A waitress approaches and slides two plates on the table, and Ava rises. I dip into a recess, managing to keep her in my sights as she heads for the ladies’. Perfect. Get her on her own. Get close. Give her no option but to deal with the sparks that fly.

Remind her.

“Can I help you, sir?”

I turn around and find a frowning waitress hovering behind me. Can she help me? Can anyone help me? I’m stalking a woman, for fuck’s sake. I lock and load my dazzling smile and blast her back ten paces with it. “Just waiting for a friend,” I say smoothly, as she blinks rapidly and backs away, leaving me to continue with my stalking. I should punch my own face in. What the fuck am I even going to say? Oh, fancy seeing you here? What a surprise? She’ll know. Of course she’ll know.

I look toward the ladies’. She’s been awhile, and I wonder if I’ve missed her coming out. Did she spot me and run for it? I pull my phone out and dial her, just as the door opens and she exits, rootling through her bag. I drop my mobile from my ear, smiling as she walks toward me.

It's all I can do not to laugh when she pulls her phone out and rolls her eyes at the screen. So cute. “Reject.” She declines my call haughtily, tossing her mobile back into her bag as she marches on. Reject? Ouch. I put myself in the center of the corridor, filling the space, and her head starts to lift. My heart braces for impact.

And when it happens, my whole world goes up in smoke, and I inhale, feeling like I’ve been taken out by a boulder. My arm is out fast, holding on to her waist, not just to steady her, but to steady myself. I’m dizzy, my head spinning, her scent saturating my senses.

“Oh God, I’m sorry.” She freezes, her face practically squished into my chest, and I drag in air, fighting for breath. This. This is why I feel like I’m going crazy. This feeling. This madness.

“Reject?” I whisper, looking down at the back of her head. She looks so right nestled into me. “I’m wounded.” I really fucking am. In agony, in fact. Reject. She can’t. I won’t let her rob me of these new feelings. She’s spiked them, so she can damn well deal with the consequences of them.

She pushes herself away quickly and laughs. Yes, I agree. This whole situation is quite funny, Miss O’Shea, and if you knew me at all, you’d laugh even harder.

“Is something funny?” I ask, wondering why she won’t face me. Look at me!