which is why … we should never see each other again.”
3! 2! 1!
But when they collided, all her worries and reasons faded.
He kissed her, soft and slow. The gentle pressure of it sending a streak of heat across her body, like a match gliding until the friction turned into a flame.
Before she knew it, she was leaning in. He was wrapping his hands around her waist. And their lips were moving in rhythm, achingly slow and sensual like two lovers on a dance floor.
Her body was begging her to lose her senses.
But she couldn’t give in. He was handsome and honest, and in so many ways, the exact kind of escape she needed that night.
But Drew knew her secrets, and Ari knew his. So, she pulled away, ignored the fireworks lighting up the sky, and ran down the stairs. She left the party before the taste of his lips could change her mind.