Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“No, I’ve an apartment behind me, but I can’t move in until tomorrow.” I smile a little. I cannot wait to get her back in there and christen every surface, room, and floor. “I’m renting a place on Hyde Park. You’ll come.”
“Yes.”
I close my eyes and bury my face in her hair. She still smells of me. I smell good on her. “Come on,” I say, maneuvering and tucking her into my side, walking us over to my car.
“My stuff,” she says, pointing to her Mini.
“Open it.” I leave her by my Aston and hurry over, collecting her bags off the front seat before she locks it again. “You left your flowers?” I ask, my head cocked as I load her bags into the boot of my car. Her persona screams awkward, her shoulders jumping up on a shrug. “So do you?” I ask, helping her into the passenger seat.
“Do I what?”
I crouch beside her, resting my hand on her knee. “Forgive me.”
Her smile is small. “I’m here, aren’t I?” she says, looking away. What was that? An answer without answering? I cock my head, thoughtful, rising and closing the door. My relief, apparently, was short-lived. She’s still uncertain, and as I make my way around to the driver’s side, I wonder what else could be the cause. My age? I don’t know, but I will find out just as soon as I get her home.
10
“I’m on the first floor. We’ll take the stairs,” I say as I direct her through the doors into the main building from the car park. We climb the stairs, and the silence is constant. Has been from the second I pulled away from Lusso. I’m slowly figuring out if I give this woman too much space to think, she’ll talk herself in circles. Talk herself out of this. So I need to stop giving her space. The notion is lovely, if impossible. I realize that.
I let us in and turn to look at Ava, cringing when I see her expression. Not surprisingly, given her profession, she doesn’t like it. “It’s a pit stop,” I explain, placing her bags on the floor. “I bet you’re really offended.” I force a smile, trying to dent the awkward atmosphere. The car was bordering unbearable, Ava silent, me not knowing what to say. Talk, John said. I’ve never appreciated how hard it is to do that. I never usually have to.
She smiles meekly. “I prefer your new place.”
“Me too.”
She braves coming farther in, glancing around, taking it all in. “I don’t keep alcohol.” Anymore. “Do you want some water?”
“Please.”
I take two bottles from the fridge and turn to find she’s settled at the island. She looks small and uncomfortable. Like she’s questioning being here. It grates on me. She’s finding a problem for every solution, and I’m trying so hard not to let it rile me. I pour her water into a glass and remove my jacket, looking down at the mess that is my creased shirt. I want to smile. I can’t. I want to relish in the memories. I can’t.
I pull a stool close to her and pass her the glass, and I watch her as I sip. She’s fidgeting, refusing to look at me, playing with the glass. What the fuck has happened? She clung to me like I was life outside of Lusso.
I breathe out heavily and she freezes, looking out the corner of her eye as I rid my hand of my water and take her glass, setting it gently down on the counter. I don’t only want to see her face when she gives me the answers to my questions, I want to feel her body react. So I reach for her stool and tug it closer, turning it slightly so she’s facing me. My hands fall to her bare knees. I need to talk. I have to talk. “Why did you cry?”
She shakes her head mildly. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Tell me.” Don’t make me force it out of you, Ava.
I keep her in place with my expectant stare, willing her to dig deep and be honest with me. I’m a fucking hypocrite.
“I don’t know,” she says again, and I sigh, my eyes narrowing, discontent flooding me. And I want her to know it.
“Would I be right in saying that your misinterpretation of mine and Sarah’s relationship wasn’t the only reason you were avoiding me?” There. Let’s move this conversation along, because if I wait for Ava to find the courage to speak up, I’ll be waiting forever. Enough. I flip the catch on my Rolex and slip it off my wrist, waiting.
She looks away. “Probably.”
I nod to myself. “That’s disappointing.” So what obstacle is she going to put in our way now?
Fuck it. I’m done with talking. Because I hate what she’s saying. Let me communicate with her in another way. A way that will leave no room for misunderstandings.