Page 11 of Fifth Avenue Flirt

She groans as if she’s in my head.

We both need coffee.

I grab some boxers and head to the kitchen. I have a state-of-the-art coffee machine, so I set to work making us both cappuccinos.

It’s weird. I’ve never had to make anyone coffee in the morning. Avril’s my first overnight guest since…my parents came to stay last year.

As I’m heading back with a tray, I hear Avril on the phone.

“Worth, I have to go,” she says out of nowhere, just as I’m coming back into the bedroom. She was on the phone to her brother? For a lift? A chat?

“Shit,” she says, as we lock eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I say.

“We’re at your place,” she says. “And I kicked you out of your own bed.”

“Yes and yes. I brought you coffee.”

She winces. “Sorry.” She takes the cup and saucer from me. “This smells excellent and it’s just what I— Holy crap. My dress! What the hell am I going⁠—”

I chuckle and take a seat on the bed. I didn’t really think about Avril getting home last night when I sliced off her dress. “We’ll figure it out.”

“How?” she says.

“I can get a store to deliver something. Or you can wear something of mine.”

“I can’t get into an Uber wearing men’s boxers and a t-shirt without a bra.”

“My driver will take you. Or you could stay.” I raise my eyebrows, teasing her.

“Stay? Forever? A prisoner in your apartment because I have no clothes?”

“Works for me.”

She smiles and it’s beautiful.

She breaks our stare and glances around. “You like to sleep in the pitch black like I do. I couldn’t tell this was your bedroom.”

“And last night was entirely forgettable. I get it.”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night. My brain was fuzzy.”

I lean forward and press a kiss to her blanketed leg. “I forgive you.”

“But seriously, how am I getting out of here? Any of your roster leave clothes behind?”

I take a beat before I respond. I can’t tell if there are questions behind her question.

Who else are you sleeping with?

How many girls have been in the bed I’m lying in?

Am I special?

And I’m not sure if I should answer with a joke or with honesty. But in my experience, honesty usually works best.

“I’ve never brought a woman here,” I say. “So no abandoned women’s clothes, I’m afraid.”