Take Me Home by Melanie Sweeney

Author:Melanie Sweeney [Sweeney, Melanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2024-07-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Thirteen

“I wanted you in that dressing room.” His words came breathless and broken in her ear.

Hazel pressed herself shamelessly against him, hooked her hands up over the backs of his broad shoulders and tugged, needing him closer.

“In that bird room the other night,” he went on. “Christ, in that dress that never stays on your shoulder.” He yanked the neck of her sweater over to mouth at the skin beside her bra strap. The soft, velvety warmth and scratch of stubble made her head swim.

A toilet flushed from behind one of the bathroom doors.

Ash buried his face into her shoulder and groaned. “So many better places we could have done this.” Drawing in a slow, deliberate breath, he straightened to search her eyes. His thumbs drew up either side of her neck, the touch melting her even as he gently moved her back a step from him. He was tense all over, fingertips pressing impatiently into the nape of her neck, then releasing.

Hazel wanted to kiss him again for it, for how he showed that he wanted her, for how he wanted it to be right. But she also couldn’t look at him, dread slowly ebbing in.

“You okay?”

She toed up and pressed her lips to his cheek, stalling.

He leaned back on his heels. “Talk to me.” His voice was stronger now, nearly back under control.

She still felt entirely out of control. “You surprised me.”

“A bad surprise?”

“No.” She felt her face flush. “Not bad at all.”

Two young women spilled out of the bathroom, and Ash gave Hazel another foot of space, nodding politely at the pair, who took one look at her, feral and breathless, and giggled. Hazel forced herself not to track their path into the bar, back to the figure that had sent her fleeing down this hall in the first place.

Why hadn’t she dragged him into this dingy, dark corridor to kiss him? She’d wanted to. She’d been so worked up all evening, turned on by his playful teasing, the private brushes of his hand at her back, on her hip, down her arm in the middle of the crowded bar. But it wasn’t her boldness that landed them here. She was a coward through and through, and in a few seconds, he would realize it.

She edged toward the heavy exterior door at the end of the hall. “Is there an alarm on this door?”

He scratched his forehead. “Not sure.”

She gave the bar a tentative push, and cold air licked inside the gap. No alarm.

“Your jacket,” Ash said.

“Don’t need it.”

He reached around her and pulled the door closed. “What’s going on?”

One second was all it took, one quick glance over his shoulder. He froze, didn’t turn back to her.

Hazel tried to be subtle, scooting strategically so his body blocked hers from everyone in the bar. And, more importantly, from Franny Bowman, who had just walked in.

He was silent for a long moment. Then, “Wait, is this why you—” He gestured at the wall they’d been pressed up against, then dragged his palm across his mouth, eyes wide.

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