Over the next few days, Emily reluctantly unpacked the rest of her belongings that had arrived late from a hold up at the shipping company. Tonight, if it killed her, she would clear out the last of the items. Olivia helped her sift through years of memories. Those memories were all Emily had left, and she clung to them like they were her last heartbeats. The final item in the box took the breath from her, tightening her chest and spinning her emotions out of control. Sighing, Emily slumped on her bed, clinging to a photo showcasing the proud smile of her mother at her high-school graduation. The barrier that she had fought so hard to build over the last few months broke, and the tears came tumbling down. The reality of what had happened - the unwavering fact that she would never see her mother again - hit her hard in that moment.
Sadness clouded Olivia's eyes as she watched her friend crumble. "I don't know what to say, Emily. I wish I could take this pain and hurt away from you."
Unblinking, Emily reached out her hand, taking Olivia's in her own. She was thankful that she had her there. The two friends shared a few minutes, neither saying a word, knowing nothing more could be said.
Standing up, Emily cast a withering smile at her and hastily wiped the tears from both their cheeks. She gave Olivia a hug and sauntered to the bathroom. She was exhausted - not only mentally but also physically. Working three doubles in a row, the last few days caught up with her, and she was looking forward to a relaxing evening on the couch with Dillon. Making her way into the shower, she tried to purge her mind of anything that had to do with her mom. It was difficult, but nonetheless, she did it. Once out, she slid into a pair of comfortable pajamas and set herself up on the couch with a glass of much-needed wine.
After a while, Olivia walked into the living room, wearing a red summer dress with her hair pinned-up off her shoulders and a clutch in her hand.
She eyed Emily, hopeful. "Just come out with Tina and me tonight. It will do justice to your mood."
Giving Olivia a smile, Emily thought about her friend's new love endeavor, Tina Reed, a twenty-four-year-old graduate of Columbia University. Having been burned by too many men in her past, Olivia swore them off for the time being, deciding women might suit her better.
Sighing, Emily tossed her hand through her hair. "I really just want to relax the night away." She picked up the bottle of red wine and smiled. "I plan on polishing this off, too."
Olivia placed a kiss on top of her head. "Okay, but if for some reason you change your mind, just call my cell."
Emily nodded, and Olivia walked out the door.
Glancing at the clock, Emily noted it was a quarter past ten. Knowing that Dillon should've been there already, she wondered if another late night meeting had held him up. Her thoughts didn't stray too far when her phone rang a half hour later. It was Dillon calling to announce that he was celebrating a new account out at a club in SoHo. He insisted that she meet him down there. Emily tried to argue that she was exhausted and already settled in for the night, but he wouldn't relent, his dissatisfaction traveling through the phone. Letting out a sigh, Emily succumbed to his demand, dragged herself into her room, and prepared for an evening out despite her emotional and physical state.
It can't be her, Gavin thought to himself, adjusting his eyes across the dimly lit club. He rubbed his palm over his face, staring in her direction. It was though. Molly - the waitress that never called him. Molly - the waitress that tugged at every sense, every fiber, and every male instinct in his body. Molly - the waitress that looked more ravishing now than he could've ever imagined. Gavin watched as she moved across the club, making her way through the endless bodies pressed against each other.
His eyes feasted upon her long auburn hair that spilled over her shoulders onto a tight black dress that fell just above her knees. The perfect amount of cleavage and neck burned a hole into his mind, awakening the undeniable primal urge he had to claim her. His eyes devoured her legs - sleek, long, and shapely - that came to a rest in black heels. Raking his hands through his hair, Gavin couldn't help but feel the quickening in his heart as she approached.
He went to move toward her, talk to her, breathe in her scent, but a modest cough from Dillon reluctantly broke his gaze from hers.
"I see you looking, Blake, but she's mine," Dillon remarked, a crooked smile twisting his lips.
Gavin's mouth fell open as if to speak, but nothing came out. His blue eyes swung over to the beautiful woman who had invaded his world a few days ago and then shifted back to Dillon.
"Wait, that's...Emily?" Gavin asked, palpable confusion taking over his face.
"Yeah, man. I told you she was fucking gorgeous." Dillon motioned for Emily to hurry up where she seemed to be frozen and rooted in one spot a few feet away.
Gavin took a long pull from his beer, a lump forming in his throat as he leaned himself against the bar. Unable to look away, he maintained eye contact with the woman that his friend just proclaimed was his.
Chewing on her lip, Emily tried to keep her panic at bay when she saw Mr. Tall, Dark, and Fuckable Handsome with Dillon. The air seemed to shift thick. Her balance was knocked askew with every step.
There's no way they could possibly know each other. This is Manhattan for Christ's sake, Emily thought to herself.
Each beat of her heart pounded harder the closer she got. A curious yet boyish smile rounded Gavin's lips as a kiss of a dimple indented itself on his cheek. His piercing blue eyes were intense, unblinking in her direction. Emily's gaze flicked down to his chest, the planes of his pectorals visible under his shirt. If it were possible, he looked even more handsome, relaxed in his casual attire of a black, V-neck T-shirt and jeans that hung perfectly on his waist. His eyes seemed to delve into her and smother every bit of oxygen from her lungs. Taking a long cleansing breath with sweat beading on her brow, Emily approached the two men, trying to focus solely on Dillon.
Dillon pulled her by the waist into his body and placed an exaggerated kiss on her lips.
After ordering her a drink, Dillon shifted her in front of him, positioning her back against his chest. She had center view of the stranger when Dillon finally spoke. "Gavin, this is my girlfriend, Emily Cooper. Emily, Gavin Blake."
Unable to pull his eyes from hers, Gavin reached down tentatively, drawing her hand to his lips. Kissing it softly, he hesitated, almost absorbing the heat that radiated from her skin. Reluctantly, he finally let go. "The pleasure's most definitely all mine, Emily."
Inwardly marveling at the way Gavin's slight stubble felt against her knuckles, Emily gave a curt nod and smiled. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Dillon asked, looking over to Gavin.
Averting her gaze to the floor, Emily flushed, embarrassed by the comment. Nonetheless, she grinned, trying to regain her bearings from the shock coursing its way through her body.
Gavin's gaze dropped to her mouth, her ruby red lips fascinating every fucking inch of him. He shifted his eyes back to hers, which were a variation of green melting into gold. Beautiful, he thought to himself.
Drawing his lower lip roughly through his teeth, Gavin let his words hang. "You're a very lucky man, Dillon."
Dillon nodded in agreement, tossing back the last of his whiskey on the rocks. "Come dance with me, babe." He caught Emily by her hips and dragged her out to the dance floor.
Knowing she shouldn't, Emily risked a glance back to Gavin as they walked away.
Gavin tried to maintain his cool when she peered over her shoulder to look back at him. He watched the way Dillon held her close and the irrefutable loving way she responded to him. He watched the way she stared into Dillon's eyes, giving him her undivided attention. Ordering another beer, Gavin fought back the urge to walk onto the dance floor, knock his friend out, and pull her into his arms.
As if his mind couldn't register anyone else in the club, Gavin brushed off countless women who approached him. He knew he was in uncharted territory and that his thoughts were irrational, considering Dillon was a close friend, but he felt as if Emily had a sick pull on him. These new unknown surges of emotions had him at odds with his body and mind.
And Gavin didn't like it one bit.
Eventually, Dillon walked up to Gavin when Emily disappeared into the restroom. He leaned against the bar, a reverent smile breaking out across his face. "Wishing you were me, buddy?"
Gavin couldn't help feeling a stab of jealousy, but this wasn't something he was about to confess. "I'm just wondering how you pulled that one off."
It wasn't a question but a statement on Gavin's part. Dillon usually hung with crowds of women that were far wilder than Emily seemed to be.
Dillon threw his head back and laughed as he ordered a shot of tequila. "You seem to think you're the only god in this city."
"I'm no god, Dillon, and you're certainly not either," Gavin remarked, propping his arm on the rolled leather edge of the bar. "But I do know that you need to take care of a woman like that."
Dillon started flexing his hips back and forth. "Oh, I'm taking care of it. She has no complaints whatsoever in that department."
"I didn't mean it like that," Gavin snapped, trying to rid the thought from his mind. He then smoothed his voice out to a calmer tone. "Be good to her, seriously."
Cocking his head to the side, Dillon furrowed his brows. "Since when did you become so worried about how I treat a woman Mr. Non-Commitment? You fuck anything that throws itself at you, and they're lucky if they get a call the next day."
"We're not talking about me," Gavin said, drawing a bottle of beer to his mouth. "Like I said, take care of her."
"Gavin Blake's trying to teach me how to treat a woman. This is hysterical." He swallowed his drink and slammed the glass down on the bar. "I'm marrying this one. You'll see. Just to torture you, you're going to be in the wedding party." Dillon shook his head and laughed but recovered quickly as his expression tightened. "Like I said earlier, she's mine. You get enough everywhere you go."
Before Gavin could respond, Emily approached them.
Dillon handed her a beer, and she smiled. "Thanks. So what are you guys talking about?"
Gavin figured he would play a little game, considering he knew Dillon was taunting him. His eyes concentrated on the exact curve of Emily's jaw before locking his eyes on hers. "I'm just wondering how my friend here landed such a beautiful woman. He's obviously out of his league."
Emily could feel the way Gavin stared at her. His eyes seemed to sink into her, making her want to bare every emotion and every secret.
What a dangerous talent for a man's eyes to possess, she thought to herself.
She went to speak, but Dillon's voice broke through the deafening level of music. "Fuck you and your comment. Out of my league?"
Gavin laughed mischievously as he casually sank into a seat at the bar. "Yes, very out of your league."
A grin curled Dillon's lips. "Whatever makes you sleep better tonight, man, but she's the one leaving with me." Dillon glanced down at an incoming text and then turned to Emily where she stood inwardly mortified at the conversation taking place. "Trevor's on his way, babe. I need to use the restroom, but don't let this clown fool you while I'm gone. He's a player."
He dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek and walked away.
Gavin watched Emily carefully, silence stretching between them as she sipped her beer. He felt her eyes on him, giving nervous little looks that tugged at every rational instinct he had left. Each time her gaze met his, he wanted to sink into it and live in it forever. He wondered if she felt the connection that had passed between them when he kissed her hand.
He took a long pull from his beer, trying to ease the dryness in his mouth. "So, Molly, are you enjoying New York?"
Knowing that one was coming, Emily let out a laugh. "Yes, I am actually, stalker boy. Thanks for asking."
"I'm really not a stalker or a player, honestly," he said, chuckling at the nickname she gave him.
"The stalker part may be questionable," she laughed and so did Gavin. "But, I have to be honest, I've heard otherwise about you being a player."
Emily bit her lip, realizing how horribly offensive those last words must've sounded. Even so, now knowing who he was, it was the truth. Olivia told her stories of Dillon's rich friend, Gavin, being a ladies' man. She also warned Emily that once she met him, it would take everything in her not to rip off her shirt and watch the buttons scatter on the floor, along with every sexual inhibition following behind them.
Yep, completely fuckable.
Shifting in his seat, Gavin flashed a smile. "And who did you hear that from?"
"Olivia Martin."
"Mmm, you must not know her that well then," he replied, motioning for the bartender to bring them another round.
"Let's see. She was my roommate in college, and I live with her now." She smiled. "I consider her a pretty reliable source, but hey, to each his own."
"Forgive me and my horrible memory. That's right; that's right. You're Emily and not Molly," he laughed, tossing a hand through his hair. "Of course you know Olivia."
She smiled. "Yes, my real name is Emily. We've established that, but how come I have a feeling you might never let me live that one down?"
A delicious grin slid across his lips. "Ah-ha, I may or may not. But that's for me to know, and you to find out." They both laughed, seeming to relax a bit around one another. "So what else did Olivia say about me?"
"Ah-ha, that's for me to know, and you to find out."
Amused by her quick-witted response, Gavin hung his head and laughed. His features softened as he stared into her eyes. "But, in my defense, the whole player thing's a misconception. I just haven't found the right woman yet."
"Well, there seems to be an awful lot of ladies trying to get your attention right now." With the sweep of her hand, Emily gestured toward a group of women at the end of the bar that were noticeably glancing in his direction. "Pretty decent pick if you ask me."
Although he tried, he couldn't pull his eyes away from her. He stared at Emily, wanting to let her know - again - the only woman he wanted was already with his friend. "Unfortunately, most of them are only interested in one thing."
Confusion knitted her brows. "Isn't that what all guys want anyway?"
"Not quite, but I like the way you think," he laughed, studying the way she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. He liked it more than he should. "No, seriously though, I don't want to come off like a conceited ass, but there's a fine line between me and my money."