The words come out before I can stop them.
“I don’t care,” she whispers, sounding breathless. Her chest rises and falls faster than it did a moment ago, those blue eyes blown wide like she’s as aware of the invisible string holding fast between us as I am.
There’s flour on her jaw, a smudge of white against her golden skin. I want to close the distance between us and kiss it off. Remind her what it felt like when she let me touch her. When she gasped my name in the dark then fell asleep in my arms like I was her safe place. I want her to kiss me on the mouth because she wants to, and fuck the NorthStar deal. Fuck everything except the two of us.
“Does my sister know we slept together?”
Her eyes narrow, furious and terrified at once. “You wouldn’t tell her.”
“Go to dinner with me.”
“Get out.”
“We’re not done, Avah.”
“Oh, we’re done.” She picks up the spatula from the counter, and I watch her grip tighten around the handle. “I’msodone with men thinking they can bribe, coerce, or manipulate me into bending to their will.” The spatula flies at my head with impressive accuracy. I duck, and it clatters against the wall behind the sofa, leaving a flour smear on the exposed brick. “I’m fucking done bending, Jeremy. Get out.”
Because I’m an idiot, her temper makes me want her more, but I back away because I have a feeling that if I push any harder, I’m going to be the thing that breaks her.
That’s the last thing I want.
The door clicks shut behind me, and I stand on the outdoor landing, my heart hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to escape so it can scurry back to her. What a dick I am, showing up with demands when what she needs is a tenderness I’m not sure I know how to give. Avah deserves the space to fall apart without someone else’s agenda pressing against her.
But I didn’t build a billion-dollar company by retreating at the first obstacle, or win back a place in my sister’s life by accepting her initial “fuck off” as final.
I’ll find a way to show Avah that I’m not her douchey ex or her mysterious father. I’m not every other man who’s tried to bend her to his will. Now I just need to prove it to her.
12
AVAH
The flour smearis still on Sloane’s exposed brick wall when the book club descends three hours later. I can’t bring myself to wipe it away.
I’d texted the group chat earlier that I wasn’t up for meeting, and they should stick to the original plan of gathering in the bookstore. I need a minute to scrub the memory of Jeremy Winslow’s face from my brain before I have to pretend everything is fine.
So much for respecting boundaries.
Molly enters first, her red hair pulled back in a messy braid and green eyes blazing with a quiet determination that so many people have underestimated. Not me. I’m appropriately terrified.
Behind her comes Sadie, then Iris, Taylor, and finally Piper, whose baby bump gets more adorable every time I see her.
“I told you guys to meet without me,” I say from where I’m standing behind the island, like maybe I can drop to my knees and hide.
Molly stabs a finger at me. “To quote you at any given moment, fuck that.”
“The door was locked.”
“Sloane gave us her spare key.” Sadie holds it up like a trophy. “She’s finishing closing up the store.”
“I need space.”
“Fuck that, too.” Iris settles on the sofa, moving the pillow and blanket to a side table. “Unanimous decision.”
The lump in my throat expands. My inclination is to snap at them and retreat behind the walls I’ve spent years building, the fortress of sarcasm that keeps people from getting close. But I’m too bone-deep exhausted from the weight I’ve been carrying alone to put up much of a fight.
“I’m fine,” I offer weakly.
“Liar.” Sadie sits on the arm of the upholstered chair, her gold-flecked brown eyes soft with concern. “You don’t need to pretend.”
