CHAPTER ELEVEN
AVERY
It’s well past ten when we rouse enough to get a snack in the kitchen. With us both having work tomorrow, it’s for the best that Bryce leaves. One goodbye kiss turns into two and by the time he finally drives off, it’s after eleven and I’m barely keeping my eyes open.
Except suddenly, my apartment feels empty, and even worse when I flop down on my bed that smells of us, it seems far too big and lonely. I thought I would drift right to sleep after he left, instead I toss and turn for longer than I would like before finally falling asleep.
When my alarm beeps at me, it takes effort to drag myself up and I don’t have time to bother with making a decent breakfast.
I’m munching on a slightly stale bagel when my phone buzzes with a message.
brYCE: Dinner again tonight? If it’s too much. If I’M too much, just say so and I’ll back off.
Seeing each other three nights in a row? Maybe for others it isn’t too much, it is a lot for me. Yet part of me wants to see him tonight. I missed him when he left last night. And if we do dinner at my apartment again, then it wouldn’t be that big of a deal at all.
AVERY: Sure, my place after work?
brYCE: How about mine instead?
I debate for several minutes before typing back a simple okay.
He sends me the address and at that point, I need to hurry and shower for work.
The day drags painfully slow until around one when a large bouquet gets delivered while the partners are striding in from their lunch. Looking up from my cubicle, I smile and wonder which of my lucky coworkers they’re for.
Then Mr. Davis, one of the partners, takes them and I duck back into my cubicle trying not to giggle.
My giggles dry up when he stops in front of me. “Someone has an admirer.” He beams and gestures to the flowers. “Could I?”
I’m not quite sure what he’s asking, but I nod, anyway.
He leans over and inhales. “Ahhh… lovely. Thank you,” he says, placing them on the top shelf running along my workspace. “Have a good rest of the day, Miss Kingsley.”
Sarah pops over her division and curls her hands into a heart shape before disappearing again.
I pluck out the note and my heart pounds hard in my chest.
You’re all I can think of
-Bryce
After that, I can’t be expected to get any work done.
When four rolls around, I practically race out to my truck in the parking lot and barely avoid colliding with Trevor.
“Whoa, is there a sale on extra-large shoes at the shoe barn or something?” His nasally voice calls out.
I jab a mental middle finger up and flip him off repeatedly as it takes everything in me not to give Trevor the real thing.
Instead, I ignore him and toss my purse into my truck, getting ready to climb in when he calls over to me again.
“Where’s your flowers at? I about laughed myself silly watching you and Mr. Davis. He looked like Elmer Fudd next to you. Poor guy’s such a short shit and you’re like a freaking skyscraper.”
As much as I don’t want it to, his comment gets under my skin and I can’t help thinking that Bryce isn’t much taller than Mr. Davis.
Slamming my truck door, I take off and sneer at Trevor’s tricked-out red sports as I drive by it. Him and his penis-mobile, what an ass.
Why I ever thought for a single moment that he was ‘my type’ is insane.
By the time I reach the address Bryce gave me, all thoughts of jerk face Trevor are gone from my mind.
I’m too busy staring at the beautiful house positively looming ahead as I slowly drive past the opened metal gates and up the long driveway.
Trees line the drive, and their leaves are just beginning to turn.
Sadly, it’s that time of year when the daylight fades faster and faster and I know the harsh yellow glow of the truck’s headlights aren’t showing me the real beauty of the changing leaves.
In the middle of the day, with the sun shining, is the proper time to see them.
Shaking my head, I pull to a stop in front of the house. Only this morning I thought seeing Bryce three days in a row was a bit much, and now I’m thinking I need to see him over the weekend to better appreciate his landscaping.
While I’m busy giving myself a mental scolding, Bryce has come out and appears like magic next to my door. When I turn to open it, a startled scream escapes me at the sight of his grinning face.
His grin morphs into a concerned frown even as I’m opening the door and apologizing. “Sorry, you scared me.”
“That I don’t want to do, ever.”
Bryce’s hands go to my waist, and he leans in for a kiss that I happily oblige. We’re both pleasantly flushed when the kiss ends, and I wonder how I ever thought for a moment about not seeing him tonight.
“Did you get the flowers?” he asks.
Asshole Trevor pops into my head and I have to shove him far away. I won’t let him taint this. Smiling big, I say, “Yes. You shouldn’t have. You gave me flowers last night.”
He nods solemnly. “Yes. And now I gave you flowers today. You deserve flowers every day.”
Flustered, I lick at my lips, which doesn’t help because I taste him upon them.
Accepting my silence, he takes my hand and leads me into the house.
It takes everything in me to keep my mouth from dropping open.
I looked up his band over lunch today so I know he has money.
Still, this is a nice place. My entire apartment could probably fit in the foyer area alone.
Gleaming hardwood floors, a warm honey brown, stretch down a long, wide hallway.
Muted blue walls above white wainscotting guide our way to a bright kitchen that gleams. His housekeeper must polish the copper pots that hang over the massive center island weekly because I don’t see a single cobweb or speck of dust.
“Mrs. Davis left us pot roast. She’s big on beef. Hopefully, you’re a fan.”
“Any meal I don’t have to cook is a good one,” I say, my eyes whirling as I try to take everything in at once and not be distracted by the backyard, which I can see through the windows above the sink. “This is a huge kitchen for someone who doesn’t like to cook.”
His fingers tighten on mine. “It is. And I’ve always meant to learn, but priorities.”
“I thought your priorities had changed.”
His dark eyebrows rise and his crooked grin spreads wider. “Good point. Maybe we should take cooking lessons together.”
“That’s what YouTube is for,” I counter, feeling daring and wholly unlike myself as I lean closer, silently urging him to kiss me.
There’s just something about this man and his firm lips that makes me feel all needy inside. And when his chin tips up and his mouth is on mine, I can’t help thinking that perhaps I make him a little needy too.
During dinner, I notice the strain around Bryce’s eyes and how he’s not as talkative.
“Are you okay?”
“Slight headache. It was drum day today.”
That’s pretty meaningless to me so I give him a bland smile.
He chuckles and then winces. “Sixth grade is when we start the band program in our district. And every kid wants to play the drums. I currently have thirty sixth graders playing..” His lips twist up in a grimace, “Learning,” he amends, “to play the drums.”
“And yet, you signed up for this,” I say, unable to prevent the shudder of horror that goes through me.
“I did,” he agrees, his grin back in place. “How about your day?”
“Tamer than yours and mostly without any headaches.”
“Mostly?”
Taking a sip of water, I gauge how much I want to share, then reflect on my need to be more open. “My job is very low stress and undemanding, which I love. It’s a small company and most of my coworkers are great.”
Bryce nods, obviously waiting to see where I’m going with this.
“I just have this one annoying coworker.”
Grabbing my fork, I take another mouthful, feeling better for having said something.
“Wait? That’s it. You have an annoying coworker. You’re not going to elaborate? And I don’t know, maybe tell me why they’re annoying?”
I really don’t want to get into all the particulars so sum it up.“He gets on my nerves by existing.”
“Does he now?” Bryce’s already deep voice lowered.
That catches my attention and I squint at him. Is he? No, it can’t be. My eyes widen in stunned disbelief. Is he jealous?
Warmth explodes within me. I’ve never had anyone be jealous over me before. But there’s no need for it.
“I call him jerk face in my head,” I say, carefully watching Bryce as the tension around his mouth eases.
His chuckle has my fingernails digging into my palms, the warmth settling lower, making me aware of how wet I am. The idea of him being jealous shouldn’t turn me on. Somehow it does.
Not only that, but something within me also breaks loose and I find myself telling Bryce more about Trevor. About how much I can’t stand the jerk and how he got the promotion I wanted and now got yet another one while I’m still in the same position.
“So leave,” he says.
I blink. “What?”
“If you keep getting passed over for promotions, start looking for another job.”
I grab my water, drain it, and then focus all my attention on the empty glass. It’s a really nice glass, square and heavy.
“Avery.” He doesn’t raise his voice, but the tone changes and transports me back to my school days. Bryce definitely has the teacher's voice down.
Reluctantly, I lift my head and give a weak smile. “I like where I work and I sorta never let it be known that I wanted a new position.”
His soft sigh carries to me, and I can’t help feeling disappointed in myself.
“If you never ask, the answer will always be no,” he says. Reaching across the table, he takes hold of my hand holding the glass and guides it down. “Angel, you have to go after what you want. People aren’t just going to hand it to you.”
“They might,” I say stubbornly.
“That’s called getting lucky, and I don’t count on luck.”
“What would you call us meeting how we did?” I say, attempting to change the subject. “Wasn’t that luck?”
Heat flares within his dark eyes. “No. That was fate smiling on me.” Releasing my hand, he stands up and comes around to my chair.
Staring up at him, my mouth goes dry despite all the water I just drank.
I’ve gotten used to him not being taller than me, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I like how he’s towering over me like this.
His hands go to his belt, the click of the buckle loud in my ears as is the hard rasp of his zipper being pulled down.
He dips his black boxers down and pulls out his hard dick, the scent of him warm and manly. I part my lips, watching his hand gliding over his straining shaft, the thumb sliding over the clear pre-cum welling from the slit in his cockhead.
When that thumb presses against my lips, I dart out my tongue, winding it around his digit and tasting the tang of his skin and the salty sweetness of his cum. Moaning, I close my eyes and suck it fully into my mouth, smiling when I hear the uptick in his breathing.
His thumb slides out of my mouth, and I open my eyes as the spongy head of his dick bumps against my lips. Looking upwards, my eyes collide with his as I engulf his dick into the hot heat of my mouth.