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Charlee grips my jaw and lifts my face. “You do, and I’m gonna tell you, and you’re gonna listen. Got it?” When I just stare at her with wide eyes—’cause she’s kinda scary—she gives me a smile. “She’s from out of town. I guess her and Avery have been casually hooking up for the last couple years whenever she’s been here for work. Nothing serious, but she texted him Sunday that she was in town for the week. Asked him to meet up. Asked him a couple times, actually. He said no every time. She showed up at his office yesterday afternoon when he wasn’t there, looking for him. Wyatt mentioned that she wouldn’t be able to see him because he was out at some meetings, and then had the party last night. Well, Wyatt guesses she took that as an invite. I’m not sure how she got through the door without a pass, but she did.”
I can guess. She probably batted her pretty blue eyes and long lashes, flashed her pearly white smile, maybe did a little twirl in her stunning, clingy dress.
“Avery had no idea she’d be there and had no intention of seeing her while she was in town this time. Wyatt feels really bad. He thinks he fucked things up.”
“It’s not his fault,” I point out.
“I agree, it’s not, but regardless, he knows how much Avery likes you, and he saw how upset both of you were by the situation.”
I’m feeling really torn right now. Tension knots in my stomach like a rope. My head hurts. My mouth feels too dry. On one hand, this makes me feel better. Not only did he not invite her and not want her there, but he’d already turned down her propositions.
But the other part of me is gnawing at my insides, wondering how much longer he’ll hang on for before he says fuck it and sleeps with her or someone else. I’m not ready, and I can’t ask him to wait for me to be ready.
I’m not even sure what I mean when I say I’m not ready. Ready for what? A casual fling? Or a new relationship? I don’t think Avery Beck is a relationship kinda guy. In fact, I’d be willing to bet money on it.
“Have you talked to him?” Charlee gives my fingers a reassuring squeeze.
I shake my head. “He knocked on my door last night. Did you know he has a dog?”
Charlee’s smile is bright. “No, but I can totally see that. I think he’s a big teddy bear under all that hard muscle and deep, penetrating gaze. He’s kind of a big softie with you. And with Viv.”
The more I think about it, the more I think Charlee might be right. Avery’s sweet comments, the slow kisses he gave me last night, the hug he wrapped Vivi up in and how he smiled at her, just watching, soaking in her wild.
“You didn’t answer the door, did you?”
“No,” I admit. “I wasn’t ready to talk, to see him.” I pull my bottom lip between my thumb and forefinger. “He texted this morning, too. Wanted to know if he could give me a ride in the rain.” I glance sideways at her. “I ignored him.”
Charlee’s eyes dim and I can’t tell if she’s disappointed or sad. “Oh, Claire. Give him a chance, would you?”
“A chance at what though? I don’t even know that he’s interested in anything more than sex. For all I know, the only reason he’s still hanging around, besides the obvious professional side to our relationship, is because I haven’t given myself up to him yet. The moment we have sex, there’s a pretty good chance he disappears.”
Charlee frowns. “I really don’t think that’s it, and Wyatt doesn’t either. Casey said he saw you guys kissing in here last night. He said it looked intimate.”
I roll my eyes and curl my feet up under my butt. “Can you all stop talking about me?”
She snorts out a laugh. “But you’re such an interesting topic.”
My desk phone beeps and Julie, the secretary, starts talking. “Claire, there’s someone here with your lunch order. Can I send him in to drop it off?”
“Lunch order?” I look at Charlee. “I didn’t order anything. Did you?” She frowns. “Weird. Yeah, Julie, send him in, please.”
A few moments later, a teenager who looks like he hasn’t showered in two weeks, judging by the sheer amount of grease in his hair, peeks into my office, wearing his Uber Eats shirt. He holds up a giant bag from Taco Bell and grins sheepishly at Charlee and me.
Scratching his chin, he reads the paper attached to the bag. “Uh, Claire? Here’s your order.” He meets me halfway across the floor, handing me the greasy bag, and laughs. “You must really like Crunchwraps.”
My brows pinch. “Thanks…”
I open the bag and dump the contents onto my desk, Charlee hanging over my shoulder.
“What the hell?” There are six Crunchwrap Supremes, a large order of chili cheese fries, and two orders of cinnamon twists. I look up at Charlee. “Did you do this?”
She shakes her head but starts laughing. “I promise I didn’t, but I totally know who did. I told him on Monday that Crunchwraps are your weakness. I can’t believe he remembered.”
“What? Who?”
Charlee rips off the paper attached to the bag, her lips moving as she reads it to herself. “Yup. I was right. Ugh, adorable.” She presses a hand to her heart.
I snatch the paper from her fingers, searching through the receipt for the message typed at the bottom.
