Page 25 of Sins of a King

“Jeez. That’s crazy.”

“Yeah. NYU, though. It’s expensive. Have to work.”

We finished our pizza and took our sodas for the walk. “Where do you live?” I asked her.

“Brooklyn. You?”

“Just a couple of blocks from here. Over on York.”

“Nice. Makes your commute to work easy.”

I smiled. “Yeah. Easiest thing about the job.”

She laughed. “See you later.” She gave me a quick hug goodbye, and we parted ways. When I got home, I slipped into my pajamas, no longer wanting a glass of wine—the pizza had been a decent emotional Band-Aid.

But when I climbed into bed, alone, I hated how empty it felt.

My apartment buzzer woke me up. Rolling over, I expected to see sunshine. Instead, all I saw was dark sky. In confusion, I thought I had dreamt it, but as I was getting comfortable and settling down, the buzzer went off again.

“What the hell?” I muttered, flinging the covers off me and heading to the front door. I pressed the intercom button. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” came Flynn’s husky voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“Let me up.”

“No.”

“Barrett,” he growled.

“It’s the middle of the night!”

“No, it’s only a little past two.”

“You could’ve called if you had something to say.”

“You wouldn’t have answered my phone call.”

“I meant tomorrow. You could’ve called tomorrow at a reasonable hour.”

“Still wasn’t sure you would’ve answered. Please let me in.”

Debating for a split second, I decided to buzz him up. The man was relentless, and at this rate, I’d never get back to sleep. I waited for the knock on the door and then opened it. Before I could get a word out, Flynn stalked toward me, took me into his arms and kissed the breath out of me. His tongue tangled with mine, and I tried to move closer, despite my sleep-hazed brain. My hands wove their way into his dark hair, and I relished his stubbly, raspy jaw against my skin.

“Wait,” I said against his lips.

“No. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

It took all of my resolve to place a hand on his chest to push him away. It was a damn fine chest, and I wanted to see it without a shirt.

No. Focus.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him again, trying to regain my breath.

“Seriously?”

“You can’t do this,” I stated. “You can’t decide all of a sudden that you want me and show up here in the middle of the night—”