Page 8 of Ours to Lose
A blast of percussion and cheers flooded the kitchen as the door behind me opened, the countdown from ten carrying in the background. I tucked my phone away and adjusted my headband, not wanting to turn around. Except it was probably a drunk couple who had wandered off, and the one thing sure to make this moment worse was hearing strangers have sex in my kitchen.
I blew out a breath and drew on my customer-service face, then spun and froze as I registered the person in front of me.
Not a stranger.
Gabe.
He towered before me like a Greek sculpture, all power and beauty captured in sharp lines and tan skin with broad muscles Zeus himself would probably find some envy for. Somehow not in London at all but standing beside my prep bench mere feet away.
His soft blue eyes landed on me, made softer by his growing smile, the kitchen’s fluorescent lights shining off his silky blond hair and comfy-looking sweats.
Seeing him, the twisted vines inside me loosened, and the frenzied energy of the night—every spike of adrenaline and emotion from the past six hours—narrowed to a single burning impulse.
I didn’t ask what he was doing here when his flight wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow night. I didn’t ask how he’d known where to find me or if he was hungry. I didn’t ask if he wanted to see the ball drop.
I didn’t ask him anything.
I closed the five steps between us and kissed him.
Chapter Two
Gabe
I’d only been knockedout once in my boxing career, the first year I’d gone pro. One second, I was on my feet getting ready to swing, and the next, I woke flat on my back with the world spinning around me, no clue who I was or how I got there, trying to remember how to speak.
That was how it felt to have Aubrey’s lips pressed to mine.
One second, I was taking her in from across the room for the first time since my mom’s funeral, and the next, I was dizzy with that coconut scent of hers in my head, the sweet taste of her on my tongue, her hands clasped around my neck to tug my mouth to hers.
Letting her wasn’t a decision so much as a calling.
I followed it, letting my fingers graze her cheek as I met her halfway. My palm settled against the soft skin below her jaw, and I hurried to obey the demand of her lips, both gentle but determined as her fingers scraped the base of my neck, trying to thread through my short strands.
It awoke every cell in my body. Her scent invaded my senses, my skin buzzing where we touched, and her arm tightened around me, spurring me to tug her hips forward to eliminate the space between us.
She let out a soft noise as our bodies connected, then rose on her toes and pressed closer, and all thought flew from my mind. There was nothing except me and her, my tongue finding hers as she opened for me on a moan and yanked my shoulders lower.
Holy shit, she felt good. Her warmth radiated through my hoodie, and I slid my hands over her chef jacket to palm her ass, my fingers flexing in a gentle squeeze. Her sound of pleasure echoed off the stainless steel appliances, driving my body hotter until I had her pressed against the wall with my thigh between her legs, nearly lifting her off the ground.
When I’d offered a New Year’s kiss, this wasn’t what I’d pictured. My mind had played out something quiet and sweet, the way Aubrey so often had been around me growing up. But the urgent roll of her hips as she practically climbed my torso to take what she wanted was something else entirely.
It had me one second from lifting her for real—wrapping her thighs around my hips and grinding my stiff cock right against her heat.
I would have if the sound of glass shattering didn’t jerk me from the moment. My head snapped up as I shifted to block her body from view despite us being fully clothed.
Drunken taunts came from the hallway beyond the kitchen door as whoever dropped the glass laughed it off with their friends and moved on. My heart rate eased to normal.
At least, until I looked at Aubrey.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
Her blond hair was pulled into a bun, a navy bandanna keeping the wisps from her face so all I could see were her big hazel eyes staring up at me as she caught her breath. Her pink lips were swollen, the skin around her mouth red from the scrape of my stubble—there’d been no time to shave after the eight-hour flight from London. Seeing it gave me a sick satisfaction.
I hadn’t originally planned to get here by midnight. The goal had been to surprise her by coming home a day early so I could make her big catering debut, but then she told me how she’d never had a New Year’s kiss, and my plans had changed again.
I’d been more eager than I probably should have to make the offer. It turned out, she’d beat me to it. I wasn’t complaining.
I flashed her an easy smile. “Happy New Year.”
