Chapter Twenty #2
He leaned back slowly as her words took hold one emotion at a time. Confusion. Realization. Resistance. “What if we don’t end it?”
Her heart skipped a beat. Was there an actual fence? Was he straddling one of his own for her, like Maverick was for Olivia?
“I had the idea last night,” he continued, “when I was watching you at the craps table. What if we extended our agreement?”
Extended. Another deadline. Another ending.
“No.” She couldn’t do it. More time with him would only make her fall deeper and hurt worse. “I think we’re done.”
His brows dove into a frown. “The fuck we are. There’s a lot more between us we need time to explore.”
Slowly, Jo sat up, reached for the towel on the floor and wrapped it around her. Rising, she faced Avery. “And what? We’ll just pick up where we left off when you get back from Greece?”
“How— Fuck.” Grumbling something about Maverick and Olivia, he threw back the sheet and climbed off the bed.
Grabbing the pants he’d worn the night before from the bench at the end of his bed, he crammed one leg at a time into them. Leaving the fly undone, he advanced on her, but she held her ground.
He gripped her arms. “Do you seriously believe I’d still go to Greece if I asked you to stay?”
“I…” Did she? “No. No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, but have you canceled your plans?”
If I don’t stay, will you go?
But that wasn’t fair.
“Not yet, goddammit, I just came up with this last night, and a lot of shit happened since then.”
So, does that mean there’s a fence?
Unlike Olivia, Jo wasn’t the wait-around-and-find-out kind of girl. She’d had enough hurt and disappointment to know that things seldom worked out how she hoped. But just that small glimmer of hope had her asking, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want an extension?”
Cupping the side of her neck, he drew her against him. “I want more time with you.”
“When you say there’s more between us to explore, do you mean sex?”
“There’s that, but no, I like being with you with your clothes on.” When she didn’t smile, he cleared his throat.
And not that it made much difference, but, “How long?”
“I don’t know.” Frustration rolled off him in waves. He hadn’t thought this through. That or he was feeling cornered. He flung his arms up and let them drop. “Until after Marcus’ wedding.”
So, he didn’t see them lasting longer than a couple of months. Moisture burned the back of her eyelids, but she blinked it away. “No. We’d just be delaying the inevitable. It’s better if we part while we’re still on good terms. As friends.”
“Look, that’s just a random date because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t know what this is.” He pointed back and forth between them with something like desperation. “All I know is I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I’m willing to see where it goes.”
There was no blinking back the tears this time. That only made them fall faster. It would be so easy to stay, to hope that he might love her, but if he didn’t, she’d be more broken than she already was. She wouldn’t survive.
She wiped the wetness from her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Avery, my life is in pieces, and you’re becoming my glue. I can’t have that. Not if, in two months, you don’t feel the same way I do.”
Spurred by the admission, one she hadn’t meant to make, vague though it was, Jo crossed to his closet where she’d left a change of clothing.
As she pulled on a T-shirt and slid into her jeans, he stood in the doorway, both hands in his pockets.
He looked lost. Like he couldn’t find a clear path through the maze of unfamiliar feelings.
She wanted to help him, but she was barely navigating her own way.
“Where will you go?”
“I signed a lease for a new apartment, but it won’t be ready until next week. Until then I’ll stay with Brooke.”
Hurt darkened his eyes with a gut-wrenching look of betrayal that pierced her soul. Her resolve cracked, and she could feel herself giving in, but then he turned and walked away.
Her throat tightened, and she swallowed a sob. She should have told him about her plans, but she’d been afraid to see his relief at her leaving. Instead, she’d made a mess of what should have been— What? Easy?
Nothing about this had been easy, and leaving Avery was the hardest thing she’d ever do.
The sob pushed its way up again as she shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed her tote. In the bathroom, she scraped everything on the counter into the bag and hurried through the empty room.
He stood at the bank of windows in the living room but turned as she entered, his gaze seeking hers. She couldn’t meet it. Instead, she veered into the kitchen to gather the baking sheet and piping tools she’d used for Mrs. Rossi’s cannolis.
“I have something for you.” He sauntered toward her, his long legs eating up the distance between them, a thick white envelope tapping against his thigh. “I was going to give it to you last night.”
“Whatever it is, I can’t take it.” She started for the door, panic quickening her steps as his closed in on her. If he touched her, she’d break. “You’ve done so much for me already.”
She flung open the door and whirled to catch the knob to pull it shut.
“Wait.” The gruff shout anchored her feet to the floor.
Avery reached for her, and a thousand screaming butterflies took flight in her belly only to crash and burn as his fingers curled into his palm and lowered to his side.
She heard him swallow but couldn’t force her gaze higher than the hollow at his throat. “How do you feel?”
Jo didn’t have to ask what he meant. The unspoken “about me” sent the pieces of her heart clattering against her ribs. She’d revealed too much already, but self-preservation only took her so far. Lying wouldn’t change anything.
Her lips trembled, and the words tumbled out in a constricted whisper, “Like I can’t breathe without you.”
“Then don’t go. Stay the rest of the week, so we can figure this out.”
The sob she’d been pushing down erupted, and she closed her eyes, fighting the tears, fighting the voice in her head begging her to stay. “I can’t. It hurts too much.”
Except for the breath she couldn’t catch, silence thickened the air around them, oppressive and heavy. Time slowed. Doubt crept in. Why couldn’t figuring it out be enough?
His weight shifted, and her eyes flew open as he slid the envelope into her bag then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “For when you’re ready.”
She wanted to scream that she was ready. That he was the one who wasn’t ready.
But when he didn’t say more, Jo nodded, backed into the hall, and shut the door, the quiet click sounding dismally hollow and so fucking final.