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As the front door clicked shut, I decided to keep my own cracked open a little so I could hear when he got home. Not because I was keeping tabs on him or anything. Just to make sure he made it home okay.
I settled into my bed and flipped off the lamp, but as darkness descended, my mind was far too awake. A crash ofthunder shook my window, and I determined Daire was crazy for going back out in this weather.
The man was an enigma. Living with him for more than three months hadn’t told me much about him at all. I knew the way he took his coffee. That he snuck in and out of the apartment like a thief in the night. That he was most stubborn man I’d ever met.
I knew all that, and still, for some annoying reason, I found myself curious about him. I wanted to know why he was the way he was, not just the superficial stuff.
It was obvious Daire preferred his own company to anyone else’s, but that wasn’t me…at all. This silent treatment was driving me crazy. I would rather argue than be ignored, which meant I was gonna have to be the one to suck it up and break the ice.
How? I had no idea.
That was a problem for tomorrow.
SIX
daire
FUCK ME, I needed coffee.
The closed black curtains covering my bedroom windows didn’t prepare me for the eye blasting I got when I stepped into the living room early Friday morning. It was too bright. Too sunny. Too much.
Especially when I’d only slept for three hours, if that.
It was worth it, though. I’d needed the release and to escape for a while, and that was exactly what I’d gotten. The ache in my muscles was welcome proof of that.
I grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and turned on the espresso machine, flipping through the preset options until I got to my setting. I hit the grind button and as the machine started to whir, I stared at the tiled wall of the kitchen. The welcome scent of ground coffee filled the air, and the second it finished, I tamped that shit and set it to brew.
The machine had been a thank-you gift from Gavin, complete with a big red bow, but by the time it arrived, he kinda hated my guts.
He’d done good, though. This thing made a coffee that was better than the shop downstairs. I’d thought about not using itwhen it arrived, but I needed the caffeine hit more than I needed to prove a point.
As the coffee streamed into my travel mug, Gavin’s door swung open, and out of the corner of my eye I saw his platinum-blond head move in my direction. As usual, he didn’t say anything as he opened the fridge and took out the pre-made breakfast he always had sent up from one of the restaurants downstairs.
I didn’t need to glance his way to know every step that would happen next. He’d stand at the edge of the kitchen island opposite me, tear off the lid of his container, salt and pepper his hard-boiled eggs. But he never ate those first. He always started with the sliced fruit or grapes, finishing those off before popping the cubes of cheese and turkey into his mouth. The eggs would come last, and he never bothered using a fork, just picking them up with his hand before licking his fingers clean.
Not that I watched him. I didn’t need to, not when we both had a morning routine we stuck to no matter what. Not to mention, we weren’t exactly on speaking terms, and hadn’t been since the blowup at Astor. That wasn’t my fault. If Gavin wanted to hold a grudge, then that was his problem. I wasn’t apologizing for a damn thing.
I kept my eyes on my coffee as it finished brewing, and then grabbed my mug and moved out of the way so that when Gavin tossed his empty container, he could take my spot in front of the machine.
We were like opposing magnets in that way, never getting too close, staying out of each other’s way. With anyone else, I’d be fine with it. Better than fine. I liked my space, and I hated bullshit small talk.
But this tension with Gavin was starting to grate on my nerves. I’d thought I could hold a grudge. That was nothing compared to Gavin Truitt icing someone out.
I didn’t bother with breakfast, just leaned back against the island and waited for him to finish up so we could head down to the Sprinter. Even not talking, it never occurred to me to not go downstairs without him. After all,Iwasn’t the one being a jackass.
Gavin’s fingers drumming along the counter caught my attention. His back was to me, a rigid set to his shoulders that wasn’t usually there.
Narrowing my eyes, I studied his long, lean frame while he wasn’t looking my way. His white collared shirt was tucked in at the slim waist of his fitted blue plaid designer pants, and I tried to ignore the way they hugged his ass.
Gavin wasn’t my type. He was too good, too pretty, too innocent.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate a hot ass when I saw one.
He turned around suddenly and met my eyes. It was the first time in a long time he’d looked at me directly, and I wondered what that meant. Was he finally over his shit? I didn’t need a thanks-for-kicking-my-ex’s-ass apology, but I’d take it reluctantly if it was offered.
“Where did you go last night?”
That wasn’t at all what I thought would come out of Gavin’s mouth after months of not talking. I didn’t react, taking a sip of my coffee instead. He already knew the answer. He’d been invited to go out with us to the club and turned it down.
