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“What? You think I’m gonna tell?” I put a hand on his shoulder, but he still looked as startled as if he’d been caught shoplifting. “I won’t tell. Not that anyone there would care what we get up to—”
“I care. I’m straight.”
“Well, okay then.” My chest pinched hard. Which was weird because I could have said the same until about an hour ago. Removing my hand, I glowered at him until he turned even pinker. “Good luck with that.”
“Sorry, I just…” He trailed off as he strode over to where he’d left his shoes. “I’m being an idiot. I know.”
“You could try stopping being an idiot, go shower, and we’ll sleep this off. No one’s revoking your straight-guy card over one dick.”
“My ride’s almost here.” He glanced at his phone again.
“Seriously? You’re just going to bail?”
“Like you said, we work together. Don’t want to…blur the lines.” He knelt to put his shoes on, a pretty nifty trick with the prosthesis helping.
“Oh, I think things are already pretty damn blurry.” I was trying hard to not be hurt and to be kind because Avery was clearly freaking the fuck out, but my tone still came out harsh.
“Exactly. Gotta go before we make it worse.”
I wasn’t sure that was possible, so I stared wordlessly at him, hands on my hips. Standing back up, Avery winced like he’d pulled something or maybe like he was having second thoughts about his second thoughts.
His voice turned softer. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can be friends?”
“I thought we already were.” I groaned as he let my door shut behind him.
Shit. How had that gone from the best damn thing ever to fucking disaster? Lowering my arms, I tried a few deep breaths. Didn’t help. My ears still echoed with his sexy-ass noises, my lips tasted like him, and my chest hurt from his abrupt exit. Fuck this. I fetched a beer from the fridge and flopped back down on the couch, only for my phone to buzz.
Figuring it had to be Avery, I answered without looking. “Forget something? Door’s still unlocked.”
“That’s not going to do me much good. I’m an entire continent plus the Atlantic Ocean away in Madrid. As you well know.”
“Mama?”
“Yes, Malik. Happy Valentine’s Day to you.” Her laugh was musical as ever. “Myself, I’m having a lovely breakfast on the conference hotel balcony with this gorgeous vase of flowers that just happened to show up yesterday. I’d ask how your Valentine’s went, but sounds like not well?”
“Not the best.” Might as well tell the truth. She could always tell when I faked cheeriness.
“You shouldn’t use those hookup apps,” she chided.
“I don’t do hookups. You know me. I don’t even have any of the phone apps. No date either. Just went out with a friend.”
“Uh-huh. A friend.” Her voice went up, undoubtedly like her nose and chin, her trademark skeptical look that sent her students running for cover.
“No, really. A friend. We didn’t part the best, but that’s probably at least partly on me.” Now that I was a little further removed from Avery storming out, I could admit that as well. I could have stopped things from going so far. I hadn’t. If I was honest, I’d encouraged him more than I probably should have. “Hindsight and all that.”
“You need new friends.”
“Mama,” I warned, not wanting this old topic resurrected.
“I’m just saying, I know some—”
“You offer to introduce me to some nice girls, Mama, and I’m going to sic the aunties on you and your love life.”
“What love life?” She scoffed, making a clinking noise like her always-manicured nails hitting a glass. “I live for my work, and you know it.”
“Exactly.” My tone became downright gleeful. I loved my aunts, both the two in the states and the bunch back in Tabriz, but every last one of them was a busybody. “You’re too busy to date, so the aunties will have so much fun finding you the perfect silver fox.”
“Oh, hush. I have my work, the perfect son, and gorgeous lilies, so I’m a lucky lady already.”
“Glad you like the flowers.” I took a long sip of my beer.
“Yes, darling. They are perfect.” She sighed happily before switching her tone to a more pragmatic one. “Now, if only you could pick out a Ph.D. program. How are your applications coming?”
“Mama, I have a job.” Setting my beer aside, I rubbed my temple.
“You abandoned graduate school once already to go play soldier.” She made a clucking noise. “You don’t want to do it again for some temporary job.”
“I like this job.”
“It’s rent-a-cop work, Malik. Not a future. You have a brilliant mind. I can get you an internship at the UN this summer.” She snapped her fingers, a soft clicking sound.
“I know you’ve got connections, but I’m over thirty now. Don’t you think I’m a bit too old for internships?”
