Chapter 41 Avery
Avery
The first half of the evening was fun. Surrounded by music, mayhem, and laughter, Avery allowed herself to relax and embrace the madness. With Bel at her side and Tanner just across the room it was perfect.
Well, nearly perfect. Arlo was still being a dick whenever he was given the floorspace.
“I’ll choose the tunes. Tanner’s got the taste of a twelve-year-old girl. He’s always liked crappy music.” Arlo plugged his phone into a portable speaker and hit play.
Avery and Bel exchanged a shared look of distaste.
“That little shit is toxic.” Mats moved pretty silently for such a big guy.
“So it’s not just me who thinks so.” Avery was relieved by that.
He grunted and took a swig from his beer bottle.
“You should talk to Tanner. He’d respect your opinion.
” Avery knew she’d have to if Mats didn’t, and she was still struggling to manage her feelings when it came to the two of them.
Torn between running in the opposite direction and wrapping herself around Tanner like ivy, she wasn’t ready for any extra “girlfriend” responsibilities.
“Not my business,” Mats said firmly.
“You’re his friend.”
The bulky giant gave her a soft smile. “They’ve been friends far longer.”
Tilting her head up to meet his eye, Avery asked the question that had been troubling her ever since Arlo had swaggered into her temporary workshop. “Is he a friend though? I don’t think so. Everything he says seems aimed at knocking Tanner down.”
“There’s definitely an unhealthy dynamic going on there,” Bel said, shooting a glare across the room at Arlo. Avery knew that look—it was her “I see you” look.
And she agreed. Plus, there was something weird, as well as unhealthy, flashing between Tanner and Arlo tonight. The vibes were off. Tanner, in particular, seemed different. He was giving Arlo a wide berth where he could and Arlo had fixed him with more than one long, probing stare in return.
When Mats ran a blunt finger along the length of his scar, Avery felt quietly flattered that he was no longer hiding it from her. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Tanner. He’s my hero.” He flushed as soon as the words left his mouth but he didn’t take them back.
Avery’s eyes heated as Tanner threw back his head across the room, laughing at something Sam had said. Mine too, she thought. And, for the first time that evening, she wished there were a few less people in the house. There were things she wanted to say to him.
The guys ordered Chinese takeout and had it delivered—so much food that when Tanner and Karl carried it into the kitchen Avery’s jaw dropped.
“We’re athletes.” Cam, the Rapids defenseman, gave her a good-natured wink. “I can burn half of that off in my sleep.”
“Where’s the hot sauce?” asked Leo, opening and shutting kitchen cabinets. “I know for a fact that Ave won’t have committed to takeout and not brought it with her.”
“It’s in my bag.” Avery smiled at his accuracy.
“I’ll grab it—your hands are full,” offered Gemma, eying the pile of plates in Avery’s hands.
It seemed oddly intimate knowing where everything was kept in this kitchen.
Like they were showing their relationship off in front of his friends and her friends, dancing around each other as they reached for more plates, cutlery, and bowls.
And Avery didn’t know how she felt about that.
There were so many things to get her head around. So little space to think.
In a wave of organized chaos, everyone helped themselves to the food.
“Is it socially acceptable to dive in face first?” Leo asked, rubbing his hands together.
“Only if someone records it for posterity,” she answered dryly, bumping him out of the way to snag a serving spoon.
Glancing over, Avery found Tanner watching them. There was a flash of something hot and heavy in the twitch of his mouth, before the corners lifted into a smile.
“Got everything you need?” he asked her across the table. “There are spring rolls and spare ribs over here.”
Avery held up her heaped plate with a grin. “Maybe later.”
She drizzled a little hot sauce over her rice.
“What’s with that?” Arlo jerked a thumb at the bottle, his mouth full. “Soy sauce not adventurous enough for you?”
“Try some!” urged Bel with a wicked look in her eye. “Avery’s been addicted since her dad brought her a bottle back from a European trip.”
Arlo read the label. “‘Vampire Hunter.’”
“It’s lethal,” said Gemma, whipping it out of his hand. “I swear it’s ninety percent garlic and the rest is all chilies. You won’t like it.”
“I’ll pass. Sounds like you should keep your distance, too, dude,” Arlo smirked at Tanner. “I think Boo’s trying to give you a hint here.”
“Luckily, I’m no vampire—I love garlic and chili.
And I don’t scare easy.” Tanner turned his back on Arlo and caught Avery’s eye with a grin as he reached to take the bottle from Gemma’s fingers, ignoring her sound of protest. He attempted to pour a small amount on the side of his plate.
“Damn—these things always come quicker than you think.”
“Talking about your teenage love life again?” Arlo snickered.
“Nope,” Tanner said over his shoulder as he wandered away, and he wasn’t smiling anymore. “Your adult one.”
Bel and Avery pulled a face at one another.
It sounded like she might need to have the chat with him that Mats had suggested sooner rather than later.
But not tonight. They both deserved to have a little fun—some time without anything heavy.
She’d shelve this thing with Arlo—and the sinister doll, too—in the back of her mind for now.
When Bel and Drew settled at one end of the long table, Avery steered Gemma to the kitchen island. “Sit with me, Gem?”
“Oh, I was going to . . .” Gemma looked around for another chair nearer to Leo but came up empty.
“You feeling any better?” Avery asked.
She didn’t look better. In fact, she looked rough. Gemma’s eyes were strained and red-rimmed, and her plate held a meagre selection of food.
“Not really. I hate it when I get it this bad.” Dropping onto a bar stool, Gemma nibbled half-heartedly on a spring roll. “Allergies are the pits.”
As the boys joked raucously with each other, Gemma’s eyes bounced back and forth around the table. Avery made a mental note to quiz Tanner on whether there were any single guys on the Rapids team. Gemma could do with a distraction—and unrequited love was no match for muscles and confidence . . .
“Sorry I made it all weird in the diner earlier,” Gemma said, fidgeting on her stool. “Put it down to a rubbish night and painful sinuses. I was being a bitch.”
“That’s OK.” Avery brushed it off but reached out to squeeze her arm. “You are going to have to lighten up on your Leo crush though. I know it sucks, but he’s just not interested, Gem. He’s been as kind about it as he can and you can’t make him feel something he doesn’t.”
“I know. Bel said the same.” They both watched Leo surreptitiously as he poured a light drizzle of Avery’s sauce, dipped in an egg roll and bit it in half. With a flinch and a swallow, Gemma dragged her eyes away. “It’s too late now though—I’ve already ruined things.”
“You haven’t. You’ll see. Just give it time,” Avery urged. “And Leo makes a great friend.”
Blinking her itchy eyes, Gemma struggled against tears. With a sniff, she fixed a weak smile on her face and leaned in closer. “So, is it the real deal with you and Quadzilla?”
Avery snorted, relieved that Gemma was making an effort to shift her mood. “Please don’t let him hear you call him that. He’ll have it put on a t-shirt.”
“Do you love him?”
The strip of crispy beef caught in Avery’s throat and she had to take her time answering.
Her eyes went straight to Tanner like mini homing devices.
Sat between Mats and Cam, he was talking earnestly into Cam’s ear, his shoulders twitching and jerking to emphasize whatever point he was making.
A messy lock of sandy hair had flicked forward over one expressive eyebrow, his silver chain half in and half out of the neck of his tee.
Avery’s cheeks flushed, and a pulse below her ear quivered. He could do that to her without even trying. And from the moment he’d climbed that ladder in the pouring rain to scoop the muck out of her mother’s gutter just so she didn’t have to, he’d stolen her heart, too.
She’d told herself that falling in love was the worst possible outcome. That love diminished you, made you too vulnerable. Handed over all the control to someone else. She’d expected it to feel scratchy, restrictive, suffocating. Like the end of the world.
And yet it didn’t.
Somehow loving Tanner made everything better. It was amazing. She felt effervescent. Scared, but so alive. And it wasn’t even a choice, just an inescapable truth. Avery could no sooner not love him than not breathe.
“I do,” she said, after way too long a pause. “I do love him.”
He caught her eye at that moment, his expression stilling like someone had pressed pause on his face.
The room was both crowded and utterly empty.
Avery was aware only of herself and Tanner and this knowledge they shared that she was his and he was hers.
The unbreakable connection that had seeded in a school nurse’s office and forged solid over a gifted hair tie.
Pushing to his feet, he skirted the table, a smile growing on his lips, that dimple deepening.
When he reached the kitchen island, he looped his arms around Avery’s waist and pulled her back against his solid chest, propping his chin on the top of her head.
It was like being wrapped in the wings of a sexy angel: intimate, secure, safe. Yet terrifyingly risky.
Instead of pulling away, she concentrated on relaxing each muscle in turn, and her spine softened gradually against the heat of his body.
“Missed you over there,” he rumbled in her ear, and a thrill rippled under Avery’s skin.