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“What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that?” Her voice wobbles as she flattens a palm against her chest as if to keep everything rioting dangerously beneath it inside. “I almost had a heart attack!”
I clear my throat and force out the lie. “Sorry. I was jogging by and saw you sitting in your car. I thought something might be wrong.” Actually, I’ve been loitering outside her building like a creeper for the past thirty minutes. Trust me, it’s not a proud moment, but after what happened at the coffee shop today, I decided I needed to step up my game where she’s concerned.
My response throws her for a loop, and her brows pinch together in confusion.
“Oh.”
When we fall into another uncomfortable silence, I shift my stance and clear my throat. “Are you all right? Is something wrong?” I’m hoping she doesn’t brush off the question, because there won’t be much more I can do but walk away.
“No.” There’s a pause before she tacks on, “Not really.”
It doesn’t escape me that if she knew she was talking to Chris, there’d be zero hesitation on her part. She’d already be spilling all the grisly details. But the guy standing in front of her isn’t Chris.
It’s Crosby.
And she doesn’t trust him as far as she can throw him. And just to be clear, that’s not far. At this point, I’m not sure if there’s anything I can do to alter her perception. In no way does that knowledge deter the crazy need coursing through me that demands I get as close to her as possible. What’s hilarious—not really—is that it’s completely one sided. In fact, Brooke would probably be delighted if I said a quick goodnight and took off, never to be seen or heard from again.
Somehow, I need to change that.
Or die trying.
I shift my stance and lighten my tone. “So…is that a firm no? Or a yes, but I don’t really want to tell you about it because you’ve always been an asshole?”
She blinks, and it takes a few moments before her mouth twitches. It just might be the first hint of a smile I’ve received from her. As miniscule as it is, I’ll consider it to be progress made in the right direction.
“It would be a yes, but I don’t want to tell you about it because you’ve always been an asshole.”
I press my lips together and nod. “That’s fair.”
She searches my eyes before the tension in her shoulders gradually drains and a reluctant puff of air escapes from her. “I just got back from dinner with my mother, and it was as delightful as ever.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I know all about it, but I can’t do that unless I plan on outing myself right here and now. After the Roasted Bean fiasco, I now realize it’ll take more time to earn her trust and friendship.
“You two don’t get along?” I ask, hoping to carefully draw her out of her protective shell.
Her expression becomes strained as she turns the question over in her head. “Unfortunately, it’s more complicated than that.” She gives a tiny shrug, attempting to play down the situation. “It’s not really that big of a deal.”
Except I know from our previous conversations that it is.
“That can’t be true if it tanked your evening.”
She examines me for a long moment before begrudgingly admitting, “Maybe.” There’s a pause. “I usually need some time to decompress after our visits. I love my mother,” she adds quickly, “but we’re two very different people and don’t always see eye to eye. Her values don’t necessarily align with mine.”
I stuff my hands into the pockets of my sweats. “I get that. The parentals try to mold us into their likeness, but it doesn’t always work. At the end of the day, we’re our own people with our own thoughts and beliefs. It can cause friction.”
She blinks before studying me. “You’re right about that.”
With a small shake of her head, she clicks the locks on her Volkswagen until the alarm beeps and hitches the strap of her bag over her shoulder. When she walks toward the entrance of her building, I fall into line beside her. I’m nowhere near ready to abandon this sinking ship.
She gives me a bit of side-eye but remains silent.
My lips lift as I take the bull by the horns. “I’m just walking you to the door to make sure nothing happens.”
“Like someone coming out of nowhere and scaring the crap out of me?”
“Exactly like that.”
She nods, her expression turning thoughtful. “Hmmm, interesting. I never pegged you for a gentleman.”
Probably because I’ve never tried to be one. “Are you forgetting that I opened both the library and car doors for you yesterday?”
A snort leaves her lips. “I think it was more of a deviation from normal behavior than anything else.”
