“Why are you driving like an old man?” Avery finally breaks the silence to say, and a sigh of relief rushes out of me. She turns toward me, angling her body so she’s facing me and not the windshield. Her arms are crossed over her legs as she sits with her feet up on the chair. The new Doc Martens gleam in the passing streetlights.
I shift my posture up, loosening my hands from the steering wheel. I drop my right forearm to the console again, not realizing just how hard I’ve been clutching the steering wheel. “What do you mean? There’s a speed limit, Avery. A law to abide by,” I answer sarcastically. She doesn’t need to know that I’m going the speed limit now hoping to prolong the time we spend together.
She giggles, knowing full well that I’ve never followed the speed limit before, always the one to remind me to slow down and be careful. It warmed my heart, those words a reminder that someone out there actually cared about me and wanted me home at the end of the day.
I glance over at her, noticing the way her eyes drop to where my arm is resting between us. She swallows, my rings glinting in the passing lights as her gaze tracks over the snake tattoo running up my middle finger that Marcustalked me into. Her fingers twitch as if she wants to trace the lines like she used to when we’d drive. A way to calm her anxieties, she’d always say.
“Please, you have never seen a speed limit that you didn’t take as a suggestion,” she scoffs. “And why did you go all Tarzan and Jane and sweep me out of there? I was perfectly fine.” She slurs a little on the wordfine,but I don’t call her out because I love seeing the twinkle in her eye and soft smirk on her lips when she’s giving me shit.
I split my attention between her and the road, thankful for the lack of traffic this late at night so I can really take in her features as we pass the streetlights, lighting her up like the star she is.
Before I can stop her, she reaches over and turns the volume dial up where Alpha Adam seems to be dishing out advice about how a woman saying she doesn’t want to go out with you is just incentive to try harder. Avery bursts out laughing and turns to me again.
“Oh my god, Kane. What are you listening to?” She’s barely able to get the question out over her laughter, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.
“Wait, no,” I start, laughing at myself along with her. “The freaking radio is stuck!” I explain, trying to defend myself. I turn the dial back down, cursing myself for not making time to fix it before now.
She looks at me. “Oh sure, ‘the radio is stuck,’” she replies with air quotes. Still laughing to herself, she reaches over and turns the dial up again. The irritating sound of Adam’s theme song that he sings live every night fills the cabin. Another round of giggles hits Avery, making my smile grow too.
“No, I’m serious. Please, try to change it. I have been trying for days, and eventually just gave up and starteddriving in silence. Anything would be better than this,” I reply, waiting for her to try to change the station. I look over at her while we approach the stop sign outside her neighborhood.
Only two streets from the townhouse Marcus and I rent, Avery and Morgan’s little cottage comes into view, its white siding shining in the moonlight and greenery spilling along the front. Between Morgan’s plants from a few years ago blossoming in the yard and the brown porch swing and decorative porch goose—the one Avery begged me for last Christmas, that she and Morgan now dress up for the holiday—it feels as though it’s straight out of a storybook.
“Okay you’re right, it’s stuck,” Avery says, twisting the dial slightly only for it to get stuck again.
“I know. I’ve been meaning to open it up and try to fix it, but I’ve been so swamped lately. I think right now is the first time I haven’t been rushing off to get things done this week.” I slow the truck and park in their driveway, right behind Avery’s old Toyota Corolla.
Worry flows through me thinking of her driving that car.
When was the last time she got an oil change? I should really come by one night and check her tire pressure now that it’s warming up again. She’ll never remember to do it herself.
I shift the truck into park as Avery muses, “Well it won’t take more than ten minutes.”
“What?” I ask as a wrinkle forms on my brow, turning to stare at her more directly now that the truck isn’t moving.
She startles a bit and looks over at me as she grasps the door handle. “I just mean it won’t takeyoumore than ten minutes. You were always very…handy,” she replies, glancing down at my hands, and sending signals straight to my cock.
She looks back up at me with her doe eyes, not realizing how her little comment will spur tonight’s fantasies further when I get home later.
I turn and jump out of the truck before she can see my reaction to her, hoping the cool air gives me a minute to calm down—a half hard-on is the last thing I need when we’re having our first good conversation since the breakup. I round the cab just in time to see Avery jumping down from my lifted truck, wobbling a bit before grabbing my shirt to steady herself.
“I was coming to help,” I grumble, miffed that she didn’t wait for me. I never let her open her own door while we were together, why would I suddenly start now? I pick her up again, legs thrown over my left arm. I reach back for her things and shove the door closed with my right before heading up the three steps leading to her front door.
“I just…wasn’t sure…” she says, burrowing into me like she’s seeking my warmth, finally content after a restless night.
I give her a gentle jostle her awake. “Hey pretty girl, no sleeping yet. I need your keys,” I whisper, uncertainty laced in my tone. I still have my key to her place, but I’m not sure I have the right to use it now.
Her only response is soft breathing, so I dig my set out of my pocket, taking a bit longer than necessary so I can keep her tucked up against me for as long as possible.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
kane
Look After You – The Fray
Iopen the door and catch myself before I turn on the lights. Avery and Morgan’s house is always softly lit by plug-ins and string lights because Avery refuses to use the big lights, while I usually turn on every light I pass. She used to laugh and then get annoyed, saying she could always tell where I’d been from the lights she had to turn off behind me.
My heart warms at the memory.
