“Harry,” she whispers, closing her eyes.
Now it’s my mouth that’s moving before I have time to even think about it.
“Everything’s gonna be okay. I’ll never break your heart,” I say, meaning it with everything in me. “Never.”
Winter opens her eyes, filled with pleading as she looks down at me. “You don’t know that. What happens when you fall in love, Harry?”
“I’m horrible Harry, remember? I don’t fall in love.”
I smile so she knows I’m teasing her about the names she’s called me and bring her a little closer so she can rest her forehead against mine. Her warm breath dances across my lips as I force myself not to say anything more.
“You are pretty horrible,” she whispers.
I slide my hands around to cup her ass, a little groan escaping over how good it feels to finally have my hands on her.
“The worst,” I agree, squeezing her just enough to elicit a moan from her. My fingertips graze beneath the hem of her tank top, skimming over the warm, bare skin of her waist.
I’m at war with myself. Part of me wants to enjoy this slow, sensual dance. Every touch between us is a first, and I want to savor every last sensation. But my primal instincts are urging me to move this along further, to the bedroom. What we’re doing is nice—very nice—but I want more.
She cups the side of my face and I lean into her touch, every nerve ending firing at the sensation. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on. Winter has a power over me that’s both thrilling and fucking terrifying.
I can feel her breath on my face as she brings her lips closer to mine. If she actually kisses me, I’ll take it. Anything she’s willing to give me. I want it all.
A wail sounds from the living room. Winter bolts upright and steps back, her eyes wide as she touches her fingers to her lips.
“Oh God,” she says, cringing. “What am I doing?”
“Hey—”
Avery cries again and Winter takes off, not even looking back. I blow out a deep breath, knowing better than to try to talk this out with her. She’ll yell at me about all the reasons she hates me. I’ve got her spiel memorized now.
I take a bottle of water from the fridge and go back to my office, not even looking over at her. She’ll probably be able to read my expression, and that’s the last thing I need. Because if Winter could see my face at this moment, she’d see a look of satisfaction right now rather than disappointment.
Now I know for sure this isn’t just a one-sided thing. She feels it, too. I just have to convince her that it’s okay to give in to our attraction.
Chapter Twelve
Winter
My client, Tara, admires her new dark-colored hair in the mirror at Perfectly Posh, the salon I work at.
“I love it,” she says, grinning. “I’m so glad you’re back. No one’s ever been able to color my hair the right shade like you do.”
“It’s good to be back,” I say, meaning it.
I love being with Avery and I always feel a pang of sadness when I have to leave for work, but it’s nice to have a reason to wear makeup and get dressed to go out again, even if it’s just in a pair of jeans.
After Tara pays me for her cut, color and style, I go into the break room to get a drink before my next appointment starts, taking out my phone to check for messages.
I have a text from Harry. When I open it, I see a photo of Avery sleeping in an infant-size blue Cubs T-shirt and a diaper, a fake black mustache attached to her upper lip. I burst out laughing.
Me: She just needs a can of Natural Light to complete this look.
Harry: And maybe a cigar…
Harry: How’s work?
Me: Changing lives one haircut at a time.
Harry: What sounds good for dinner?
Me: Thai. I can pick some up on my way home later. What do you want?
Harry: Just let me know what you want and I’ll have it delivered.
Me: Chicken pad thai please.
Harry: As you wish.
Me: You, sir, are no Wesley.
Harry: Hey, I’d make a good Dread Pirate Roberts, though.
Me: That’s true. Gotta go! My next appointment is here.
Harry: See you later.
Me: Okay.
I slide my phone into my purse and grab a couple pretzels to eat on the way back out to my station.
Things have been awkward with me and Harry since we almost kissed. I thought he would try again at some point, but he hasn’t and I’m okay with that because I will not be sleeping with him.
It doesn’t matter how hot he is. He broke Mallory’s heart. I’d be a complete traitor if I let him sweet-talk me into his bed. I just had a weak moment the other day, and I got caught up in the smell and feel of him. Not to mention that dark, hungry gaze of his.