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"How did you find this place?" It takes Brady a second to realize Evie's talking to him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Just remembered I need to do something before I head home."
He jumps out of his chair as if his ass is on fire, moving quickly toward the door. My eyes follow him, my heart sinking in my chest with each step he takes.
I need to know why he invited me here.
I wanted to apologize for not trusting him when I should have.
But he's not giving me the choice. He's running. Which has me more confused than the text he sent me earlier.
Until he stops at the door, our eyes connecting as he glances over his shoulder at me. The look in his eyes lights my body on fire. I can see exactly what he's thinking, and without giving it a second thought I'm following him out the door.
"Brady," I call after him as I attempt to catch up, shoving my hands in the pocket of my jacket to keep them warm. "Stop, please."
He slows his pace, then stops and pivots to face me when I reach him. We stare at each other for a few seconds before I find the courage to speak.
“I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything, but I need you to know I'm sorry."
"For what, dove?" Damn him. I finally looked up the meaning of the white dove after I read his text last night. It broke my heart and restarted it at the same time.
"For running. For not trusting you. For letting go of the best thing I've ever had."
"That's a lot to be sorry for. Care to elaborate onwhyyou ran and what you're doing here today? Not that I haven't wanted to see you every day for the last few weeks, but for you to show up out of the blue at a place that means so much to us is rather convenient."
"You invited me. Last night."
"I think I would remember that."
"You texted me."
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone and show him the message. His brow furrows as he digs into his pocket.
"I didn't text you, dove."
He didn't text me?
"It's cold as hell out here. Meet me at my place, and we can talk."
Nodding, I hustle back to my car and drive over to Brady's in a fog. If he didn't text me, who did? That explains why he seemed genuinely shocked to see me. Why he was acting nervous when I sat down. If he had wanted to meet with me, he would have been prepared.
He was caught off guard. Nervous. Attempting to control his anxiety. And his only way to escape the feelings crushing him were to get out of that cafe. Which he couldn't do without being noticed.
Making my way up to Brady's apartment, I knock once before I turn the handle to let myself in but find it locked. It's chilly in the hall, so I rub my hands together to keep warm. When there's no sign of him, I call his cell to find out where he's at.
He doesn't answer.
The roads here weren't that bad. I know his car is crappy, but the cafe isn't that far from here. He should have beaten me or at least been here by now.
Worried, I shoot him a text.
ME: At your place. Where are you?
Rereading the text he sent me last night, I realize how much it doesn't sound like him.
And why was he telling me where the coffee shop was. I'm the one who introduced him to that place. That's when I realize a different person must have sent the message. A clear sign that we were being forced to deal with our situation.
Sliding down the wall, I take a seat outside Brady's door and wait. It feels like hours pass without any word from him.
