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“Ah, I frickin’ love it here. The chaos and the beauty all wrapped into one crazy island,” she says with a loving sigh.
“Do you ever get sick of it…the constant noise and people?” I ask, knowing she was born and raised here.
“Absolutely. That’s when I escape out east to my grandparent’s house. Or take a trip to visit friends. I used to visit Sloan in California before she moved back to the city. Where’s your escape…beside here?” she asks as her hand motions to my apartment in emphasis.
“Upstate, Hudson Valley area,” I answer honestly.
“I love it up there. Especially in the fall… The colors of the trees are so pretty that time of year,” she says with a sincere smile. It’s so beautiful, it makes my chest ache.
She’s a lot easier to talk to than I had first presumed, based on the fact she grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth. But that’s my own vendetta, and it’s slowly dissipating when it comes to Ava the more I give myself a chance to get to know her. I find myself sharing stories and personal moments… Something I haven’t felt comfortable enough to do with anyone in a very long time. It’s a hard lesson to learn growing up, who you can trust, who will have your back and unfortunately for me, that lesson was learned the hard way.
“It really is…” I say, more to myself than her.
A peaceful silence falls between us as we finish our drinks and look out at my view.
With the little time left that we have before we need to leave for the office, Ava takes it upon herself to browse the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that line the entire wall in my living room.
Her delicate fingers roam over the spines, inspecting each and every one. I swear my cock twitches with every twist of her hand.
“I would have never thought you were this much of a reader,” she says, continuing her perusal.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Hmm, that is true,” she ponders, then switches her focus to the endless shelves. Her head tilts to read the worn spines of some of my favorite series. I swear I think I’ve read those at least a dozen times.
Ava turns her head in my direction and eyes me with interest. “This is quite the variety you have here.”
“I’m a mood reader,” I reply bluntly.
“Figures.” She sighs, then steps back, and her eyes return to the shelves. Probably observing the fact that they lack pictures.
This back-and-forth between us feels too much like the closeness I dread when it comes to relationships. And that’s exactly what she’s looking for, although she’ll try to deny it. But I remember that elated expression on her face when she caught the bouquet at Sloan and Wes’s wedding last fall. All the women fawning over her, telling her she’ll be the next one down the aisle. She looked absolutely stunning standing amongst the other bridesmaids beside Sloan. I found it hard to focus on anything else. The vision of standing at an altar flashes in my mind, but I quickly shake away those thoughts…
Needing some space, I place my cup in the sink, and then walk down the hall to my room without a word.
I shut the door behind me, taking a calming breath, hating that I love the fact that she’s been here for less than twenty-four hours, and her smell is already infiltrating my space. But that doesn’t stop me from inhaling deeply again.
Ignoring the black fur ball who has now claimed my bed as his own, I step into my ensuite and pull myself together for the long day ahead.
Ava is slinging her work bag onto her shoulder when I exit my bedroom. I clear my throat and her head whips in my direction.
“Do you want to walk together to the office?” I ask.
She stands there in silence as she contemplates my offer.
“Okay,” she finally relents.
A gust of warm air hits us as soon as we step out of my building. “It’s less than a ten-minute walk,” I say, trying to break the awkwardness that has surrounded us since the elevator ride down.
“Great,” she says with that fake, practiced smile. Knowing the difference between the two, I hate the fact she’s using this one with me.
After a block or so, she speaks up. “I have several Airbnbs I've been looking into. I should hear back from them by the end of the day. So, I will be out of your hair soon.”
My steps falter. Wait, what?
I know I'm a grumpy fuck, but have I made her feel unwelcomed?
We fuck two times…one of which was a year and a half ago and you are already asking me for more. My words from that night send a chill up my spine. Sometimes I don’t even recognize the man I’ve turned into.
