Page 82 of Manhattan Kiss

I don’t respond, but something inside me clicks into place. I want my closest friend to meet Aurora. I want him to see how special she is.

But is there any point? Creating space for Aurora in my world brings change. Am I just setting up him, Willow, and myself for unnecessary disruption when she leaves?

There’s only one answer—yes.

Ben won’t care, but Willow might. And I know I will.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Aurora

I’m one thousand percent sure I’m setting myself up for trouble, but when I get home from work on Tuesday, all I can think about is how I have the entire evening alone, and Deacon is sitting in his hotel bedroom alone too.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I text him to see if he wants to come round for pizza. I don’t expect deserted New York rooftops and fancy dinners every time I see Deacon. I just want him here. I miss him.

He answers immediately, saying that he’ll be there in a few minutes.

This isn’t a booty call, right? And if it is, is there anything wrong with that? No, in fact it would be better if Deacon and I were just about the sex. I’d know I could walk away, go back to the UK without getting hurt. But I’m not sure that’s possible anymore. I feel myself getting deeper and deeper in with Deacon, and even though I know it can only end in heartache, I can’t stop myself. It’s like I’m going through one-way turnstiles. There’s no way back. I just have to keep moving forward.

I’m still pacing up and down my bedroom when the buzzer goes.

That was fast.

I press the button to let him up and lean back on my front door. My entire life, I’ve just let things happen to me. I ended up in hotel work because that’s where I had my first part-time job. I mooned over my best friend’s brother for years because he was the nearest teenage boy around. New York was about me making decisions for myself and not being so passive. Am I just repeating my mistakes?

But Deacon is far from convenient.

And I called him.

I want him.

A knock on the door makes me jump, and I turn and let Deacon inside.

His oh-so-blue eyes hold mine with such determination that it chases the breath from my lungs.

“Hey,” I say. “I wasn’t sure you’d be free.”

“You’re beautiful.” He steps forward and, in one swift movement, spins us round, cups my face, and presses his lips to mine. It’s needy and passionate, as if he’s been missing me as much as I’ve been missing him.

He steps back. “Hey,” he says. “It’s good to see you.” He’s wearing navy joggers and a white t-shirt that clings to his chest. His hair is ruffled, and he’s sporting his off-duty grin. He looks younger than when he’s wearing a suit, but just as sexy. But Deacon could wear a bin bag and look sexy. It’s who he is to his bones.

“That was quite some hello. Everything okay?”

“It is now I’m here with you.”

My body flushes with heat. “Same,” I say.

He chuckles. “Same?”

I shrug. “You know.” I’m awkward. I’m full of feelings for this man, but it’s all so unexpected and unusual that I don’t know how to express them.

He scoops up my hand and pulls me into the living room. I thought we’d head straight to the bedroom and I’m kinda disappointed. Okay, so maybe this was a booty call.

“I ordered pizza,” he says. “It will be here any minute.”

“Oh,” I say. “You took my invitation to eat pizza very literally,” I say with a smile, as I sit on the sofa.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he says. “I won’t spoil my appetite. I’m going to eat you too.” He shoots me a playful grin that has my insides doing somersaults. I know not many people see the fun, relaxed Deacon, and I feel special that I’m one of those people. It’s a privilege.