He Loves Me Not (The Hawthornes of New York 1)

I drop my gaze to the glass in my hand. “Do you want a rematch?”

“So you can distract me again?” He takes the glass from me. Bringing it to his lips, he tilts it until one ice cube slides into his mouth. “I should have ordered a bourbon.”

I watch the way his tongue darts out to collect the last lingering drop of my drink from his bottom lip. “There’s still time.”

He glances at his watch. “Unfortunately, there’s not. Your curfew is creeping up on us.”

I reach for his wrist and twist it so I can see. “You’re right.”

His hand moves to hold mine. “Did you enjoy your celebration, Bianca?”

I don’t fight his grasp. Instead, I relish it. The warmth of his hand sends goose bumps scattering up my arm. “Yes.”

“What was the best part?”

“Beating you,” I say quickly. “The chocolate was a close second.”

His free hand dives into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He tugs out another chocolate bar. “For your next craving.”

I drop his hand to take it. “You didn’t buy an extra for yourself?”

His eyes look into mine. “No. I bought that one just for you.”

“You assumed I’d like chocolate as much as you do.”

He lowers his voice. “I assume you like many things as much as I do.”

With effortless ease, he shifts the conversation from chocolate to sex while still holding my gaze.

I look away. “Thank you, Roman.”

“I can have the driver take you home,” he offers. “I promise to keep my eyes closed so I won’t know where that is.”

I can’t fight a smile. “I’ll get home on my own.”

I wait for him to ask for another non-date, but he just stares at me.

“Thank you for the chocolate and the drink,” I say. “And thank you for sucking at pinball. My winning streak still stands.”

He huffs out a deep laugh. “A rematch is in our future.”

I’m tempted to ask when, but I don’t.

“I’ll walk you out.” He motions toward the door of the pub.

Disappointment nips at me. He’s not even trying to move in for a goodnight kiss.

I fish my phone from my purse. “I’ll order an Uber. I think I’ll wait in here until it arrives.”

A smile slides over his mouth before he leans down to press his lips against my cheek for a soft kiss. “Congratulations again on the promotion, Bianca.”

My whispered “ thank you ” gets lost when he turns to walk away, leaving me wondering when I’ll see him again.

Chapter 15

Bianca

I prepare to devour the chocolate bar that Roman handed me as soon as I enter my apartment. Unfortunately, before I can tear it open, it falls from my hand.

“You scared the hell out of me,” I accuse with a pointed finger in the air.

Holding a large white bowl in her hands, my sister half-shrugs. “I ran out of microwave popcorn.”

“That’s what stores are for.” I sigh. “You could have said something as I was walking in, Vivi. My heart is beating like crazy.”

“Take a few deep breaths,” she says soothingly. “Do you want some popcorn to go along with your chocolate?”

“I want my keys back.” I laugh.

“You don’t.” She plops herself on my couch. “When you gave me those keys, you said I could drop by whenever I wanted and make myself at home. So I’m doing that.”

It’s another I-told-you-so moment with my dear little sis.

Vivi stretches out her bare legs. She’s wearing a pair of jean cut-offs and a white off-the-shoulder sweater she stole from my closet more than a year ago. It suits her better than it does me.

She’s always been effortlessly beautiful. Vivi can wake up and look flawless without a stitch of makeup.

“How was work today?” she asks.

Picking up the chocolate bar, I smile. “Good. I’m really enjoying my new position.”

She pats the empty spot on the couch next to her. “Come and sit with me.”

I settle in beside her with the chocolate bar still in my hands. “How was your day?”

“I met with three engaged couples.” She smiles. “They all want to get married in late summer, but we’re booked up through the rest of the year.”

“You’ll squeeze them in.”

Her eyes light up. “I will. How can I get in the way of someone’s fairytale happy ending?”

My sister has always been a romantic deep into her bones. She’d hold elaborate weddings for her dolls when she was a kid and wrote love letters to her future husband when she was fourteen.

“If you’re willing to share the chocolate, I’d be forever grateful.”

I run a fingernail over the label to break the seal. Carefully peeling back the foil wrapper, I stop when I notice something peeking out from beneath the chocolate. “Why don’t I get us something to drink? Is lemonade good for you?”

“Perfect,” Vivi says before she drops a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

I trek across the apartment with the chocolate bar tightly in my grasp.