After his meteoric rise to superstardom, Jim O'Brien is no longer a small-town boy who plays in bars and dreams of success. His handsome face is plastered on the covers of celebrity gossip magazines, and his voice alone is enough to make girls swoon...
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The cab stopped in front of an apartment building in the best area of the city. After paying the driver, I got out of the car and inhaled the evening air, failing to calm down my frazzled nerves.
Tasha's words hadn't left my mind all afternoon, and I hated that she managed to get to me. I'd hesitated in front of my closet before I finally settled on a red blouse and black jeans that clung to my curves.
My watch told me it was almost eight p.m. I strolled toward the entrance of the building and pressed the button of Jim's apartment on the intercom. The heavy door clicked open right away, and I stepped into the foyer. The marble floors shone, and the mirrors took up the entirety of one of the walls.
The ride in the elevator seemed too brief. When I got out of the cabin, I didn't have time to collect myself, either — the door to Jim's apartment opened wide before I rang the doorbell.
Jim stood in the doorway, smiling broadly. The cotton of his long-sleeved gray shirt stretched across his chest, and like me, he went for some black jeans.
Grinning, Jim glanced at his wrist. "It's eight o'clock sharp. Hey, Ava, welcome to the apartment of Jim, also known as the coffee guy, or simply the idiot, idiot, idiot."
"Hey, Jim." I laughed. "That's a nice place you've got."
Jim motioned for me to step inside his condo and closed the door behind me. I started to take off my coat, but he beat me to it, making me shiver when his fingers grazed my arms. Jim hung the garment by the door and led the way into an open plan living room-slash-kitchen.
What took my breath away wasn't the tasteful, minimalistic furniture in light gray and white tones, nor was it the impressive L-shaped couch taking up the center of the room.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from the breathtaking view of the night city from the enormous clerestory windows.
Jim chuckled at my awed expression. "That's also my favorite thing about this place. I spend lots of time staring out of the window."
"I can't blame you. I mean, look at this. I adore the city at night."
"Looks enthralling."
"Magical."
We both smiled. Jim cleared his throat and nodded toward the kitchen. "I believe I promised you some food. I haven't finished yet; I didn't want it to get cold."
"It's okay. Do you need help?"
"No. I can manage. You're my guest, so just sit and relax."
"Can I stand and watch?"
Jim laughed. The sound made my stomach flutter, which was something I'd never experienced before. When Jim took my hand in his and led me toward the kitchen island, the fluttering grew in intensity. Were those the proverbial butterflies I'd read about?
