They watched the sunset and an hour rolled into two, then three as they caught up on the last ten years, silently agreeing to skirt topics touching on their marriage and divorce. He told her about his businesses, about living in New York and London. She told him about her promotion, and how much she wanted the position, her own house, to feel settled. They talked about music and books, touched on politics, and laughed more than they expected.
They ate, sharing a seafood platter and a bottle of wine, and when a cold wind picked up, they moved inside and sat at the bar, Pasco watching as Aisha ate a generous helping of tiramisu. Around eleven, they left the restaurant and dashed across the road to his car, laughing as the wind blew her dress up to her knees and blew her hair into her eyes.
Aisha leaned her head back on the seat as she watched Pasco walk around the bonnet of the car, stopping to slip a homeless man some cash. Then she saw his hand go to the inside pocket of his jacket and he removed his phone. He caught her eyes through the windscreen and held up his finger, asking her to give him a minute.
After nodding, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Despite spending a really lovely evening with Pasco, she had a tension headache behind her eyes. Because Pasco never got sick, she knew he wouldn’t have any paracetamol on him and her stash was in her tote bag, which she’d left at Priya’s place. A stupid move because she knew, from experience, that any time spent with her family resulted in a migraine-like headache.
What a night! She’d known the party would be tough to navigate, but she’d never anticipated having a what-happened-to-us? conversation with Pasco.
She’d certainly never expected him to apologise, and the memory made her feel warm and a little wonderful.
They’d both been wrong, both made mistakes. As an adult, with time between then and now, she could admit that and maybe move on. Honestly, they’d been too young to marry, too impulsive, drunk on desire, and naive in their belief that love could conquer everything.
She was glad they’d addressed the subject, shooed the elephant out of the room. Oh, they both could’ve said more, gone a bit deeper, but they’d covered the important bases. And what would change by doing a deep dive into the past? Precisely nothing.
She wasn’t the same person she was at nineteen—thank God—and she’d seen changes in Pasco as well. Good changes. And wasn’t that the point of life? Growing and changing, acquiring a little more wisdom?
Pasco back then had been balls-to-the-wall, never really slowing down to think, to consider...he’d just set his eyes on a goal and barrelled onward. It seemed to Aisha that Pasco now was more thoughtful, slower to react, to fly off the handle, more considerate. She’d loved him back then, but shelikedhim today, more than she ever had before.
How far he’d come, how far they’dbothcome, was yet to be determined, but what couldn’t be denied was their red-hot attraction. They should deny it, ignore it. It would be smarter for them to try and be friends, especially since they needed to cooperate to bring Ro’s vision for her St Urban restaurant to fruition.The problem was she didn’t see Pasco in a friendly way...no, Pasco made her think of intertwined limbs on cool cotton sheets, masculine hands under her bottom as he slid inside her, filling up those empty, hollow, much neglected feminine places that hadn’t seen any action for the longest time. She wanted to feel his lips and teeth on her nipples, his mouth on her stomach. His tongue licking its way down...
Aisha pushed her fingers deeper into her eyes and released a low moan.
Why was her ex the only one who could suck her in like this, who pulled feelings to the surface she didn’t want or require? She didn’t need the complication of wanting him or wondering whether he wanted her back.
She was out of practice with men, she freely admitted that, but she sensed he did want her. Just a little. Or a lot. And...damn. While she wasn’t opposed to the idea of them being friends, it would make life easier, and she liked the notion of them being lovers more. Temporary lovers, she qualified. A couple of nights here and there to scratch the itch, to satisfy her curiosity as to whether her memories lived up to reality.
You’re breaking your stay uninvolved rule, Shetty!
This was madness. She had a hotel and a restaurant to establish, a promotion to earn. She didn’t have the time or the energy for a love affair.
No, love had left the building a long, long time ago.
But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t get the idea of them having a fling out of her head. What would he say if she suggested upgrading their status from friends to friends with temporary benefits? Her stomach fluttered and she knew, just by that small reaction, that this was the worst of ideas. She and Pasco had never been good at simple and she knew that the chance of the situation becoming intensely complicated was high. It was a bad idea, a terrible idea but...
Damn. It was an idea that, like her headache, wouldn’t go away.
Pasco ended his call, slid behind the wheel, and closed his door. He turned to look at her and their eyes collided.
She didn’t hesitate, just went for what she wanted, and it was blindingly obvious by the heat and lust in his eyes that he wanted her right back. He met her in the moment, his mouth as demanding as hers, and the world faded away, her entire existence narrowed to their lips, his warm hand on her hip, the way his tongue slid into her mouth and wound around hers, sending a buzz of anticipation skittering through her.
She wanted him. So much.
Aisha responded without thinking, spearing her fingers into his hair, running her other hand under his shirt collar to find warm, lovely, masculine skin. She felt his groan, revelled in it, and fumbled for the clasp to free her from her seat belt. It finally popped open and she reached for Pasco again, pulling his mouth back to hers. She hadn’t had enough, not nearly enough.
His mouth was hot, spicy with whisky, and she needed more of his heat, his heady scent, to explore his wide, hard body. How had she gone for so long without him? How had she survived without this pleasure, with not having his hands on her body, making her feel heady, wild, intensely female? Pasco’s hand closed over her breast and his thumb swiped her nipple and she pushed off her seat, desperate to get closer. The gear stick pushed into her hip and she cursed the lack of space.
Pasco pulled back suddenly and dropped a curse before running his hand over his face.
‘What?’ Aisha demanded, half sitting and half kneeling, her breath coming in quick, sharp pants.
Pasco’s eyes—hot, wild, and a little feral—met hers. He lifted his hand and created an inch of space between his thumb and index finger. ‘I am this far from taking you here and now.’
‘I’m that far from letting you,’ Aisha admitted. She placed her hand on his hard thigh and released a ragged sigh. ‘The way you kiss, I’d forgotten how good you are.’
‘Ditto, sweetheart.’ Pasco dragged his mouth across hers, but before they could sink into another wild groping session, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back into her seat.
Aisha looked at the cars passing them, the pedestrians on the boardwalk, feeling dreamy and very buzzy. Her hand remained on Pasco’s thigh, and she drew patterns on the fabric of his suit trousers with her thumb. God, she loved touching him.