Page 74

I didn’t need another chance to change my mind. With a desperate sound in my throat, I closed the last few centimetres separating us.

My lips crashed into his, and for now, I let myself forget about the fear and uncertainty from the past few days.

Luke kissed me back just as hard, his arms slipping around my waist and lifting me onto my toes. He didn’t take over or pull back. Just matched my pace, the same way he did everywhere else, right there with me.

My hands rose to his face, the roughness of his stubble scraping my palms. A groan rumbled in his throat, and I arched against him, nothing but our rushed breaths between us.

Luke sank one hand into my hair, tingles rushing across my scalp as he held onto me. The other cupped my chin, tilting my head upward, then his tongue slid against mine with one slow, sensual sweep.

I held on as the kiss turned messy and breathless and—

The door handle rattled.

My lungs burned as I dragged in air. For a moment, I couldn’t move, still too caught up in the heat of him.

It had to be a resident. No one outside the building could have known we were here.

I dropped my hand from Luke’s chest, fingers trembling as they fell to my side.

The handle jerked again.

Luke rubbed his thumb across my lower lip, his eyes still blazing as they met mine.

He pressed the softest kiss on my mouth and murmured, “If we’re quiet, they’ll go away.”

A rapid knock came just as I tried to claim his lips again.

“I know you’re in there,” a man’s voice said through the door. “I heard you come up.”

“Or not.” Luke sighed, his posture turning tense.

Back to survival. Again.

“Door,” the voice said. “Now.”

Luke gave me a tortured look, then crossed the room in two strides, stopping short of opening the door. “Who’s this?” he called.

“You stole my line,” the man said, his tone dry. “Look, you’re in Sadie’s place, and it was locked when she left. Any chance you’re with the person I’ve been waiting for?”

Luke glanced back at me.

“Ava?” the man asked.

With a rush of adrenaline, I rested my palm against my chest. “Yes?”

“Jesus Christ,” he said, the tension seeping out of his voice. “You’re here? Already?”

Twenty

luke

Pickaxe in hand, I yanked the door open and faced the man waiting on the other side.

He flinched and raised his weapon—a hammer with a sharpened tip—planting one foot forward and the other back. A surprised huff left him, then he lowered the hammer. “Well, hi.”

I leaned out into the hall, checking the space on either side of the door. “Hi.”

He looked to be in his late thirties, with a ginger beard and a matching buzz cut. A stocky guy with intense blue eyes that probably never missed a thing. His attention shifted past me into the apartment, but he wouldn’t see much with me blocking the doorway.