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But after only a moment, he pulls away and gets to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, heading for the door.
What?
“You’re leaving?” I cry, leaping to my feet. “But you just said…”
“I’ll sleep at the loft,” Nero rakes a hand through his hair. “If they’re coming for me, I won’t have you getting caught in the crossfire.”
“But…”
“It’s safer this way,” he insists, looking tortured. “You’ll be safer. There are guards posted on the door,” he adds. “One out back, too. I swear, nobody’s getting in.”
But that wasn’t what I was protesting.
Nero moves back to me and drops a kiss on my forehead. “You’re safe now,” he whispers, and then he’s gone too, and I’m alone in the house.
Wishing he was here, holding me instead.
After takeout and bad TV,I manage to fall asleep around two a.m., missing Nero’s presence in the house. Even when we weren’t speaking, I knew that he was right down the hall. Now, the house seems bigger. Emptier. And I’m rattling around, waiting for his call.
The next morning, I get dressed and kill time making pancakes from scratch.
‘When will I see you?’I text Nero.
His reply bubbles on screen for what seems like an age, before it comes:
‘I’ve got to be at the club. I’m sending you something, though.’
I’m just wondering what he means when I hear the doorbell. Wary, I go over to the window and peek out. Avery is standing on the porch. One of Nero’s guards gives me a nod.
I open the door. “Hi,” I say, cautious. We’ve never spent time together, at least, not one-on-one. And I still don’t know about her close relationship with Nero.
Like just how close they are.
“Hey.” Avery gives me an assessing look. She’s dressed in cool-girl dark jeans, Doc Martin boots, and a leather jacket, her dark bangs choppy over black eyeliner. She looks tough, and ready for anything, and I… Do not.
I pull my fluffy robe tighter, self-conscious. “What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to sound polite.
“Nero sent me.”
“Oh.” I sigh. “Thanks, but I don’t need a babysitter.”
She smirks. “Good thing I’m not one. Go get dressed. We’re spending the day together. Big plans.”
I’m still tempted to refuse. But curiosity gets the better of me. I want to know her deal. And more about her history with Nero.
I open the door and invite her in. She pauses, sniffing the air.
“Do you want breakfast?” I offer, nodding to the kitchen. “I just made pancakes.”
“See, just when I was prepared to hate you.” Avery gives me a surprisingly friendly smile. “I’ll eat, you dress. And none of those pretty dresses,” Avery calls after me. “We’re dressing for comfort, not the country club!”
I take Avery’s advice, and wear jeans with a loose sweater and boots. She grabs a plate of pancakes for the road, and soon, we’re speeding across the Brooklyn bridge in a sporty red Porsche.
“Nice car,” I say admiringly.
“Nero loaned it,” she replies, weaving through traffic like a NASCAR driver. “Nothing but the best for his Princess.”
There’s a faint edge to her voice, and I realize, that however suspicious I am of Avery, she’s just as wary of me.
