Page 21 of Ava After Midnight

“What if I don’t know what I want?” The confession slips out before I can catch it. “Everything used to be so clear. Graduate college, land a corporate job, marry the right guy, make everyone proud.”

“And now?” He closes the space between us, and suddenly, I’m surrounded—by him, by the lingering bite of chlorine, the rich warmth of coffee, and something deeper, something that makes my pulse stutter.

“Now?” I laugh, but it comes out shaky. “Now I’m sitting in an overpriced Airbnb with a stranger who makes me feel more alive than my fiancé ever has.”

“We’re not strangers anymore,princesa.” His hands brace on the counter on either side of my thighs, caging me in without touching. “I know how the catch of your breath sounds when I get close. How your hips move to bachata before your brain catches up. How you bite your lip when you’re fighting what you really want.”

As if on cue, I release my lower lip from between my teeth.

His eyes track the movement.

“See?” His voice drops lower, rougher. “Not strangers at all.”

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I challenge, desperate to shift his focus before I combust. “Something real.”

Domingo exhales slowly, like he’s debating whether to actually give me the truth.

“Something real?” His voice is lower now, rougher. “When I was nine, I used to sneak onto the roof of myabuelo’sshop to watch the city lights. He caught me once, didn’t even yell. Just handed me a beer and said, ‘If you’re going to be reckless, at least enjoy the view.’”

I let that sink in. “Did you?”

His lips curve, but there’s something distant in his eyes. “For a while. Then life got bigger, and the view didn’t seem so limitless anymore.”

Domingo’s fingers trail lightly up my arm, a slow, measured caress that steals my breath.

“Wanna know something else,princesa?” He leans in, his breath warm against my jaw. “I haven’t let myself want anythingin years. But right now?” His lips ghost over my skin, not quite kissing, just enough to drive me insane. “Te quiero tanto que duele. Lo quiero todo de ti, aunque no debería.”

My stomach tightens, heat rushing through me at his words.I want you so badly it hurts. I want all of you, even though I shouldn’t.

A breath shudders out of me. “Then take me.”

His eyes darken. “Not yet.” His thumb drags over my bottom lip. “But when I do?Vas a rogarme por más.”

My thighs clench instinctively. My stomach flips, stirring a need sharp enough to leave me dizzy. I swallow, but it doesn’t help.

He’s not wrong.

If I let him touch me the way we both want?—

I will beg. And I won’t even be ashamed of it.

Chapter Six

DOMINGO

Thunder rumbles in the distance—a warning, advising against our hedonistic plans—as I watch Ava move through the Airbnb, her fingers grazing the walls with the same grace and lightness they traced my skin earlier. There’s something hypnotic about the way she moves. She’s unhurried, confident enough to take up space, beautiful enough to own the moment.

Her phone buzzes again; it’s Matthew’s twentieth call in an hour. She doesn’t flinch anymore, just lets it ring, its vibration nothing more than static in the space between us. But I see the name flashing on the screen: Matthew Reynolds in bold, clinical letters, no heart, no nickname—just a name. No warmth, no affection. The default contact photo glares back at me, an old corporate headshot, stiff and lifeless. The kind of man who doesn’t get his hands dirty, who thinks control is the same as love. Something about it pisses me off more than it should.

“There’s a whole wing we haven’t explored,” she calls over her shoulder as she walks, disappearing down the dim hallway.

I follow because I can’t not follow. She’s gravity, and I’m falling—fast, reckless, knowing the impact will shatter us both.

“Holy shit.” Her voice, filled with reverence, pulls me into the room. “Domingo, you need to see this.”

The door opens to heaven—or hell, depending on how strong my self-control is. Beyond it, there’s a professional dance studio, complete with mirrored walls and floating hardwood floor. The kind of space I used to live in before my knee betrayed me.

Before my body made the choice I wasn’t brave enough to.

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