CHAPTER SIX
AVERY
Over lunch at work the next day, I relay all this to Sarah, carefully edited in spots.
She sits back in the booth at McDonald’s and with wide eyes fans herself. “Woah. I cannot wait to meet this guy. He sounds amazing.”
She’s not wrong.
After I went home last night, I did some thinking, and I realized Bryce was right about putting the brakes on things.
If we had slept together, I would constantly be wondering when things would end and if our relationship was just based on sex.
Because, yes, we had chatted for weeks before meeting, but obviously we didn’t cover some main things.
Or else our heights would have come up and his shorter stature wouldn’t have taken me so by surprise.
I still can’t believe I really thought about walking out on him over it. What does that say about me? Talk about superficial.
But is it really?
Nobody looks twice at a tall guy with a short girl.
Well, unless the height difference is that extreme.
Even then, it’s just accepted. But a tall girl with a shorter guy?
I know all too well the stares and whispers and shudder at remembering my junior prom.
Just being by myself, I still get questions about how tall I am and, strangely, if I have any tall brothers. Women are weird.
“And how did you meet him again?”
“Online,” I say, unwilling to admit where exactly online I met him.
I’m the youngest member on our bingo team, which doesn’t bother me as it’s a fun group and fills my very basic need for social interaction.
Sarah is great and she would happily chat with me in person or on the phone for hours, and that would drive me insane.
Especially since she’s a self-proclaimed shopaholic and loves to have someone to drag along on her shopping excursions.
I dislike shopping with a passion that rivals her love of it.
My motto is ‘get in and get out’. Which is something I strive for every shopping trip while the Mission Impossible theme plays in a loop in my head.
My best time was twelve minutes for a full weeks’ worth of groceries.
I’m odd. I get that and embrace it. It’s finding others that can accept my quirks that’s difficult.
Will Bryce be one of those that can? I certainly hope so.
“You should bring him to Jamison’s. Ohhh! What about the end of the month? Everyone in the office is meeting up on that Friday to celebrate Trevor’s promotion.”
Oh, hell no!
Number one, I’m not bringing someone I’m newly dating to one of our after-work happy hours. And number two, the less I see of Trevor’s asshole face, the better.
When Trevor Banks first started working at Anderson and Davis Insurance ten months ago, I foolishly had a crush on him. He’s tall, handsome, and gainfully employed. What’s not to like?
Plenty!
He flirted with all the single girls at the office.
Me included. Sadly, unlike the others, I was too stupid to realize what a jerk he was and happily went on a date with him.
One where he insulted me all evening long.
Apparently, a tall, unattractive girl like me should be so grateful for a scrap of male attention that I should be perfectly happy to blow him in the dirty men’s room of the lousy restaurant he took me to.
When I told him no, he left me with the bill and waltzed out.
That’s enough to make me mentally flip him the bird whenever I see him, but it’s him getting the promotion that I wanted that was the final slap in the face and firmly cemented my dislike of him five months ago.
Except nobody knows I wanted the promotion because I never spoke up or went around currying favors like Trevor did. I had hoped the promotion would be based solely on the merits of hard work and dedication to the company.
That experience educated me fast in the ways the real world works and clued me in to how unfair life is, something I should have remembered from high school. I thought college was how the grown-up world works. What a laugh.
And now ass-kissing, jerk face Trevor is getting yet another promotion while I’m still in the same position I’ve held since I started working there two years ago.
I’m sure my face looks like I took a bite from a lemon because Sarah starts laughing. “Oh, you want to keep your new guy to yourself for a while? Fair enough. But don’t hide him away forever.”
“I won’t,” I say, going along with her misunderstanding. And why not? I never told her about the Trevor thing, and she didn’t know about my desire for the promotion either.
Dragging a fry though a puddle of ketchup, a bit of guilt nags at me. How good of a friend am I if I’m not sharing these things with her?
Those doubts continue to swirl in my head even as I set the bags of takeout on the counter and tidy up my apartment waiting for Bryce to arrive. I’m generally a neat person, so I don’t have a lot to clean, which means I can spend a tad longer than I normally would on my appearance.
I unbraid my hair, and shake my head, liking how the softer waves give my normally straight hair some much needed body. Tinted moisturizer, lip gloss, and mascara is the extent of my workday makeup, but I feel the need to play up my eyes more. They’re my best feature and why not accentuate them?
Gotta work with what we have is something Helen, my least favorite aunt was constantly imparting to me during my awkward teen years.
And maybe she’s correct. I change out of my work clothes into a flattering pair of black slacks that cling to my long legs and rounded hips and a well-loved lavender shirt that gives the illusion of an hourglass figure when, in reality, I’m more bottom-heavy.
The way Bryce’s dark eyes light up when I open the door tells me that perhaps I should have listened to more of Aunt Helen’s not always welcomed advice.
“Avery,” he breathes, stepping into my space.
Thankfully, taking things slow doesn’t seem to include not kissing, as his warm mouth envelops mine and his tongue teasingly sweeps between my parted lips.
Pressing my body to his, I thrill at how firm he is while the taste of him sends my pulse pounding.
The rising dig of his erection into my pussy leaves me shuddering, and it’s tempting to say to hell with slow and just drag him into my bedroom.