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Pulling my phone from my purse, I do a quick YouTube search for how to pick a lock with a bobby pin. Yeah, I really do that.
But even the video with sixteen million views and a handful of comments like I can’t believe this actually worked! and Got it on my first try! is absolutely useless to me. Or maybe it’s just me that’s absolutely useless. All I know is fifteen minutes later I’m out of pins and my hair is an unruly mess down my back and around my shoulders, really adding to the whole wrecked hooker vibe I’ve got going on right now.
With a deep belly groan and the realization that I’m out of options if I want to sleep/collapse in an actual bed tonight, I drag myself into the elevator, smashing in every number in Avery’s penthouse code.
Upstairs, I cross the hall to Avery’s door, bracing myself against the frame. I have two options here: I can knock quietly, let him speak, and then politely excuse myself with my keys, or I can bust through there, guns blazing, and demand my keys back.
I go with option three, which I just made up now.
I try the handle. It’s unlocked, just like he said it would be. With a tiny push, the door creaks open. My eyeball peeks around, but I can’t see much from my spot. The sound of the shower running softly in the distance gives me enough courage to open the door just wide enough for me to slip in.
I don’t see Avery. It’s quiet, save for the pitter patter of running water coming from down the hall. The gentle throb between my legs tries to coax me to the bathroom to sneak a peek.
Not now, vagina. Didn’t you get the memo? We’re done with him.
Done. Done with Avery. There’s not a single part of me that likes the way that sounds. A deep frown tips my mouth and my heart pulses erratically.
Tiptoeing into his space, my head swivels around, looking for my keys. I spy them on the island and start creeping over. Sully comes bounding over, big pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, and I can’t help it—I drop to my knees and bury my fingers in his soft, fluffy fur.
“Hey Sul,” I whisper, kissing the tip of his nose. I smooth my hand over his floppy ears and rub the white stripe that runs between his eyebrows and over his snout with my thumb. “You’re such a handsome boy. I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.”
I press my lips to his wet nose again and straighten, snagging my key ring with my pinky. Like the stealthy ninja I think I am, I turn on my toes and creep with my head down back toward the door, mentally high-fiving myself for getting out of here unscathed, Avery’s plan foiled.
Until I bounce off something hard, rigid, and scrumptious smelling.
I see the bare toes. I see the long, lean legs, the muscular thighs. I see the navy-blue boxer briefs and the impressive package inside. I see that fucking V, see those chiseled abs and all their ridges, the dark patch of hair circling the world’s sexiest belly button—I know, who knew belly buttons could be sexy? I accidentally groan when my eyes find those pulsing, corded forearms, crossed over a rock-hard chest. And when I see the that stupid, sexy smirk, that cocked eyebrow, set over impossibly dark chocolate eyes, I lose it.
“Going somewhere?” Avery asks, tone laced with ice and a touch of mirth.
My heel catches on my dress when I step backwards, and I fall straight to my ass. Could this night literally get any worse?
No, I take back that question. I don’t need to tempt fate.
I just stare up at Avery, not blinking, and he stares right back. Then he crouches to the floor and I think he’s going to help me up, but instead, he takes my ankle and starts pulling my heels off. I try to jerk my foot away, but his fingers curl tighter.
“What are you doing? Let go of me!”
“I’m taking off your shoes, because you’re not going anywhere, Claire.”
“Like hell I’m not!” I try to scoot backwards on the hardwood, but he drags me right back.
Avery leans over me and my heartbeat kicks straight into high gear, as if it wasn’t already there. Looking me dead in the eyes, he rips my shoes off and throws them over his shoulder.
“You’re here, and you’re staying. You’re not going anywhere until we fix this.”
His tone leaves no room for argument, but like the stubborn bitch I can be, I cross my arms over my chest and jut my chin out. “You can keep me here, but you can’t make me talk.”
Avery laughs, low, throaty, and a little bit scary, warm hands sliding up my legs, squeezing my thighs as my dress falls away. “I have never, ever, met a more stubborn, hard-headed woman in my life,” he breathes. “You annoy the shit out of me sometimes.”
“Well then, I wouldn’t want to stay any longer and annoy you more than I need to. I’ll just be on my way.”
I twist onto my hands and knees, trying to crawl away from him. It’s a stupid move. He grabs me around the waist and pulls me to his bare chest, curling over me until I can feel his hot breath tickle my neck. His lips graze the shell of my ear and I tremble in his arms. I think he’s just going to try to fuck this problem away until he whispers against my skin.
“I’m sorry I hurt you tonight, Claire. I’m so sorry.” Voice cracking, he buries his face in the crook of my neck, his arms winding so tightly around my body, holding me to him. “Please forgive me.”
And that about does it. I’m a blubbering mess all over again, breaking down right here in his arms, on his floor. His own body starts shaking, or at least I think it does. It feels like he’s vibrating, but it could just be because I’m a quivering blob in his arms.
But then I feel something wet where my shoulder meets my neck, and I know there’s no way my tears got there. My resolve starts crumbling like a sandcastle.
