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Chase stands there, large and intimidating, blocking my way. For a moment I get the impression he’s not going to let me walk around him. Then he gives a sharp nod of his head and steps to the side, as if he’s giving me permission to answer the door.

I don’t know why that little power play doesn’t piss me off. I should be mad that he would even think of trying to stop me, but for some reason I’m not mad at all. In fact, I feel rather excited. My heart is beating a little faster and my cheeks feel warm.

Sebastian purrs all the louder and rubs himself through Chase’s legs.

I take a deep breath, willing my heart to slow then I wrap my blanket tighter around me and shuffle over to the door.

Now this is really awkward and embarrassing. I was just waiting for the right moment to excuse myself to my bedroom so I could put some clothes on, but now Ethan is here and I have to answer the door again without flashing my underwear.

I reach out and the blanket slips off my shoulder as I pull the door open a crack. Stupid blanket. Cursing, I yank it back up.

“Avery?” Ethan asks and his blue eyes peek through the small gap I’ve created between the wall and the door. A strong smell of alcohol wafts through the gap. I guess he spent all night drinking.

“Ethan,” I say. “It’s really early. What are you doing here?”

“I came over to apologize. I need to tell you I’m sorry about last night.” He moves forward, trying to nudge the door open more.

I block it with my toe. “You smell like you’ve been drinking. Have you been drinking?”

“Yeah,” he admits, slurring.

“I don’t think you coming in is a good idea.”

I sense Chase moving behind me and I wonder if I would have invited Ethan in if Chase wasn’t here. I don’t like the answer I come to one bit because the answer is: probably. If Chase wasn’t here, I’d probably invite Ethan in. I’d probably let Ethan apologize to me. And I’d probably even forgive him.

But with Chase at my back, I can feel how big of a mistake that would be. Ethan has changed and we need to have a serious talk. When he’s sober. I don’t know who he is anymore. This regretful drunk at my door is not the friend I know and love.

Perhaps that friend is gone for good.

“Please Avery,” Ethan pleads and I close my eyes. Not only because it sucks that we’re in this position, this awful shitty position, but because his breath reeks. It’s super strong of alcohol.

“We’ll talk later,” I tell Ethan. When I’ve had some time to think about all of this.

“I’m busy later,” Ethan says, his voice bordering on a whine. “Let’s talk now.”

“No,” I say, unable to keep my irritation from leaking into my voice. “I’m not ready to talk about it, it’s too fresh.”

Ethan is quiet, and he’s not normally quiet.

I soften my voice as I say, “I’m sorry Ethan. I’m just not ready to forgive you yet.”

“Okay Avery, I understand,” Ethan says, and I feel utterly relieved. Too relieved.

I was afraid he was going to continue to press the issue. Sometimes it can be very hard for Ethan to accept not getting his way. And right now, he’s definitely not getting his way. There’s no way I’m talking to him. There’s no way he’s coming in here.

“Call me later?” he asks. “When you’re ready to talk?”

“I will,” I assure him and start closing the door.

His own foot darts out to stop it. “And don’t worry about showing up at the store until you feel better. Take a couple of days off.”

If only I could.

I nod my head though. “Okay.”

“I hope you feel better Avery,” he says.

I force a smile. “Me too.”

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