Rush

My belt is next. With a tug, it’s free and on the couch too.

Just as my hands drop to the zipper of my pants, I hear movement at the door of my apartment.

For fuck’s sake.

I assumed Emma was somewhere in Manhattan living it up.

I didn’t expect her back here yet.

I spin around as the door flies open and she walks in. White shorts and a black T-shirt cover her body. Her hair is tied up into a lopsided ponytail.

Her eyes widen as her gaze flits over my naked chest.

Seeing her reaction to finding me shirtless is enough to jerk my cock to life, but that’s short-lived once I get a glimpse of the person on her heel.

“Cason fucking Abbott,” he blurts out. “I heard you were back in town, you son-of-a-bitch.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I toss him a nod. “Do I know you?”

Panic flits across Emma’s expression. Stepping forward, she stares at me. “He said his name is Gavin Fuller. He told me he’s your cousin.”

Her eyes don’t leave mine even though Gavin is rounding her on his approach to me.

“I wouldn’t have let him come up with me if I didn’t believe his story,” Emma says in a rush. “You don’t look alike, so I was skeptical, but I don’t look like my cousins. Most of them have blonde hair. My parents both have blonde hair, but my mom isn’t a natural blonde if you know what I mean.”

Why the fuck do I like that rambling thing she does?

She carries on at a breathless pace. “His hair is black, and your hair is brown, but you both have green eyes, so I thought that was a family trait. Is it?”

Gavin stops in front of me. “Tell her I’m your cousin.”

I look him over. When I left New York, he was working his way through medical school. Now he’s an E.R. doctor who is too busy to return my calls.

I raise a hand and pat him on the cheek. “Look at you all grown up.”

With a swat of his hand against mine, he laughs. “Look at you. Still shirtless, I see. This is New York, Case, not California. If you want to be taken seriously here, put on a suit.”

Inching closer to us, Emma catches my eye. “So you do know each other?”

Before I have a chance to respond to that, she continues. “He was talking to Lester in the lobby when I came back from the bodega. I went to get some bubble bath, but they were out.”

“Tough luck,” Gavin offers with a glance at her.

Emma shrugs. “It wasn’t meant to be. Anyways, Lester called me over and mentioned that I was staying with you. So Gavin asked if he could come up, but I explained that you were having dinner with a woman at Nova at seven. Then Lester said your date must have been canceled because you just got home, so I thought, why not surprise you by bringing your cousin up here to see you?”

Gavin looks over his shoulder at Emma before his gaze focuses back on me. “What she said.”

I’d forgotten how Lester hovers so he can overhear everything that happens in the lobby. He must have been listening when I was making a reservation for two. Lester didn’t realize that the head chef at Nova owed me a favor. A happily married couple is enjoying a well-deserved gourmet meal on the house tonight.

Reaching for my shirt, I slip it on. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No,” Emma answers before Gavin can get his mouth open.

Fuck.

The question was directed at my cousin, not Drake’s sister.

Gavin turns around to face Emma. “Do you like pasta?”

“Who doesn’t?” she asks with a smile.

Jerking a thumb over his shoulder toward me, Gavin huffs out a laugh. “Cason.”

Shaking my head, I button my shirt. “Fuck you, Fuller. You’re thinking of Calvetti’s, aren’t you?”

That turns him back to face me. “I know from experience that you won’t find authentic Italian food like that on the west coast.”

I’d argue the point, but I see no need. If I’ve missed anything about this city, it’s the food at Calvetti’s.

Grabbing my suit jacket, I point at the door. “Let’s go.”

“Can I get a minute to change my clothes?” Emma asks hopefully.

“Take all the time you need,” Gavin replies. “Case and I have some catching up to do.”

“I’ll be quick,” she says before she crosses the room toward the hallway.

Gavin’s gaze follows her every move, so I poke him in the chest.

“What the fuck?” He takes a step back. “Who is she, and more importantly, why the hell is she living here?”

“She’s not,” I answer as I slide my jacket back on. “She’s Drake’s sister.”

His brows perk. “That’s Whitney?”

“Emma,” I correct him.

He takes a second to register that. “That’s Emma Owens? What’s going on between you two?”