I bury my face in my drink, forcing myself to take slow, measured sips. It tastes delicious, sweet, and refreshing.
“Do you live here alone?” I avoid his gaze as I ask the question, afraid to give the impression that I care.
“I do.” A slight pause. “Do you live alone back in NYC?”
Just like before, he’s avoiding talking about himself. Either he’s the monosyllabic type, or he doesn’t want me to know too much about him. Either way, I find his evasive nature rude.
“I don’t.” I stare at him, unwilling to say more. If he wants to remain shrouded in mystery, then so do I.
The corners of his lips twitch. “I know. Mandy said you’ve been living together since your first day of college.”
I grimace.
What else escaped her big mouth?
“She also said that you’re starting a new position next week and that you have no time for relationships,” Kellan continues, seemingly enjoying his advantage over me.
“I never said I didn’t have time for relationships. I just don’t want one.”
He nods, like he knows exactly how I feel. “Relationship gone bad in the past?”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally, I shake my head. “Nope. Not really.”
It’s a lie.
Someone hurt me—bad—but I can’t tell him that. He wouldn’t understand, not when I’m sure he’s probably broken thousands of hearts.
His brows shoot up in obvious interest. “Not eager to share?”
I shake my head again.
There’s no way in hell I’ll disclose my romantic past to someone like him. If I want to unburden myself, then I’ll listen to Taylor Swift songs to feel better about all the things that have gone wrong in my life.
“I’m a good listener.” Kellan leans forward, elbows propped on his knees, as though his physical proximity could prove his point.
I frown at his sudden interest. “Why do you even want to know?”
“Because I like to know about my competition.”
A simple statement. Just like that, he seems to think about competition.
I laugh. “I doubt Kellan Boyd knows what competition is.”
“You’re right. I don’t usually have competition.” He hesitates, which gives me the opportunity to regard him intently, trying hard to read the sudden shadow crossing his features. His green gaze seems a shade darker. Troubled. And determined.
I clear my throat and look away when his fingers clasp my chin, forcing my eyes back to him. “I’m not afraid of competition, Ava.”
“I never believed you were.”
“Good. I won’t make a secret out of the fact that I always get the woman I want. You won’t be the exception, Ava.”
His monumental ego is back.
I open my mouth, then close it at the way his mouth seems to draw closer to me.
My breath is caged in my chest, waiting, expecting, fearing that one moment when his lips will crash down on mine.
The world around us seems to stand still while my head becomes a big void of nothingness, my senses straining to tune into him. He’s so close. I can smell him. I can see the way the light reflects in his irises, splitting it into different shades of green—all beautiful, all breathtaking.
“You’re different,” he whispers.
“How so?”
“I don’t know. Just different.”
“Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“I don’t know, either. Is not wanting me a bad thing?”
“You tell me.” I cock my head, a smile tugging at my lips. “After all, you’re the one with the long list of conquests.”
“None of them matter,” Kellan says. “None of them get my attention like you do.” He glances at me. “There’s something about you that drives me crazy.”
“I believe it’s called rejection.” His eyebrows rise, so I feel the need to clarify. “I rejected you, and now you think you have to conquer me.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s more than that. I want you. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before. I just can’t explain it…I can’t explain you.”
My breath hitches, stolen by his words. When did things take this turn? One moment he’s flirting with me, the next he’s saying something like this. I’m not sure that I like the change.
“What are you saying?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“I’m saying…” He hesitates. “I want to know more about you. I want to know what makes you tick. And—” he pauses again, his eyes glued to my lips “—I want to kiss you. To know if your lips are as soft as they seem.”
All air swishes out of my lungs, as though it’s just been knocked out of me. He’s waiting for my permission, I realize. “Is that a good idea?”
“Only one way to find out.”
His hand moves to the back of my nape, pulling me softly to him, and then his mouth meets mine in a slow, delicious kiss. Even though his lips barely brush mine, the electric jolt running through me is all-consuming. My nerve endings are on fire. My whole body is.