my work clothes. When we stepped out of the elevator, Anya was quick to drag me in the direction of their apartment.
I have tried to catch Trevor’s eyes, but he won’t look at me. I know he’s mad, and usually, I’m up for the challenge of a fight, but tonight, I feel guilty. Like I’m stepping on his toes. Encroaching on his territory.
Anya shows me her room and bathroom. Picks out her pajamas. I help her brush her teeth, then I brush her hair while she talks animatedly about her day and her friends. When it’s time for bed, she picks out two books that she wants me to read to her.
I tuck her in and sit next to her while I read.
Trevor hasn’t made an appearance since we arrived. He is maintaining a safe distance.
Anya throws an arm around me while she starts falling asleep. I continue reading for a few extra minutes, even when I’m sure she’s asleep. I stroke her shiny brown hair and reach for the bedside lamp that I turn off.
The room is shrouded in darkness and I take in a few deep breaths, preparing for the storm that is brewing outside.
I put away her books and leave her room as softly as possible. Trevor is still nowhere in sight.
I make my way out to the main hallway. I’m wondering if I should just leave the apartment without saying anything to him. Do I even have the energy for a confrontation? Especially when I’m feeling guilty and bad?
I walk up to the door and open it.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I hear his deep dark voice. My hand is on the handle. I’m facing the door, and I press my eyes shut in frustration.
I was so close!
I turn to him slowly and see him standing there, with a glass of bourbon in his hand.
I don’t think I have been this attracted to a man before, and it is so wrong. He hates me. I dislike him too. How messed up is it that I want his body?
“It didn’t look like you have anything nice to say to me. You never have anything nice to say to me, so I was just going to go home,” I reply.
Trevor’s jaw muscles clench and relax. He’s glaring at me and I feel exposed.
“You’re right. I never have anything nice to say to you because you always do something to piss me off,” he says and turns around and walks into a room to the side.
Leaving me no choice but to follow him.
I’m standing in the middle of Trevor Davenport’s living room and there’s a tingling feeling in the base of my stomach. It is nothing like what I imagined this apartment to look like.
I was expecting ultra-modern interior design. Cold like his heart. Opulent and sophisticated, harsh and unwelcoming at the same time.
However, as it turns out, Trevor’s taste in decor is more like what a cozy country cottage would be. I’m very surprised, and I look around in wonderment.
He is refilling his glass with bourbon, and I see him pouring a little in a fresh glass too. Presumably for me.
Neither of us has spoken yet, and he brings me the glass.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t poisoned it,” he says, and I try not to smile. Even though this room exudes some warmth, it doesn’t mean that he feels any warmth towards me.
“I’ve had a long day at work; I haven’t even had a chance to change. If you’re planning on giving me a lecture, I’m not interested in it,” I say.
Trevor has one hand deep in the pocket of his pants.
“You had no right to offer to tuck Anya into bed. That’s my job as her father, and I plan on doing it every night until she’s old enough and doesn’t need me anymore.”
“I’m sorry if I offended you in some way. That was not my intention. She looked like she wanted my company and I offered it to her.”
“She is my child.”
“I’m aware!”
“You know how much she idolizes you. If you offered it to her, she would take it. You should have known better.”
“What are you afraid of? That she’ll like me more than you?” I snap.
We are both trying to keep our voices down. Hyperaware that Anya is sleeping down the corridor.
Trevor’s gaze is narrowed and intense. I can see the way his face is stonily set. I’ve seen him annoyed before, but never angry like this.