Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
avery
Landslide – Fleetwood Mac
“Ave, I really hate to be the voice of reason, but are we sure this is worth a breaking and entering charge? I mean, I have bail money, but I did not wear the right outfit to wear for the clink,” Morgan says from behind me as I press the unlock button on Kane’s spare set of keys.
“We won’t get arrested—I have a key. It wouldn’t be breaking, just entering.”
“A key that Kane doesn’t even know you took! This feels like a bad episode of Cops waiting to happen,” she mumbles. She’s dressed in a Charlie’s Angels-esque spandex suit that she, for some reason, already owned, with her hair pulled into a tight ponytail.
“That’s beside the point. I had a key to get into the apartment to get the spare truck key.
They don’t need to know that I didn’t ask for permission.
And it’s not like we’re going to damage anything—I just need to jam his radio so it’s stuck on one station.
” I pray to whoever is listening that I follow the tutorial correctly and don’t accidentally blow the whole thing up.
With my luck, I’ll cross some random wires, and suddenly the truck will only go in reverse.
I laugh at that mental image while I jimmy the radio out.
I thank the higher ups that Kane decided to get an older model truck after he sold the Audi his dad had bought him, which means this should be a fairly simple, yet hilarious, prank.
Though, I don’t think I have the ability to pick the station, so I hope the one it gets stuck on is worth it.
After completing all the steps from the video, I lower myself from the truck. Morgan is standing next to the truck scrolling on her phone.
“I thought you were supposed to be my lookout,” I say while locking the doors.
“It’s 2 p.m., in broad daylight. If someone was going to see it, I couldn’t have stopped them.
” She slides her phone back in her pocket.
“So, what now?” Morgan asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
“Do you feel satisfied yet? Are you ready to be a mature adult and have a grown-up conversation with him?”
I turn, walking back to the townhouse to return his key before Dumb or Dumber get back. Marcus told me that he and Kane were going for an early lunch with Grayson before his game later, so I knew both the place and Kane’s truck would be empty and available for me to pull off my second prank.
“I am being a perfectly reasonable adult and handling my problems as anyone in my situation would,” I reply with my nose in the air, ignoring her suggestion to talk to him.
“I’m not sure I like this side of you. My Avery is kind and sweet and usually the one reining me in. I’m not meant to be the rational one,” Morgan replies half-heartedly as we get back in her car after returning the key. It’s a small, white car that cost more than our entire house probably does.
The McIntyres have more money than God, with Morgan’s father owning several high-rises in the city.
I grew up in an upper-middle-class family, but compared to the McIntyres, we were penniless.
But Morgan sat down next to me in ninth grade English, and that was it.
We’ve been partners in crime ever since.
She’s the blonde sunshine to my dark and broody brunette. She balances me out perfectly with her extroverted ways, always convincing me to leave my shell and try new things. Morgan is always out and about, meeting new people, off on some adventure, which is something I’ve always envied about her.
But as her best friend, I also know her effortless air is mostly an act. She may not open up much, even with me, but I know she’s been through more than she lets on.
My gaze lands on her as she drives down the expressway to drop me off at work.
The wind blows through the windows, sending our hair flying, and we both laugh, singing along to Morgan’s “party girl” playlist that I made for her last month, which is full of all her favorites.
The sunglasses on her face were a Christmas gift from her family, some luxury brand I’ve never heard of.
I let myself enjoy the moment, the music, the sun and the wind, all my problems disappearing for a little bit.
Work has been chaotic since I walked in.
We had a meet-and-greet today in hopes that it would draw more people in and get more animals adopted, or at least just taken home for a night.
Studies show that even one night out of the shelter, in a quiet environment, can do wonders for a dog’s spirit.
All the noises in the shelter can be overstimulating, which results in a lot of dogs being more withdrawn and scared, and therefore, it’s harder to get them adopted.
We try to host these events often, and with the traction we’ve been gaining on social media, fifty-six dogs are out for the night. It makes for a lot of paperwork for me, but I’ll gladly do it if it means even one of those dogs gets adopted.
I’m hours deep into paperwork before I finally take a break.
I head to the back to make my rounds before heading home for the night, and that’s when I hear it.
A soft voice flows from the back, one I could recognize anywhere and listen to forever.
It’s deep and husky, rolling over me like black smoke as he sings.
The soft song pulls me toward the kennels, until I reach Silver’s.
Kane sits with a guitar in his lap, his back to me and his legs spread out in front of him.
Silver’s head rests on his knee, her eyes closed and her breathing steady, while her puppies sleep beside her—just a few days old and as cute as can be—as he strums the tune of “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac.
I take a moment to drink him in, admiring his long legs and toned arms holding the guitar.
It’s the same one he’s always had, which means he must have replaced the string I took.
His voice makes me melt instantly, sending a shiver down my spine and goosebumps breaking out over my arms.
I could listen to him play forever, something I didn’t realize how much I missed until this moment, when I’m struck with an aching hollowness.
As if something fundamental has been taken from me, a phantom limb or the oxygen I breathe.
I lean against a post as he finishes the song, the words bringing tears to my eyes as I realize that this is another one he learned for me.
He would play it for me on my bad days—when the demons were too strong and getting out of bed seemed impossible. He would grab that guitar and sing to me, until I either cracked a smile and got up, or made room in my bed for him to hide away with me.
Silver cracks open her eyes as the song comes to an end, and that’s when she spots me.
She immediately gets up from his lap, moving toward me, her adorable tail wagging.
Excited whimpers escape her as I make my way to her, and I hear a sharp intake of breath come from Kane when he realizes who she’s giving this reaction to.
I keep my eyes locked on Silver as I unlatch the door and let her greet me. Trying to keep her from jumping or getting too excited, since it’s only been a few days since she gave birth, I get down on one knee and let her kiss my face.
“I know, I know, Mama. You got your own little concert tonight,” I say, scratching her face until she gently lays on her back, belly-up so I can rub her there too. A soft laugh leaves me, making me brave enough to look up at the man standing over us.
I suck in a breath as my eyes reach his face, his gaze on me and Silver.
His expression is so soft, I almost want to burst into tears over how much I’ve missed him.
His eyes meet mine, and I see it then—the dark circles beneath them, their sparkle dimmed, and the gaunt of his cheeks, sharper than it was a month ago.
The changes would be subtle to anyone else, but I’ve spent the past four years studying every inch of this man, and I can tell he’s not been as unaffected as I had previously thought.
The thought causes a flurry of sadness to erupt in my chest. The urge to hold him, even just for a moment, is so strong, I need to stop myself from jumping up and letting him catch me again.
For a moment, we’re locked in each other’s gaze. The silence stretches, until Silver yips from the lack of attention she is getting from us.
I turn away from Kane to give her more pets, and he finally breaks the silence.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.” He scratches his head, his eyes on Silver now.
“It’s okay. I was supposed to be gone hours ago, but…
” I trail off. He already knows how easy I get lost in my work here.
There were many dates and dinners waiting for me to pick up my phone and realize I was running late.
But Kane never complained, always greeting me with a smile, no matter how much time got away from me.
He lets out a soft chuckle, a tiny smile gracing his face. His little dimple is barely visible, but still enough to send my heart tripping over itself.
I take in the rest of him while I pet Silver, lavishing her with the attention she craves.
His big frame eats up the small kennel we’re in, his black Henley stretched across his chest and arms, hiding his tattoos.
I feel greedy as I admire the tightness of his shirt and the way his hands grip the guitar, sending a flush to my cheeks as a flash of other things he’s gripped like that hits me.
I shake my head as I remember him and that blonde at The Grunge a week ago. The butterflies in my stomach vanish, my anger from that moment resurfacing.
“Ave—” he starts, uncertainty in his voice, but I cut him off.
“We really don’t need to do this,” I tell him, standing to face him.
Seeming to notice the tension, Silver moves back to lie with her puppies.
“We can coexist in the same space and just pretend the other person isn’t there.
” I cross my arms over my chest, as if they can shield me from him as my frustration grows.
A look of confusion crosses his face, his brows dipping as the corners of his mouth turn down. I force my gaze away from them, not needing or wanting the reminder of how soft his lips always were.
“Is that really what you want?” he asks, putting his mask back in place. His expression shifts to one of indifference, as if we’re discussing a grocery list. Though his knuckles wrapped around his guitar are nearly white, like it’s his lifeline.
“Yeah, Kane. It is.”
“Noted,” he murmurs softly. “Excuse me.”
He slides past me, walking back up the row of kennels. His long strides eat up the distance, not once looking back at me as he leaves.
Defeated, I slide down the chain-link fence, placing my head between my knees. I take deep breaths, willing the tears not to fall, but when the door from the kennels to the lobby slams shut, I stop fighting them. I let my tears consume me, until a wet nose hits my hand.
When I glance up, Silver sits in front of me, looking at me expectantly with her tongue hanging out. I brush her ears back, using her soft fur and gentle presence to ground myself, giving me some relief from the pain that makes me feel like I’m choking.