Sexy As Sin (Filthy Rich 2) - Page 16

I nodded, my heart suddenly in my throat because I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer. “Yes, it is.”

He paused for a second, watching my face, and then he said, “If you asked me back then, I would have said no. No way would we have been good parents. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, about who we were. And yeah, it was a surprise, and it would have been hard. But I honestly think we would have been good parents. In fact, I think we would have kicked ass.”

I swallowed. I was sitting down, but my knees still went weak as my stomach fluttered. I remembered why I’d chosen Dane all those years ago, picked him from all the guys I could have had.

I’d pretended it was convenient. But it wasn’t. It was because he was Dane.

And in a week I’d go home, and we’d be finished all over again.

Nine

Dane

* * *

Ava was drunk. She’d downed her second margarita in record time, and she ordered a third when I went to the bathroom. By the time I got back to the bar a minute later, she was almost halfway done.

This wasn’t like her; she wasn’t a big drinker. Then again it had been so many years, and who was I to judge? She was a thirty-year-old grown woman, and we’d just dredged up a bunch of serious shit. If she wanted a few drinks, she was entitled. I kept it to one beer so I could drive her back to her hotel.

My best friend might be the devil, but at least he put his sister up in one of Chicago’s nicest hotels. I let the valet take my Lexus as I helped Ava out of the car.

“I’m fine,” she said, but she wobbled on her heels and her voice didn’t sound very confident.

“I’ll walk you upstairs,” I said, letting her lean on me as we crossed the lobby, a few of the rich snobs glancing our way. I glared at them until they looked away again.

We got into the elevator—alone, luckily—and as the doors closed Ava said loudly, “This doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with you.”

“I know,” I said.

“I’ve had three margaritas,” Ava said as if she was making an important announcement to the empty elevator as we rose to her floor. “I’m not sleeping with you, Dane Scotland.”

“Okay.”

“I’m really not.”

“I got that.”

“I might kiss you if you ask nicely,” she said as the doors opened. “Oops.”

I nodded at the elderly couple waiting for the elevator, looking at us in surprise, and led Ava past them. “That’s not necessary,” I said. “Give me your key card.”

She did. “You smell nice.”

Was she this drunk, or was she playing it up? If she was playing it up, it was kind of sexy, though I wasn’t taking the chance. “You’re not getting me in bed, you know,” I said as the room door closed behind us.

Ava rolled her eyes and made a pfft sound—it was actually kind of funny—then reached to her right hip and unzipped her dress. It gaped open, though she didn’t pull it off yet. The leopard-print fabric sagged, and I could see the smooth line of her waist, the curve of her hip, a strip of thin black fabric that was the hip of her panties. I tore my gaze away as she reached up and pulled the tie from her blonde hair, letting it fall. “Do you know how many guys I’ve dated since you?” she asked.

I felt the back of my neck stiffen. “I’m not interested, thanks.”

“Too many,” she said, as if I’d asked. “New York is full of guys. I was going to start a new life, be a new woman. It was going to be amazing.” She started uncertainly for the bedroom, and I followed her. She was going to kill herself on those heels.

“Ava,” I said.

She ignored me, counting on her fingers. “There was the bartender I dated. And the other bartender, the shorter one. The guy who said he was going to be a DJ, but I never saw him get any gigs. The guy I met on a set who wouldn’t admit he was gay, even to himself. The guy who was Amanda’s friend who turned out to be cheating on his girlfriend. The other guy—he was a bartender, too—who dumped me because he owed too much child support and had to move back in with his parents.” She sat on the edge of the bed and unfastened her designer shoes.

“I don’t need to hear anymore,” I said, walking over to the bed and pulling her shoes off.

“One guy said he was a real estate agent, but all he did was smoke pot,” Ava said. “Do you know how many guys smoke pot like it’s their job? So many. So many.”

Tags: Julie Kriss Filthy Rich Billionaire Romance
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