Satisfied, I squeeze Ava's waist. "Now, if you'll excuse us," I say easily, already steering her away, "I believe I owe my girlfriend a dance."
I don't wait for a response.
By the time we reach the dance floor, the irritation rolling off Ava is almost palpable.
"That was unnecessary," she mutters, but she doesn't move away as I pull her in, her body warm against mine.
I flash a grin, unrepentant. "You looked like you needed saving."
Her fingers press lightly against my shoulder, a touch that's more reflex than resistance. "I don't."
"I know." My voice drops. "Doesn't mean I won't do it anyway."
She doesn't respond right away. Instead, she lets me sway her across the floor, her breathing even, her fingers grazing the fabric of my jacket.
"You didn't have to say that," she says quietly after a moment.
But the truth is, I did.
Because I don't like the idea of anyone—even Ava herself—thinking she's anything less than formidable.
So instead of answering, I pull her closer, my hand pressing against the small of her back, fingers grazing the delicate zipper of her dress.
And then, because this is still a game—a dangerous, intoxicating game—I lean in and murmur against her ear, "You do realize you're in my arms right now, dancing at a charity gala like we're in some kind of romance novel."
She lets out a quiet laugh. "Fake dating, remember?" she teases. "Have to sell it."
Oh, I'm selling it, all right.
I guide her through another slow turn, letting my thumb brush against the bare skin of her back. "So," I murmur, lips barely brushing the shell of her ear, "how am I doing?"
She exhales sharply.
And then, because Ava Bennett never lets me win, she lifts her chin and looks me right in the eye.
"Solid seven out of ten," she says, deadpan.
I bark out a laugh. "You're impossible."
"I know."
The song winds down, and I finally release her, ignoring the way my hands feel wrong when they're not on her.
As we leave the dance floor, I catch the way people watch us. Really watch us. Our act is working.
And so, because I can't resist, because I know we have an audience, I pull Ava against me one last time, my lips at her ear.
Loud enough for just the right people to hear, I murmur, "You're mine, Bennett."
I'm sure that by tomorrow, half the town, including the Bennett brothers, will know Ava Bennet and I are dating.
5
AVA
The gala is over.
Liam follows me into my apartment like he belongs here. Like this is just a normal night and not the aftermath of whatever the hell that was back at the gala.