Page 4

Chapter four

Cecilia

Talk about coincidences.

I want to kiss him.

God, do I want to capture those beautiful lips between mine.

It’s taking every effort in my body not to.

We just met; this isn’t even a date—at least not a date-date.

And from the hunger in his eyes, I can tell he wants the same.

But there’s also slight hesitation in them, unsure if he should act on my unspoken request.

After what feels like an eternity of us in this position, neither one of us making a move, I break eye contact, clear my throat, and take a step back from his hold.

The hands that held me mere moments ago now fall to his side in defeat.

Rejection flashes through his eyes before he looks away.

The tension surrounding us is so thick you could slice it with a knife.

I don’t know what to say or do to make him understand why I stepped away.

My intention was never to make him think I wasn’t interested.

I’m just not usually the type to jump into things so quickly, and the fact that we met barely four hours ago seems a bit too quick for me.

Still, I want him to know that I am, in fact, interested in him.

With that resolution in mind, I stretch my hand out to his and lace our fingers together, smiling fondly up at him, hoping that gets the message through. He peers down at our interlocked hands for a moment before a voluminous grin forms over his lips.

“We should head back. It’s getting pretty late, and I work in the morning,” I tell him sweetly, pulling on his hand lightly to get him moving in the direction we came from.

“Yeah, you’re right. I have practice in the morning, and Coach is going to kill me if I’m anything but my best on the ice.” He shakes his head, smirking to himself.

I notice this is the first time he brought up his work voluntarily, so I decide to take that as an opening. I’m hoping he’ll be more comfortable talking about it now, and if he isn’t, I’m fine with that, too. I don’t really care what he does, I just want to know him .

“So, hockey, huh?” Subtle, Cecilia, very subtle.

He rubs the back of his neck with his free palm, clearly still edgy about the whole topic. “Yeah, I’ve been playing pro for about ten years now, here in New York.”

I answer with a simple, “Wow.” Which catches his attention. He glances my way with raised eyebrows as if he was expecting more from me.

I let out a soft chuckle at his reaction. “Sorry, I don’t really know much about the sport. Would you hate me if I said I’m not really a hockey fan?” I say only half joking. I don’t want him to hate me.

Now it’s his turn to chuckle. “Nah, we’ll change that. Don’t worry.”

An incredulous laugh breaks out of me instantly. “WOW! You really are arrogant,” I say, zero spite lacing my voice.

“What can I say? I like getting my way... and I always get my way,” he delivers with a wink, satisfied with himself.

I can’t help the smile that overtakes me as I look at him. I must admit, his overconfidence is pretty sexy. But I won’t make it that easy for him. After all, I like a man who works for it. “Mhmm, we’ll see about that.”

He bends to the side slightly, bringing his lips to my ear. His breath, a featherlike caress against my earlobe, makes a shiver run its course through my body as he whispers seductively, “Is that a challenge, Miss Rose? Because if that’s the case... I accept.”

He returns to his full height as I bump my shoulder against his arm, shaking my head as we both laugh off the ridiculousness of the conversation.

We reach the exit to the park and stand along the sidewalk, his large hand still holding my small one. “Can I walk you home? I wouldn’t feel right leaving you alone this late at night.”

Warmth spreads through my veins at his declaration. To anyone else, it might be just a simple statement, but to me, the fact that he cares means the world.

“I’d like that,” I reply coyly, tucking my hair behind my ear before turning down the sidewalk and guiding him toward the condo I share with Emma.

The closer we get to my condo, the more the curious look on his face intensifies. He peeks at me with every turn we make until we reach our destination, where his expression of curiosity transforms into a full-blown frown, his hand tightening around mine.

Rattled by his sudden change of mood, I question internally what could have transpired in his mind from our time at the park to my place of residence.

“Well... this is me,” I declare with a wave of the hand toward the entrance of the lavish high-rise.

He studies me acutely, eyes roaming over every corner of my face. Feeling discombobulated with his reaction, I retrieve my hand from his and take a step back. I’m prepared to wish him a goodnight and leave this strange ending, but he speaks up before I get the chance.

“You’re joking, right?”

I narrow my eyes in confusion. “Excuse me?” He looks from the building, then back to me, stating his point but not granting me a verbal response. Why would he think I’m lying about where I live?

Okay, yes, the high-rise is extremely luxurious and probably costs way more than I make in a year to live in, hence why I have a very wealthy and generous roommate. But that wouldn’t be a good enough reason to lie to him.

“Umm... no.”

He continues to stare at me as he considers my response.

Having had enough with this odd encounter, I decide to just leave it at that and turn to the steps leading into the building.

I’ve made it up two out of the three when this deep, unexpected laugh has me jumping on the spot and whipping around.

I find Silas with his head thrown back, that well-pronounced Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. A hand clutches his abdomen like it physically pains him to laugh so hard. What the heck is going on!?

“What the hell is so—” But before I can finish my sentence, I’m interrupted by the doorman stepping out and holding the door open.

“Good evening, Mr. Hayes, Miss. Are we heading in for the night?”

Silas stops laughing to acknowledge the new presence. He walks up, joining my side on the step, but keeps his gaze on the elderly man still holding the door for us.

“Good evening, Stanley. I think we are,” he says, ending his statement with a flirtatious wink in my direction.

He goes to continue his way toward Stanley, but I quickly grab his forearm to stop his movements. “Wait, how do you know his name? And what does he mean by ‘heading in’ ?” I look at him confusedly.

All he does is throw a sly grin my way, and suddenly all the dots start to form in my head. The reason his mood suddenly changed, his weird behavior only minutes ago, and why he thought I was messing with him. He lives here.

“No... NOOO... you live here!?” I say, mouth gaping in shock as my hand falls from his arm to hang loosely at my side.

He looks down at his feet, shaking his head in disbelief at the outcome. “Yup,” he says, popping the ‘P’. “Top floor,” he adds with all the smugness he can muster .

“ Of course you live in the penthouse,” I emphasize my words with a bit of irritation at his pleased expression.

He skips up the last step and stands beside the elderly man. “Come on, Minnie. Stanley’s not going to hold the door forever.”

“Ugh! Again with the short jokes, really?” I say before climbing the rest of the way, passing by both men with my head held high. Maybe that will give me a few extra inches. If he thinks I’m short now, wait until he sees me without these heels.

I smile at the delightful old man. “Goodnight, Stanley,” I tell him as I enter the building, leaving Silas by the door.

Making my way to the elevator, I press the call button and wait. I can faintly hear Silas wish goodnight to our doorman across the great expanse of the lobby before he sprints in my direction.

By the time he reaches me, the ding of the elevator sounds, indicating its arrival moments before the doors slide open.

Ever the gentleman, he outstretches his arm in the direction of the empty elevator cab, motioning me to go first. I step in, him following suit as we stand side by side while the door closes.

He reaches for the car operating panel, preparing to select a number. “What floor?”

I turn my head his way and look at his profile with speculation. “Is this your way of finding out what condo unit I’m staying in?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says, not sparing me a glance. Still, I don’t miss the way the corner of his lips rises into a smile. He tilts his head in my direction and whispers, “Although, if I don’t select a floor, we’ll never start moving.”

“Oh... right, seventeen, please.” My cheeks burn from embarrassment.

The air around us shifts as he takes my hand in his, his thumb rubbing circles against the back of it. The higher we go, the stronger my heart beats in my ears. My breath gets heavier with each floor we pass, the electricity between us crackling louder and louder.

We turn simultaneously, our eyes locking on one another as he searches mine for something, though I’m not quite sure what. Maybe an indication of where I would want this to go.

We’re so close, our chests a hair away from brushing up against each other.

I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

His manly cologne, a mixture of smoke and spice all in one, intoxicates my nostrils in the very best way.

God, I could live off this smell alone. I want to smell it on my sheets late at night.

The elevator chimes as we hit the seventeenth floor, breaking us out of our spell in an instant. He takes a small step back, dropping my hand and clearing his throat before speaking. “Lead the way.” And I do as I’m told.

Exiting the cab, we turn right toward two out of the four units on this floor. Once down the hall, a single door sits on either side of the walls. To the right is my sixty-year-old, super inappropriate but lovely neighbor, Ms. Maggie, and to the left is mine and Emma’s sanctuary.

“Here we are,” I say sheepishly, butterflies taking flight in my belly as I stop in front of my door.

I stand straight, hoping my head is just high enough to block the peephole in case Emma happens to be on the other side. Although that wouldn’t really stop her. Knowing her, she would just whip the door open and join the interaction.

“I had a great time tonight,” I tell him sincerely.

“Yeah, me too. Maybe we could... do that again?” he asks in a nervous tone. Why is he nervous?

“I’d love that!” I answer a bit too quickly, putting the thrill lacing my voice in the spotlight. And cue the blushing! Jesus, Cece. Get a grip!

The delight that breaks over his features tells me he liked my response. “Cool! Okay, yeah. Well, then, goodnight!” He rushes out in a hurry.

He then proceeds to bend down and smack his lips against my cheek with such force my face almost hits the door frame from the sudden movement. Silas quickly rights himself, eyes wide as he takes in what he just did.

I raise my hand to the cheek that was just attacked and slightly rub the point of impact, blinking a couple of times to try and make sense of what just happened.

Silas grasps the back of his neck and gazes at me with a distressed look. “Shit! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I don’t know why I—”

I interrupt his speech by stepping to him and placing my hand over his chest. I rise onto the tips of my toes slowly, his head coming down to mine as my free hand rises to settle along his jaw.

His short stubble prickles my skin as I gently lay a feather-light kiss to his cheek before whispering into his ear, “Goodnight.”

As I drop back down, I notice the dilation of his pupils, black almost fully overtaking green, and can feel the rapid racing of his heart beneath my palm.

I smile and step back, grabbing onto the handle at my back. I open the door, turn, and step inside, shutting it quickly behind me, needing to step away and hide before I do something crazy like invite him in.

I lay my forehead against the door, eyes closed as I berate myself for having so little self-control to the point where I would invite a man I just met into my bed.

I hear a deep groan come from the other side of the door, a voice now forever ingrained into my mind speaking in a hushed tone as the sound of his footsteps go back and forth. “God, I’m such an idiot! What the hell is happening to me?!”

I can’t help the giggle that falls from my lips, causing his steps to falter in their track. “You didn’t hear that, did you?”

This time, I try my best to hold it in and steady my voice before replying, “Nope.” Accentuating the ‘P’, hoping that will sell the lie.

It’s a beat before he answers, “Okay, good... good.” His steps get closer to the door until I can practically feel his presence through it.

Something settles against the door above me.

His forehead? And another to the side of where mine is pressed.

His hand? It’s extremely quiet in the hall, yet the pull through the door is immensely loud.

I can feel him waiting, but for what? I do the only thing that comes to mind—the only thing my body is currently begging me to do. I bring my hand up and settle it over the spot he put his.

I hear his exhale as if it were directly in my ear, goosebumps scattering along my arms as he whispers quietly, “Goodnight, Cecilia.”

“Goodnight, Silas.”