27. Avery
TWENTY-SEVEN
AVERY
Reid
You forgot something at my place.
Me
What did I forget?
Reid
*Attachment: 1 Image*
Look familiar?
Me
Those aren’t mine.
Reid
The fuck? Yes, they are. I literally took them off of you five days ago.
Me
Are you sure about that?
Reid
Do you think I have a parade of women coming through my apartment?
Me
Maybe.
I’m just fucking with you. I wanted to get you riled up.
Reid
Of course you did.
“Are you sure I should be here?” I ask Maven. I follow her down the hall to Maverick Miller’s penthouse and the dinner waiting for me on the other side. “This is a private thing you all do with your family and friends. I’m not a part of that. In fact, I’m Public Enemy Number One. The girl who works for the opposing team everyone hates.”
“Who cares what team you work for? You’re my friend, and I want you here,” she says, looping her arm through mine. My nerves start to fray the closer we get to the apartment, and when we stop outside the door, I dig my heels into the ground. “What’s the big deal?”
Reid .
Reid is the big deal.
He and I haven’t spent any time together outside his bedroom—or his living room, kitchen, foyer and the wall in his shower—since we started this arrangement.
I’m not embarrassed to be seen with him.
I just don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to act.
I don’t know which personas we’re going to slip into; the ones that hide behind our phones and go at each other’s throats with sarcastic one-liners? The ones when we’re in his bed and I’m on top of him, his mouth warm on my neck and his hand between my legs? Strangers who pretend like they don’t know what the other sounds like when they come?
I hate not knowing what I’m walking in to.
I sent him a message earlier to let him know Maven was forcing me to tag along so it wasn’t a total surprise, but he didn’t answer.
I’m not sure if he even read it.
I saw him active on social media, sharing clips from their game last night and a reminder about their charity softball game later this week.
No text, though.
I hate that my chest pinches tight at the thought of him not wanting me here. At worrying if I’m invading his space or taking up too much room in his life. I blow out a breath to steady myself, and I feel like I need to sit down.
“I’m fine.” I plaster on a megawatt smile. “Let’s eat some food.”
Maven walks in without bothering to knock, and I hang back in the foyer as she makes her way deep into Maverick’s home. A row of shoes are lined up against the wall, and I spy Reid’s black Converse in the mix. The pair he laces up when he walks me down to the Metro when it’s late and dark, so I don’t have to make the trek alone.
The sight of them loosens the tension I’m holding, and I slide off my sneakers.
“Hi.” A tall redheaded woman leans against the wall and offers me a tentative smile. I recognize her from the wedding and a few of the photos Maven has posted online. “I’m Emmy, Maverick’s fiancé.”
“Hi,” I say, smiling back and connecting the dots. “I’ve heard so much about you from Maven. I’m Avery. Thank you for letting me crash your night.”
“I can’t believe we haven’t met,” she says. “You’re a lawyer, right?”
“No, I work in social?—”
“I’m kidding.” She turns on her heel and walks down the hall, motioning for me to follow. I trail behind her, gaping at the artwork on the wall and the decor that probably costs upwards of six figures. “I know exactly what you do. I love him to death, but Reid is fucking insufferable sometimes. I can’t believe I don’t know your social security number or your mother’s maiden name from how much he talks about you.”
A laugh races out of me. “I’m glad we agree on the insufferable part.”
“Everyone is in the living room, and the food should be ready in a few minutes. Can I get you something to drink? Beer? Wine? Liquor, if that’s more your speed?” Emmy rounds the corner into a kitchen made of marble countertops and sleek appliances. She swipes her martini off the island and knocks a grape off the charcuterie board. “Whatever your heart desires.”
“Do you have whiskey?” I ask. “I’ll take one. Neat.”
Emmy reaches for a crystal decanter that might cost as much as my rent. “We’re going to get along just fine.”
We make small talk as she fixes me a generous pour of the amber liquid. She slides it my way and knocks her glass against mine.
“Cheers,” I say, taking a long sip. “Oh, shit. This is the good stuff.”
“Don’t ever date a man with expensive taste. One minute you’re buying brand name olives, and the next he’s chartering a plane to Spain just so you can have the freshest pick of them straight from the tree.” Emmy hums out something that might be a laugh and drags her fingers across her lips, a reluctant smile forming there. “I love him though.”
“When’s the wedding?” I ask, staring at the huge diamond on her finger. “Does your hand get tired from carrying around that rock?”
“Next year, maybe. We might elope. Can’t decide.” She shrugs, unbothered by the lack of planning. “And it does, to be honest. I wear a silicone one when I’m at the rink, and I forget how heavy this is. It’s too damn big.”
“C’mon, Emmy girl. You don’t have to brag about me to our guests,” Maverick says, popping into the kitchen and dropping a kiss to the top of her hair. “June Bug is here tonight. Let’s keep this family friendly.”
She sighs and curls up against him, her cheek in the crook of his neck and a content grin finally settling on her mouth. “Your ego knows no bounds.”
“Hey, Avery.” He turns his attention to me and smiles. It’s intimidating, one only an extremely good-looking man could pull off without looking like a total asshole, and Maverick does it effortlessly. “Feels like I’ve known you for years, but it’s nice to finally meet you for real.”
“Thanks for letting me join your dinner. I know I’m not a member of the Stars or the Titans, and I appreciate you opening up your home to outsiders,” I say.
“Nah. You’re family. Doesn’t matter who you work for.” He rubs his hand up and down Emmy’s arm. “Does Reid know you’re here?”
“No.” I take another sip of my drink and play with my necklace. I’m going to need more liquid courage to get through the night. “I’m not sure if he knew I was going to be here at all, honestly.”
“He knows. He’s a little preoccupied right now,” Maverick hurries to tell me. “If you go down the hall to the right, you’ll find him.”
“Is this one of those Naked Man things?” I ask. “Am I going to walk in there and see him posing on a couch with his dick out?”
“I sure as shit hope not,” Maverick says, horrified. “That would probably traumatize June Bug.”
I burst out laughing and bury my face in my hands. “That visual is appalling. I’m going to pretend I never said anything and disappear before I make things worse.”
“Second door,” Emmy calls after me. “The first is a closet.”
I pass the noise coming from the living room and make my way down the hall. The walls are covered in photographs and I take my time to look at them. Snapshots of hockey teams. Maverick with a baby June. Maven on Maverick’s back, her arms out at her sides and pretending to fly. Maverick and Emmy kissing on a beach. A shot of him, Dallas, and Reid, all smiling at the camera, similar to the one in Reid’s office.
They’re all so happy , with so much love on display, and I think back to Reid telling me about his broken relationship with his dad.
It makes me glad to know he has a support system.
People he can rely on when the going gets tough.
Everyone needs a family like that.
I stop outside the door Emmy directed me to and peek inside. Reid is sitting on a stool and facing a mirror. There are eight braids in his red hair, and I hold back a laugh.
“There.” June adds a hair tie to braid number nine and smiles. “You look very pretty, Uncle Reid.”
“Thanks, JB.” He grabs her by the waist and blows a raspberry on her cheek. “You ready for some dinner?”
“Yeah.” She wiggles free from his embrace and adds a headband to his hair. “Did you bring the mashed potatoes?”
Reid laughs and stands. “Of course I did. I can’t let you and Emmy down.”
I accidentally kick the door and wince at the creaking sound. I try to flatten myself against the wall so he won’t see me, but it’s too late.
“Avery?” He glances over his shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey. Didn’t mean to interrupt. I—Maverick and Emmy sent me this way, and I can see now that it probably looks like I was spying on you or something.”
“Not at all.” He kisses June’s forehead then reaches for the door, opening it fully. “Sorry I didn’t have a chance to answer your text earlier. Work was chaotic with an injury and five different meetings. My phone died after lunch, and I forgot my charger at home.”
“Sounds like it’s been a day.”
“Long. Tedious.” He shrugs. June waves hello to me before sprinting down the hall. “Better now, I think.”
“The braids help, don’t they?”
“The only reason I’m still functioning. Are you hungry?”
My stomach picks that moment to rumble, and I wince. “I am. I accidentally skipped lunch and didn’t have time to eat after my run before heading this way.”
“How long have you been a runner?”
“Gosh. Almost ten years now? When I stopped dancing, I wanted something that pushed me outside my of comfort zone. Training for half marathons has been a good supplement to that rigorous lifestyle I used to have.”
“You’d kick my ass in a sprint.” He brushes past me, the sleeve of his green Henley grazing my arm. “Come on, Sinclair. Let’s go before there’s no food left.”
Reid introduces me to the DC Stars hockey players. There are a handful of Titans guys mixed into the bunch, a second-string running back and a defensive tackle I recognize from their roster. They all come up to me and say hello, taking the time to shake my hand and look me in the eye.
Maven blows me a kiss from across the living room and I laugh. She sits in Dallas’s lap and he rocks her in his arms, soft and quiet contentment on her face as she looks up at him and whispers something secret in his ear.
Nothing about the night feels awkward, and I’m far from out of place.
Reid and I make small talk here and there between bites of our food, but I talk to everyone else too. I show some of the Stars players the social media stuff I do, and Grant, a cute hockey boy with shaggy dark hair and blue eyes, won’t leave my side.
“I’m going to get some fresh air,” I tell him, rising to my feet and pulling on the hem of my skirt. “I’ll be back in soon.”
“Do you want some company?” he asks.
“Grant,” Emmy warns. “Stay. Let her have a minute. You all haven’t stopped chatting her ear off since she got here, and I don’t think she’s interested. You’re also eight years too young for her and annoying as hell.”
I tip my head Emmy’s way in an appreciative nod. I slip out the big glass doors off the living room and into the October air, breathing a sigh of relief at the quiet.
I lean my elbows on the railing and soak up the view of the city in the distance. The buildings wink back at me, and the Washington Monument looks small under the night sky. My shoulders sag. My social meter starts to slowly recharge under the stars, and I smile at the half sliver of the moon peeking out from behind a patch of clouds.
“Hey,” a voice says from behind me, and I’d recognize it anywhere. “Mind if I join you?”
I glance at Reid, my chin on my shoulder and my smile stretching wider at the sight of him. Hands in his pockets. Socks on his feet and ruffled hair. He’s beautiful in the moonlight and I sigh, drinking him in.
“I’d like that,” I say, looking back at the skyline so he doesn’t catch me staring.
He crosses the balcony in five long strides and leans against the railing. His fingers wrap around the metal and a muscle in his jaw works. I stare at his side profile and wonder what’s going on in his head.
“I didn’t know if you wanted to be left alone,” he says.
“I’ve been alone all day. This is nice.”
“Are you okay with it being me?”
I wonder if that’s why he’s kept his distance tonight. If that’s why he let Grant talk my ear off—because he wasn’t sure if I wanted him around.
It’s sweet and vulnerable and perfectly him.
“If it can’t be Maven or Emmy, you’re a good runner-up,” I joke, and he smiles.
“How was work?” Reid asks.
“Busy. Shitty,” I admit around a tired exhale. I hesitate telling him this next part because of our bet, but it feels like something I need to share. “Our ticket sales have stalled, and I’m at a loss at what else I can do.”
“I say this without any disdain behind it, believe it or not, but winning games helps. A three-game losing streak to start the year doesn’t typically make people want to splurge on seats.” He pauses, tapping his cheek, and I see an ink stain on his finger. Blue, and it makes me curious if he writes all his notes by hand. “Unless they’re masochists. Maybe Thunderhawks fans are. They might have to be to like that song.”
I nudge his side with my elbow. “Your team was bad once upon a time.”
“We were fucking horrible,” he agrees. “That was before the TikTok and Instagram boom, and thank fuck for that. I didn’t have to see all the mean shit people said. I would’ve quit otherwise. Now I’m immune to it.”
“People do say some mean shit, don’t they?”
“Dallas missed a field goal on Sunday, and someone commented saying they hoped he tore his Achilles. Wild how athletes aren’t perceived as real fucking people with real fucking feelings.”
“Kind of makes me want to go into their office and force them to read mean tweets out loud about their work performance. See how they like it.” I sigh and rub my neck, the remnants of an earlier headache stretching all the way down to my spine. “You all get together every week for a potluck dinner like this?”
“When we’re in town, yeah. It started with Maverick’s teammates, and it’s gotten bigger over the years. It’s my favorite day of the week,” he tells me. “It’s nice to have friends you can be yourself around.”
“Are any of them fans of comic books?”
“No.” Reid laughs, that rumbly noise that sounds so nice. “They don’t make fun of me, though.”
I hum in understanding. “That’s why I’ve always liked Maven so much. I can scream at the television while we’re watching a game and she doesn’t bat an eye.”
“Women,” he murmurs, but nothing about it is bitter. “So goddamn friendly.”
The moon gets higher in the sky. Behind us, there’s muffled voices and cheering. I wonder if I should head back inside or go home. I don’t know how long my invitation lasts, and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.
“Work was rough for me today, too,” Reid says, breaking the silence. “I don’t know if I should be talking about this with you, but you can commiserate.”
“I love commiserating,” I say.
“We’re also struggling with ticket sales. We already have such a loyal following, and finding new fans to reel in is proving to be more difficult than in years past. My boss has been on my ass lately about engagement and fan interaction, but I don’t know what the hell he wants me to do.”
“We’re in the same boat. Algorithms are changing. It’s taken me weeks to get consistent views on various platforms when I used to rake in millions after only a few hours. It’s so frustrating, but I think we’re both doing the best we can.” I swallow, and I swear he steps closer to me. “I really liked the text series you did with your players. The one you posted on Friday? That was fun,” I tell him. “Very unique.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Reid’s mouth quirks, and I like that hint of a smile more than I should.
“Don’t let it go to your head. The rest of your stuff annoys the shit out of me.”
“Right back at ya, Sinclair.” He glances at me, and the stars look like they’re twinkling in his eyes. “Want to come over tonight?”
I should go home.
That would be the responsible thing to do.
I have four emails I need to draft and send to potential sponsors by noon tomorrow. A YouTube video I need to edit and pare down from forty-five minutes to sixteen. DMs from giveaway winners I need to sift through so I can collect their addresses and mail out merchandise.
But that same feeling that struck me the night at the bar when we met strikes me again; I don’t want to go.
I don’t want to be alone.
I want to be with him.
“Yeah,” I say. His pinky brushes against my hip, and I remind myself it would be reckless to kiss him out here. That would make this real, a living, breathing thing that exists outside the bedroom, and that’s not part of our rules. “I do.”
“Good,” he mumbles, voice thick with lust I feel like a blanket around my shoulders. “Been wanting you all day, and I can’t wait anymore.”
We plan strategic exits thirty minutes later, one right after the other. We walk the fifteen blocks to his place, stopping at a food truck for empanadas and a jar of fresh salsa. When he unlocks the door, his keys end up on the floor and I end up on my knees.
Reid wraps one hand through my hair and curls the other around my chin, our eyes locked as I take him to the back of my throat until he says my name.
Later, after he pulls me apart then puts me back together slowly, methodically, in the perfect way I like, I realize Tuesday might be my new favorite day of the week.