“Avery—“ he tries to cut me off, but I don’t let him.
“You’re gonna push me away like you did last time. I can’t believe I let you do this ag—“
“Avery,” he says more sternly. “Stop. Talking.”
He steps into me, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me closer to him.
“You don’t know this look because I’ve never looked at anyone like this before. I’ve never met anyone who does this to me, makes me lose control the way you do. I’ve wanted you from the first day you walked into my office. And now that I’ve had you…” He pauses, putting his thumb and forefinger under my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”
Chapter 15
The guilt gnaws at me as soon as I step into my apartment.
I drop my bag to the floor, the thud of my phone inside reminding me I should text Nash.
I can’t see him tonight. Not after that.
I grab my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen with uncertainty. The thought of cancelling, of what I could possibly say to him, makes my stomach twist.
I stare at the blank message, exhale slowly, then start typing.
Hey. I just got home. Raincheck tonight? I’m exhausted.
The room feels too quiet.
I sink into the sofa, the weight of what I’ve just done crashing over me as I wait for his reply. Salem curls against my leg, a warm, familiar pressure. I cover my face with my hands, trying to shake the memory of James and the way he looked at me,touched me, the sound of his voice when he said he wouldn’t be able to stop.
My phone pings, and I hold my breath as I read his reply.
Trouble
Get some sleep. Dream of me ;)
I picture Nash, his dimpled smile and the way he looks at me with those stupid puppy dog eyes that always make me feel like I’m the only thing that matters. He was waiting for me, and I was too tangled up with James to give him the time he deserves.
I feel horrible.
I’m in way over my head.
I need Mina. Her brutal honesty, the way she brings clarity to the chaos of my life without hesitation or apology.
Can you come over? I need you.
She must have been scrolling on her phone because her reply is instant.
Mina
On the way
With wine!
I text her back with just a heart and pick up the remote, hoping to distract myself with a mindless sitcom until she gets here.
I’m half asleep, my head resting on the back of the couch, when Mina strides in.
“Okay, spill it,” she says, marching towards the kitchen to grab two glasses.
Joining me on the couch, she pours a glass and hands it to me.
