My gut knotted as I watched the elevator close to carry them down. All my instincts came to a screeching halt and the excitement to tease her shriveled to nothing. What the hell was she doing with a guy like that?
It made no sense. That man was at least twice her age and was so out of shape his skin seemed made of wax. The way his beady eyes watched her wasn’t right. She knew it wasn’t right. Yet … off they went.
Frowning, I headed into my apartment, replaying what just happened and trying to make a lick of sense of it. Sure, I fully intended to break her balls. I enjoyed the banter, especially with a woman who never seemed to flinched.
But tonight she didn’t seem in the mood for games. And why did she call her dates “appointments”? These guys were obviously interested in her—though I couldn’t see what she was getting out of the deal.
I cringed at the thought of the man who took her out tonight, once again wondering what the hell she could possibly see in him. The longer I thought about it, the closer my confusion turned to revulsion and anger. She could go out with that greasy, pinky ring wearing car salesman but not me?
The little game between Avery and me stopped being fun the instant that guy showed up. If I had to nail down a specific moment, I’d say the game ended the moment I saw something akin to shame flash in her eyes, just before the elevator pinged and her guest arrived.
For a week, I’d been waiting for an opportunity to bait her, tease her, and ask her out again. I also wanted to apologize.
I preferred her with her claws out. Even when I riled her and she showed her bitchy sides I wasn’t deterred. What I didn’t like was the look in her eyes when that guy put his arm around her. She should never be the type of woman who backs out of a room with her tail between her legs.
Please just go into your apartment…
When she made the request too much vulnerability showed in her big eyes. From minx to field mouse on the run, I couldn’t make sense of her.
Every time she went on a date, I saw a side of her I didn’t recognize. And why did she date so many men? Not only were the men showing up in droves, they were all wrong for her—too old, too fat, too boring, too … not me.
I had to have her. And I wanted the real her. The longer she put me off, the more intent I became. My instincts never misled me. Everything inside of me demanded she and I would eventually wind up in a sweat-drenched tangle of sheets. I couldn’t wait.
My nose twitched. The other man’s cologne still saturated the air. My stomach turned at the thought of Avery wearing such a scent on her skin. That guy would suffocate her.
Maybe it was a blind date, the sort one wanted to escape the second it started. Even if she did call it an appointment, the way he looked at her clarified it as a date. But she flinched when he touched her.
Fuck. I should have done something. She didn’t want to go out with that guy. I saw it in her eyes.
I have to go...
She didn’t have to do anything. Now, I was pissed. Have to go… Why the hell did she have to do anything when it obviously made her uncomfortable? Irritated, I tried to think about something else, but my thoughts quickly returned to her.
I needed to know more about her. I needed a glimpse beyond her front door and an explanation for why she insisted on dating so many obviously wrong men. But none of that was happening tonight, so I needed a distraction.
Pulling out my phone, I Facetimed my sister. The line buffered and her smiling face appeared.
“What’s up?” By the wobbling screen and dusky sky, I assumed she was out for a walk.
“Nothing. Just figured I’d check in.”
“I just spoke to you this afternoon. Did something happen since then?”
I forgot I already talked to her today. Laurel and I typically touched base about once every three days. Anything more than that signaled something was wrong.
“No, nothing happened. I’m just bored.”
“Bullshit, Noah. This afternoon you told me how busy you were. You don’t go from that to bored in four hours. Something’s bothering you if you call and