Page 167 of On the Breakaway

“Probably.”

“Just don’t get your heart broken, Shaw.”

I grin, hiding the very real nerves over that exact possibility. “No promises.”

I’m in my car and driving to her place in record time. The drive over does exactly what I need it to do. By the time I’m pulling up out front, the conversation with Wyatt has settled somewhere in the back of my mind. The doubts aren’t gone entirely, but they’re quieter now.

There’s no way that I’m making this more than what it is. She wants me too. It means something for her, too. Right?

I make my way up her steps, already mentally preparing for the possibility that she won’t answer. It’s the middle of the night, and she’s asleep.

I knock.

She probably won’t even hear me knock, and I shouldn’t expect her to.

The door swings open before I have a chance to knock again.

I blink as Avery stands across the threshold, with her hair brushed and eyes wide. There’s no way she was sleeping, and knowing that she was waiting up for me has my heart doing flips.

“You were waiting for me.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You answered that door before I even finished knocking.”

“I was awake.”

“Waiting.”

“Awake.”

“Waiting.”

A faint blush creeps into her cheeks before she groans and drops her forehead against the doorframe.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No. Unfortunately, I don’t.”

I step closer. “Nothing unfortunate about that, baby.”

Her eyes darken the way they always do when I call her that. Sometimes she tells me not to, but I can tell she likes it. I like it, too. It makes this feel real. It makes her feel like mine.

I add, “How long have you been waiting for me?”

Avery refuses to look at me. “Not long.”

“Avery.”

“Maybe an hour.”

I bark out a laugh. “An hour?”

Her eyes finally snap up to mine.

“Do you know how annoying it is that you sound so pleased with yourself right now?”