Starry-Eyed Love by Helena Hunting

Author:Helena Hunting
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Is she safe in the apartment?

I debate pretending I didn’t see it, but decide it’s pointless.

We’re going to have a drink on the terrace. She won’t get a tour of my bedroom. She also gave me shit.

Another GIF follows of a woman shoving a man to the ground and dunking a basketball.

She’s got lady balls and you’ve got blue balls. You’re a match made in heaven. Stay strong and don’t let your hormones fuck this up for you.

I send him back the thumbs-up and crossed-fingers emojis. I can only imagine the shit Trent is going to give me tomorrow.

I toss my dress shirt into the closet and pull a worn T-shirt over my head and jab my legs into my favorite pair of jeans.

Once I’m changed, I head to the kitchen and find the bottle of champagne and the mix I requested to be available when we returned from dinner so I can replicate London’s drink. I noticed that she would often reach for it, but then go for her water instead. She also has a habit of rubbing her index and middle finger together, as if she’s antsy and looking for something to do with her hands—like make those tiny puffy stars she seems so fond of.

I’ve just finished making the drink when London calls out hello from the front foyer.

I tell her I’m in the kitchen, and a moment later she appears. I’d like to say that her changing into something comfortable is better, but now she’s wearing a pair of navy leggings and a peach shirt that’s somehow flowy, but also manages to showcase all of her curves. I should probably go light on the scotch, so I don’t make poor choices that will cause me more problems, rather than fewer.

“Oh! Is that the drink I had at dinner?”

“It is. You seemed to enjoy it so I thought you might like another.”

“I loved it! I can’t believe you have the recipe for it. I might need to get it from you for girls’ nights.”

“I can most definitely make that happen.” I drop a whiskey ball into a glass and pour a modest amount of scotch into the glass, then lead London to the terrace. The breeze is warm and the view of the city is accompanied by the bustle of nightlife in the streets below. The lights on the terrace slowly rise, illuminating the lounge chairs.

“This is amazing.” London takes a seat and folds her long legs, tucking her feet under her.

“It is. Very different from Colorado, but this is where I come to relax, when I have the time, anyway.”

“I imagine that’s fairly rare.”

“You would be correct in that assumption.” More rare than I’d like. I take the seat across from her, watching her absorb the sights and sounds.

“Thank you again, Jackson. While the surprises were … surprising, I’ve had a wonderful time and I sincerely appreciate all the opportunities you keep giving us.” Her expression is earnest as she tucks a few windblown strands of hair behind her ear.

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