by Aven Ellis
I’m so stunned I can’t even speak. Harrison wanted to give me a studio. A real sewing studio. Tears well in my eyes and I rapidly try to blink them back. Nobody has ever believed in my talent like this.
Including myself.
“I was going to talk to the architect about it tomorrow,” Harrison continues. “I really wanted to give that to you. You deserve it, Kylie.”
That did it. Now I start crying.
Harrison looks alarmed. “What, Kylie? Why are you crying?”
“I . . . That is something for a real designer,” I whisper as Harrison’s face becomes blurry through my tears. “I just sew aprons, Harrison.”
“And you could sell them if you believed enough in your own talents to put them out there,” Harrison says firmly.
“Maybe in the future, when I have had more time to perfect them,” I say quietly.
“Kylie,” Harrison says, putting his hands on my face and staring deeply into my eyes, “Your future is now. Believe in your gift. I wouldn’t give you the studio space if I didn’t believe in you.”
Tears splash down my cheeks. “You . . . you’re the only person who has ever believed in my dream.”
Harrison gently brushes my tears away. “I believe in you. I want you to have that studio to get a line together for a trial run on Etsy. You’re crazy talented, Kylie. Use your talents. Not tomorrow, but today. Don’t use the future as a safety shield. Please don’t deny yourself your dream out of fear of failing. Because you won’t fail. You won’t.”
I draw a shaky breath of air as I realize he has just nailed the reason I keep planning for the future instead of doing what I dream of now—fear of failure.
“How do you know the real me, Harrison?” I ask quietly. “How are you such a psychologist?”
“I do know you,” Harrison says gently. “I can’t explain it, but I do. I also know that when I look into your eyes this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
My heart jumps wildly inside my chest. He feels it, too, I think excitedly. Harrison feels it, too.
Suddenly my mind flips back to Josh, my first love, my first everything. The man I thought I would spend my life with. When Josh broke up with me, I was devastated. How would I ever care about another man? The thought of anyone else being intimate with me—touching me, kissing me, having sex with me—made me physically ill.
I swore I would never love anyone the way I loved Josh.
But now I know exactly why things didn’t work out with Josh.
They didn’t work out with Josh because he wasn’t Harrison Flynn.
Because right now, as I stare into Harrison’s eyes, I know I’m falling in love with the man I’m truly meant to be with.
Harrison pulls me into his chest and cradles me, gently kissing the top of my head. “Take the studio, Kylie,” Harrison murmurs softly.
“I’ll take it,” I say, turning and looking up at him, “only if you promise to utilize the guest house, too. We’ll make it multi-purpose.”
“Okay,” Harrison says, brushing his lips lightly against mine. “Deal.”
I melt into him, kissing him sweetly. Then Harrison breaks the kiss.
“I suppose I should go.”
He gets up to leave. Suddenly my idea of sending him off to the hotel doesn’t feel right. I walk with Harrison to my door. Harrison pulls me to him and we kiss again.
Harrison bends down and nuzzles the side of my face. “Thank you for being you,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m so lucky to have found you, Kylie. So lucky.”
As I feel his warm skin pressed against mine, and hear the tenderness in his voice when he talks about finding me, I know what I want. I want to be with him, in every sense of the word. I don’t care that it hasn’t been that long since I’ve known him. I don’t care that he hasn’t told me he loves me.
This is something I would never dream of doing before, of sleeping with a man so quickly. I’m cautious. I don’t rush into things. Fear holds me back. I have only been with one man, and that was Josh.
But Harrison has changed everything. And tonight I refuse to let caution get in the way of what my heart is telling me to do.
Harrison opens the door to go.
I quickly put my hand on his.
“No,” I say, stopping him. “I don’t want you to go to the hotel without me.”
“What?” Harrison says, furrowing his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Take me back to the hotel with you, Harrison,” I say softly. “I want to spend the night with you.”
Chapter 15
The Pop Quiz Question: When is it the right time to sleep with someone?
A) Whenever I want. I’m a grown woman with physical needs.
B) I’m old-fashioned. Waiting is important. Making love to a man comes with commitment.
C) When my heart tells me to.
Harrison stares at me with a stunned expression on his face.
“What?” he whispers, his eyes quickly searching mine.
I suddenly get nervous. “I . . . I want to spend the night with you. I want to be with you, Harrison. In every way.”
Harrison shuts the door. He turns to me and puts his hands on my face.
“Kylie,” he says slowly, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I am. I don’t think this is a good idea tonight.”
I freeze. Harrison doesn’t want to have sex with me? Does he think I’m a slut? Is this way too fast? Did I make a wrong move by initiating it for the first time? Too aggressive? He’s a professional athlete. Maybe he likes to be the initiator . . .
My mind is reeling trying to make sense of his answer.
Suddenly I’m struck with the worst thought of all. What if Harrison likes me, but his attraction to me isn’t at that sexual level yet?
Oh God, this is mortifying! If he’s trying to figure out how to be attracted to the good girl, if Harrison isn’t feeling the sexual chemistry like I am, I’ll die. I think I really will die.
Harrison continues to stroke my face, his thumbs tracing gently over my cheekbones.
“We’ve been through a lot today,” he says slowly. “I don’t want your emotions to confuse what you really want, Kylie.”
I stare at him. “But—”
“I can’t take that chance,” Harrison says, brushing his lips against my forehead. “You deserve better than that. I don’t want to rush into anything that you might regret later. That you might have decided to sleep with me based on emotions that were high to begin with.”
I swallow hard, saying nothing.
“And if you think I don’t want this as much as you do,” Harrison says, stroking the nape of my neck with his fingertips as he presses his forehead to mine, “you’re dead wrong. I do want you, Kylie. But the timing has to be right. Too much is riding on this for me for it to be wrong.”
I draw a shaky breath of air. I’m still embarrassed, but when I look into his eyes, I know Harrison is telling me the truth.
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “Okay.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I do believe you. I . . . I’m just embarrassed for suggesting it in the first place. I’m . . . I’m not easy. Just so you know that.”
“No, no, no,” Harrison says. “I’ve never thought that about you. Ever. I know you, remember? I know you.”
“You do know me,” I whisper as I rest my hands on his shirt. “More than anyone ever has.”
“Then we’ll wait,” Harrison says, taking a step back from me.
My heart can’t believe I’m so lucky. Harrison cares about me so much that he wants to wait to sleep with me.
Of course, the irony is, he’s such a gentleman and respectful that it makes me want to have sex with him even more than before.
I look up at my amazing man and speak from my heart. “We’re good, Harrison.”
Harrison leans forward and brushes his lips against mine in an innocent kiss. “I should go now.”
I reluctantly watch as he opens the door again. Harrison turns to me and kisses me again.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he whispers.
“Goodnight,” I whisper back.
Then he turns and goes out the door.
I exhale loudly and shut the door, flipping the lock.
My mind is reeling with what just happened. Harrison declined sex because I’m important to him. Because he wants to make sure my heart is in the right place, because Harrison thinks we need to make sure everything is emotionally stable before taking us to the next level.
I slowly walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water. All of this is rolling around in my brain, and I still can’t believe how much thought Harrison puts into anything that has to do with me. He’s careful, I think, taking a sip of water. He is very protective and cautious with me.
Suddenly there is a loud rap on my door, which scares the crap out of me. I jump in shock, and then I hear Harrison’s voice calling my name.
“Kylie!”
My heart leaps inside my chest. I put the bottle of water down on the countertop and hurry to the door. I flip the lock and Harrison is immediately all over me, kissing me wildly. His mouth is urgently moving against mine, he’s walking me backward into the living room, his hands are tangling through my hair.
“I can’t,” Harrison murmurs against my mouth, “be a gentleman. I . . . should . . .”
Heat sears through me as his mouth burns against mine in a hot, desperate kiss.
“You are,” I gasp in between kisses. “You are.”
“I want you,” he murmurs again. “Tonight.”
Now his hands are skimming over my arms, down to the waist of my fit and flare navy dress, stroking my waist.
“I want this,” I whisper between kisses. “I want you.”
Harrison takes me and pushes me up against a wall. We’re kissing and touching each other, and I’ve never wanted a man to make love to me like I want Harrison to right now.
Harrison breaks the kiss. “I’m selfish,” he says, “but I want you so badly I can’t be good. As soon as I shut the door I knew I had to come back. I have to make love to you.”
Every nerve in my body is burning now with an intensity I have never, ever felt in my life. “I want the same thing, Harrison. I have to be with you, too.”
Then his mouth reclaims mine passionately.
I’m lost in him. I feel his hands climbing up my ribcage. We are not even coming up for air as we kiss. Oh God. This could happen right here. Right now—
Wait. This can’t happen here, I think quickly. Gretchen is coming home any minute from her Monday night barre class.
I break the kiss and shake my head. “No,” I gasp. Then I push him back lightly with my hand. “We can’t. Not here.”
“What?” he gasps, cupping my face in his strong hands. “What’s wrong?”
“Gretchen,” I say, breathing hard, “is due home any minute.”
Recognition flickers in his eyes. “Roommate. Right.”
“We can’t be alone here,” I say regretfully.
“We can be alone at my hotel suite.”
“Yes,” I whisper back as I rake my hands through his ginger curls.
He gives me another steamy kiss. “Let’s get your things.”
I break the kiss and look at him, stroking the nape of his neck with my fingers as I do. “Why don’t you let me get ready and I’ll meet you there instead? I want this to be perfect. I want to look beautiful for you.”
“How can you look more beautiful than you already are?”
My heart flutters from his words. “Harrison, I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Okay,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine.
“Good things come to those who wait. I promise.”
Harrison lifts his head and stares at me. “Meet me in an hour?”
“Yes,” I say, touching his face.
Harrison reaches into his pocket and hands me a hotel key card. “Penthouse suite. One hour. Don’t be longer than that because I don’t think I can wait a second more to be with you.”
I nod and take the key. He kisses me again and then dashes out the door.
And I prepare to spend the night with Harrison Flynn.
I gather myself outside of Harrison’s penthouse suite at a chic Dallas hotel. Here I am, overnight bag in hand, standing at his door.
This is it, Kylie, I think to myself. You’re going to sleep with Harrison Flynn tonight.
I have a million butterflies dancing around in my stomach. He’s slept with actresses. Models. Will I measure up? It’s not like I have loads of experience in this department anyway . . .
Stop it, I will myself. Harrison wants this just as much as you do. And he knows my past. Just like I know his.
I exhale and glance down at my outfit. I have chosen a smart sleeveless silk blouse, one that is a beautiful bright pink with a zipper down the front. It is a fashion forward turn for me—and something a little different than the retro-inspired clothes I normally wear.
I want him to think I’m sexy, I think anxiously.
I paired the top with skinny white jeans and sandals with flower embellishments for a summery look. I have a gorgeous hammered silver bangle bracelet adorned with quartz on my left wrist as my only accessory.
I take the key card out of my tiny Louis Vuitton cross-body bag and hesitate before sliding it into the door lock. I might be nervous about what Harrison thinks. I might be excited and anxious about what is about to happen.
But I have zero doubt that this is what I want to do. None. I want to make love with this man, and this man only.
With that thought in my head, I slide the key card into the lock. The panel lights up and the green light comes on, signaling the door is unlocked.
I turn the lock and step through the door. “Harrison?” I call out, heading inside. I put my bag down on the floor, and rest my purse on top of it.
For a moment I am distracted by the size of the suite. It’s huge. Like twice the size of my entire apartment. There’s a large U-shaped sofa in front of me, chocolate brown and sleek and modern. Oversized leopard print fabric ottomans serve as coffee tables. There are huge vases on the end tables, filled with exotic flowers.
The living area leads to another room where I see a pool table. One that is in front of ceiling-to-floor windows that overlook downtown Dallas.
But I don’t care about the pool table or the view. Because my eyes are on Harrison, who is sexily leaning against the pool table.
Waiting for me.
Oh Jesus. I draw a sharp breath of air. He’s wearing a sage green long-sleeved shirt and another pair of perfectly fitted jeans.
You are so beautiful, Harrison, I think in awe. And I can’t believe I’m going to be with you tonight.
He slowly moves toward me, his green eyes locked on mine. Then he stands in front of me, his eyes flickering over me.
“My God, Kylie, you’re so gorgeous,” Harrison whispers, tracing his fingertips through my hair and pushing it behind my ears. “Gorgeous.”
My whole body tingles from the way he is staring at me.
“I promised you I would be worth the wait,” I say softly. I go to wind my hands around his neck, but suddenly I hear a crash. I turn around and my purse has slid off my overnight bag, its contents spilling on to the floor.
“Oops,” I cry. “Let me pick that up.”
I walk over
to the mess on the floor and crouch down to pick up my purse items. I am picking up my makeup when I see that Harrison has grabbed my iPhone.
Suddenly he is laughing.
“You have Prince Harry as your wallpaper?”
I immediately jerk my head up. Oh shit. I just got a text alert, and the Prince Harry wallpaper is visible right there on my phone. And now I want to die of embarrassment.
“Um . . .”
Harrison is grinning at me, his gorgeous, breathtaking, full smile.
The smile he only gives me.
“Funny, some girls have me as their wallpaper. And my girlfriend has Prince Harry.”
I stand up, putting my purse on the entry table. Then I turn to him and smile sheepishly.
“I guess I need to update that,” I say, laughing at myself. “And apparently I have a thing for devastatingly handsome ginger boys named Harry.”
Harrison walks over and reaches behind me, putting my phone on the table next to my purse. “Well, that makes me a lucky man, doesn’t it? That you just happen to be into ginger guys named Harry. Perhaps,” Harrison says, pulling me into his arms, “I can be your Prince Harry tonight.”
