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“Over my dead body,” Zig snarls.
“That’s what worries me.”
Chapter Twenty
Evander
I let go of Avery’s hand and unlock the door, holding it open for her to head inside.
“You really didn’t have to come with me.”
“I wanted to. I think we could all do with a little break.”
“I feel that, trust me.”
“Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll make us something to drink?”
“Are you sure? I can help.”
“I’ve got it. Are you hungry?”
“No. My stomach is too twisted up to even think about eating.”
“Just relax, then. I won’t be long.”
Avery kicks off her sneakers and does as I ask, walking over to one of the sofas before snuggling into the corner of it. She winces when she leans awkwardly on her shoulder.
The stitches and everything look good, but she’s going to need a couple more physical therapy sessions before everything feels normal again. I’m sure she’d rather find someone who doesn’t know what Hawk’s cock feels like inside them.
“Ugh.”
I chuckle, placing her drink down on the table in front of her.
“Oh, fancy.”
“Just a mocktail for you, I’m afraid. With your painkillers, I didn’t want to risk it.”
“I’ve stopped taking them, but this is sweet. Thank you.”
“Seriously? You were shot, for God’s sake.”
“I know, trust me, but I didn’t like the way they made me feel. And honestly, it’s healing much better than I anticipated. It only really hurts if I knock it or overdo it with the stretching. Washing and styling my hair is probably the hardest thing to do right now. Otherwise, it’s fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Alright. I just don’t like the thought of you in pain.” I sit next to her, turned toward her, with my glass in my hand.
She turns to face me, tucking her legs under herself. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask, sipping my drink before sliding it onto the table beside hers.
She shrugs. “For everything. For your support. Not just in there, but from the start.”
“I want to say it’s because I’m a good guy, but it’s more than that. I like you, Avery. I like you a lot. I know that’s fucked up, given who you’re married to, but—”
My words are cut off when she leans forward and presses her lips to mine. I freeze for a second, knowing the right thing to do here is to pull back. But when the tip of her tongue traces the seam of my lips, I’m done.
