Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“The rest is history,” he says. “As the saying goes.”
I nod. “It’s been different since I started school in London. I lost some of the joy of playing, but I’m finding ways to rediscover it.”
“How?”
“How?” I repeat. “How have I found joy in it again?”
He scratches his chin. “Yes.”
“Not by jumping out of airplanes or parachuting off bridges.” I smile.
His left brow perks. “Your brother has been spreading rumors about me again.”
Laughing, I nod. “Sean texts me updates about his life. I vaguely remember something about you jumping out of an airplane on your twenty-seventh birthday while he waited on solid ground for you. He also told me that you knocked yourself out cold when you parachuted off a bridge.”
“Your brother is an asshole,” he says with a smirk. “Did he fail to mention that I was wearing a helmet when I parachuted off the bridge? It was a mild concussion.”
“It was a death-defying move.” I pat my hand on the table. “One I would never do.”
He edges his elbow closer to mine to give it a push. “Even if I dared you, London?”
“Even then.” I bring the coffee cup to my lips but stop short of taking a drink because my smile is too broad.
“We can start with something safer,” he suggests. “Skateboarding? Riding a bike through midtown?”
“No to both.” I hold up two fingers to accentuate my point. “You asked me how I found joy in playing the piano again. I did that by composing more, not by attempting a backflip off the piano.”
“I’d pay money to see that,” he says with a chuckle. “We all have ways of pushing ourselves to experience certain feelings. I cliff dive in Italy. You create musical masterpieces.”
“Let’s hold off on calling them masterpieces.” I smile. “Most of them are works in progress.”
“Maybe you’ll play one for me sometime.” He finishes the coffee in his cup. “That way, I can judge for myself.”
I nod softly, wondering what it would feel like to do that just for him. “Maybe I will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Harrison
We exchange shopping bags on the sidewalk outside the café. Ava initiated the end of our coffee date. I doubt like hell she’d label it as such since we agreed not to wander down the path we did on her birthday.
I gaze down at the pink bag she handed me. “Does the color complement my suit?”
She takes a step back to rake me from head to toe. “I like the look.”
I like the way she looks. Now that we’re standing face-to-face, I can drink her in. Her choice of clothing is impeccable, but her face and hair do me in. Her delicate features and her big blue eyes are utter perfection. The lightly blowing wind is tossing her blonde waves around her shoulders.
She’s absolutely stunning.
“Thank you again for cleaning the dress.” She looks down at the bag in her hand. “I appreciate it. I didn’t plan to wear it again, but I’m sure I’ll find the right occasion to slip it back on.”
I don’t pursue any details on that because I don’t want to know if she has any dates planned while she’s in the city. She must know many people in Manhattan, including the men she went to high school with. It’s unlikely any of them would treat a woman like her the way she deserves.
I push that thought from my mind with a heavy exhale.
“Are you headed to work?” She points at the watch on my wrist. “Is it time to be the big bad boss?”
I hold in a laugh. “Is that who you think I am? A big bad boss?”
“The tall, bossy owner of a few companies?” she amends her description with a smile. “Or maybe it’s the towering man in control?”
I’ll be that any day of the week and twice on Sundays for her.
“The last one fits,” I tell her in a low tone. “I enjoy control.”
Her hand darts to the base of her neck, and her lips part slightly, but no words escape her.
“Thank you for the coffee, Ava.”
She looks at the street and the approaching traffic. “You’re welcome, Harry.”
I glance in that direction but spot nothing of significance. I turn back to her. “Are you waiting for a ride? Where are you headed?”
“To a store a block away.” She slides the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I need to pick up some blank sheet music. I’m working on a new composition.”
“I can walk with you,” I offer for no reason other than to steal a few more minutes of her time.
“No.” Her head shakes. “I know the way. You need to go do that control thing you enjoy doing.”
I smile because that resonated with her enough that she mentioned it again. “I’ll do that.”
Her fingers run over her bottom lip, luring my gaze there. “I guess I’ll see you around?”