Page 68 of Love: Take Two

"Shit," he curses. "You're in love with her."

I open my mouth to protest, but it's useless. Iamin love with her. For how long, I couldn't say, but it's there, beneath all the pretense and the bravado and the years of playing it fast and loose.

"Yes," I murmur. "I'm in love with her."

"I'm sorry," he says, his tone somber. "I had no idea it was so serious."

I chuckle at that, my overlong hair falling into my eyes.

"Me either. It kind of…snuck up on me."

Henry smirks.

"It does that sometimes. Then again, none of us are the most self-aware when it comes to matters of the heart."

"Understatement of the century," I scoff.

"So, what will you do? Are you going to tell her?"

I scratch the stubble starting to grow on my face, as if just the thought of sharing my feelings makes me itch.

"Tell her?" I almost squeak. "We're not even dating officially."

Henry levels me with a stern look.

"Well, maybe you fix that first, and then you tell her. Trust me. As someone whose bullshit cost him years apart from the woman who is now my wife, don't wait. If you know what you want, grab hold of it."

I mutter something noncommittal, which Henry accepts. Not because he believes me—Idon't even believe me—but because he knows me. He knows I'll ask for advice, take everything in, and then I'll make my own choice. Fingers crossed it's the right one.

The rest of our lunch is thankfully uneventful. He catches me up on married life. I share a few wins from work. We both order the millefeuille, and Henry covers lunch.

By the time I hail a cab, I feel ten times lighter. And when I open my phone to find a text from Awa asking to meet tonight, I can't stop the goofy grin that forms on my face.

Chapter thirty-five

Awa

He doesn't even say hello when he walks off the elevator. He goes straight for my mouth. His fingers dig into my hip with one hand and pull back on my head with the other, angling me so his tongue can go deeper. Explore my mouth further. The whole time grinding the unmistakable evidence of his arousal against my stomach.

It's like he's as hungry for this as I am.

I'm embarrassed to admit how much I miss him after less than a week apart. Thanks to Tabitha's newfound daredevil tendencies, we've seen each other every day this week. Seen each other—shared a few heated glances across the craft services table, stolen a few touches beneath the makeshift desks of the video village—but not spent time together…after hours. When it's just the two of us and our mutual desire tofind comfort in the other person's body. When he's not Yong-rae's agent and I'm not Tabitha's lawyer.

Tonight's the first time since that first night that our schedules actually lined up.

"How do I open this thing?" he mutters in frustration when he fails to find the hidden zipper of my top.

I laugh and pull his hands away when he looks like he might just rip it.

"Ah ah ah!" I tsk, stepping out of his reach but not the line of his ravenous gaze. "You willnotbe ripping my favorite top."

His bottom lip pokes out, and I giggle at the sight of a grown man pouting. But his expression perks up when my top lands in a heap on the ground and I stand before him in a black mesh bra, black pinstripe pants, and killer black heels. I feel like a seductress, able to bend any man to my will with just the sway of my hips. But I don't want justanyman.

Noah literally wipes his mouth with his sleeve before rushing me, gathering me up in his arms, and biting the sensitive area where my neck meets my shoulder. I cry out and arch my back, bringing my aching core in line with the one thing that will soothe it.

He unfastens the hook of my pants, then pulls them down as he sinks to his knees.

"Spread your legs," he orders once I've kicked the pants from around my ankles.