“Let’s go. I’ll give you a free ride straight to your doorstep,” Dylan Scott said as he approached, reaching out to wrap his arm around her shoulder. The gesture felt so natural, as if he’d done it a thousand times before.
Avery Bennett immediately took two steps back, her guard up, her entire body bristling like a porcupine. She instinctively refused, “No, thanks. I’m used to taking the bus. It’s convenient.”
Dylan’s arm fell empty, and he felt a pang of dissatisfaction. He wasn’t just unhappy with Avery’s aloofness but also with the fact that his attempt to pull her close had failed so effortlessly.
He let his hand drop and studied the woman in front of him. She was attractive, sure, but not the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Yet, being so decisively rejected—not once, but repeatedly—was a first for him.
Dylan, who was used to getting whatever he wanted, was finally experiencing a taste of defeat.
Suddenly, Avery’s face lit up as she spotted a bus approaching in the distance.
“Come with me,” Dylan said, grabbing her hand without waiting for her response. “Unless you want me to force you, you’re coming with me. I won’t say it again. You’d better—”
Avery glared at him, her frustration evident, but she couldn’t find the words to protest.
“Lovers’ quarrel, sorry,” Dylan offered as an excuse to the bystanders on the platform. His expensive attire and polished demeanor made his lie seem plausible, and no one questioned it.
As the bus roared away, the platform grew quiet again.
Avery had no choice but to follow him into the car, her lips pressed tightly together in silence.
Dylan, however, seemed in high spirits. He turned to her and asked gently, “Which way?”
His breath lingered near her neck, warm and intimate, before slowly fading away.
Her lips, slightly pouted in annoyance, looked like unopened flower petals in the morning, a tempting shade of red. They seemed to glisten, almost daring him to lean in and kiss her.
Before he knew it, his body had already moved. He found himself inches away from her face, only to be met with Avery’s furious gaze. He studied her intently, confirming that there was no hint of affection—only anger. A strange sense of disappointment washed over him, and he straightened up.
Avery finally relaxed, and Dylan smiled. “Don’t worry. I don’t make a habit of forcing people.”
—Yeah, right, Avery thought bitterly.
“Turn left and pull over. I’ll walk from there,” Avery said quietly, avoiding his gaze.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Dylan asked as she opened the car door. He stepped out after her.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Scott, but my place is tiny—like a snail’s shell. There’s barely room to turn around. It’s hardly fitting for a CEO like you.”
“Is that so?” Dylan mused, watching her carefully.
“Yes,” Avery replied firmly and started walking. Dylan followed closely behind. “I can get you a bigger place. A villa, a penthouse with a rooftop garden—your choice.”
Avery stopped and turned, only to be pulled into a tight embrace. Her mind went blank, her heart racing, her breath caught in her throat.
In that moment, she realized something: despite everything, she wasn’t immune to his charm after all.