30. Chapter 30
Chapter 30
Corbin
I pull Avery into the shower with me, unwilling or unable to let her go just yet. Either way, I don’t give either of us a chance to think about it for very long. I’m not sure I’m ready to evaluate what I feel when it comes to her. I know I’m having fun. I’m enjoying her body more than I’ve ever done with anyone before her. That alone should scare me, but it’s hard to think straight when I just came hard enough to see stars. What is starting to concern me is that I’m also enjoying just spending time with her. With our clothes on. I like talking to her. I like watching her draw. I love hearing her laugh at something ridiculous Jessie says. I just fucking like her. Which isn’t at all what I’m supposed to be doing here.
So, I do what I’ve been doing all along and push the thought to the back of my mind. I’ll worry about it later when Avery isn’t naked and wet in my shower. When her hands aren’t sliding up my chest to wrap around my neck and she isn’t lifting on her tiptoes to kiss me. I know I just came harder than I have in my life, but I find that I can’t get enough of this woman. Her hands on my skin, my lips on hers, her warm body pressed against mine as the water rains down around us. I’m turned on, but that’s not surprising when she’s around. But sex isn’t my priority right now. Right now, I just want any excuse to keep touching her.
I use my hands to soap up her body, gliding over her slippery skin. I take my time, savoring the feel of her against my hands. We don’t speak, but something about the moment feels bigger than any words we could use. I can’t take my eyes off her as my hands skim over her gorgeous body. I’ve seen her naked more times than I can count, but something about having her here in my home, in my shower, feels more intimate than anything we’ve done so far. It’s not lost on me that this is the first time she’s been in my apartment. I don’t normally invite women to my place. It should feel strange, but it doesn’t. I push aside that thought, unwilling to evaluate the reason behind it. Instead, I keep my focus on the moment, deciding to enjoy every second with Avery.
I even try to help her wash her hair, but she won’t let me. She pushes my hands away, arguing that she’s perfectly capable of doing it herself. I know she is. She’s one of the most capable people I’ve ever met, despite my original opinion of her being a pampered princess. She may have led a pampered life, but there’s so much more to her than that. The realization has me wanting to care for her. That’s a new one for me. Taking care of a woman who’s not family. But with Avery, it doesn’t feel weird or forced. It feels right. Which is another thing that should scare the shit out of me.
The fact that it doesn’t is another strange feeling I tell myself I should evaluate. And I will. Later. Right now, I’m enjoying this too much. I don’t want to ruin it by overthinking. I just want to keep living in the moment with her for as long as possible. Which is why, when we finish showering and she mentions going home to her own apartment, I reach for her.
“Stay here tonight,” I say, hoping she can’t hear the nerves in my voice.
Avery looks at me for a long moment before smiling. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
Relief hits me and I grin at her. “Lucky me.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “I can’t eat dinner naked.”
“Fine,” I say, sighing. “If you insist .
I dig through my dresser and come up with a T-shirt and a pair of sweats that I already know will be ridiculously large on her small frame. She accepts the garments with a shy smile.
“Thanks.”
I nod, suddenly self-conscious. I hope she doesn’t read more into this than is warranted. I just don’t want her to leave yet. I haven’t had my fill of her for the night. That’s all. It doesn’t mean this is more than just sex. I need to make sure she knows that. And I will. Later. For now, I want to see her in my clothes. In my space. Among my things. And I don’t want to evaluate why.
“I’ll order dinner,” I say.
She smiles as she pulls my shirt over her head. It’s big on her, as I knew it would be. But seeing her in my clothes sends a jolt of possessiveness through me that shocks me. Part of me wants to keep her here, just like this, for as long as possible. Keep her with me for as long as possible. But that’s another of those feelings I’m not ready to evaluate. Instead, I force myself to tear my eyes off her as she finishes getting dressed.
“I need to brush my hair before it dries into a snarled mess,” she says.
I nod as if I have any real understanding of women’s hair. “Right. There’s a brush in the bathroom. Top drawer. Is there anything you’re in the mood for?” When she gives me a teasing grin, I clarify. “For dinner.”
She shakes her head as she walks back toward the bathroom. “Surprise me. ”
I watch her disappear into the bathroom before forcing myself to turn and walk out of the room. She doesn’t need me to stand here staring after her like an idiot. And she definitely doesn’t need me to watch her brush her hair. Or to help her brush her hair. No matter how badly I want to do just that. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s not like this is the first time I’ve had a woman sleep over. Granted, that was years ago and not in this apartment. Still, it’s not like I don’t know how to behave with a woman.
I go into the living room and pull up a food delivery app on my phone. I settle on this Thai place that’s not far from here. By the time Avery emerges from the bathroom, I’ve almost convinced myself that what I felt in the shower wasn’t real. I’m overreacting. The amazing sex has scrambled my brain so I’m not thinking clearly. But then I see her, standing there in my too-big clothes with her damp hair hanging down around her shoulders, and I know it’s no use. Whatever’s happening between us—whatever this thing is—it’s about more than just sex. And I need to get ahold of myself before it blows up in my face.
“I hope you like Thai food,” I say, feeling oddly shy for some reason.
She smiles. “I love it.”
“It’ll be here in about 15 minutes.” I gesture toward the couch. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
She hesitates for only a second before she smiles. “Sure. What did you have in mind? ”
I hand her the remote. “Surprise me.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Are you sure you’re ready for that? What if I pick a musical?”
I manage not to make a face, but inwardly I’m cringing. “I guess we’ll sing along.”
Avery looks skeptical. “Do you know how to sing?”
“Everyone can sing,” I say. “Just not everyone sounds good doing it.”
“Which group do you belong to? The one that sounds good or the other one?”
“Oh, I’m definitely in the other group,” I say with a grin. “Sounds like screaming goats when I sing. So, choose wisely.”
She laughs and takes a seat on the couch and starts scrolling through the movies on my streaming service. I watch her for a few minutes wondering again what the hell I’m doing. Why did I ask her to stay? Why does this suddenly feel like a date? Why don’t I hate the idea?
“You want a beer?” I ask. “I don’t have anything stronger. No wine, either.”
“I like beer,” she says. When I raise a brow at her answer, she narrows hers at me. “Why do you seem surprised by that?”
I’m saved from having to answer by my phone alerting me that the delivery person is outside the building with my order.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, walking quickly for the door .
After tipping the delivery driver, I quickly head back up to my apartment where Avery is sitting on the couch, a mischievous look on her face. I’m instantly suspicious. My eyes narrow at her as I look from her to the television where the screen is paused.
“What?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Nothing. I picked out a movie.”
I can guess from her demeanor that she probably picked a romantic comedy or some animated kids movie I’m going to hate. I decide not to question it for now. I’ll find out what she picked soon enough.
“Food’s here,” I say, holding up the bag.
Her eyes light up with excitement and she jumps to her feet. She looks so small and adorable in my clothes that I almost laugh. Something in my chest squeezes almost painfully at the sight, but I ignore it. She follows me into the kitchen where we dump food from paper boxes onto our plates and I grab us each a beer. We carry everything back to the couch and Avery picks up the remote. She eyes me with anticipation.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to torture me?” I ask.
Her mouth drops open in mock outrage. “I’ll have you know that I picked the best possible movie for our viewing pleasure tonight. Don’t judge until you see what it is.”
I’m still skeptical, but I nod toward the television. “Play it. ”
I dig into my food while she plays the movie. But even without looking up at the screen, it takes me less than 30 seconds to realize which movie she picked. When I hear the opening lines to a Barenaked Ladies song I haven’t heard in years, I fight back a smile.
“10 Things I Hate About You?” I say, looking up to see Avery grinning at me.
She nods. “It’s a little before my time, but I figured it’s perfect for someone your age.”
I can’t help but laugh. “This is rated PG-13. Are you sure you’re old enough?”
“I might need you to explain the dirty jokes for me,” she says, making me laugh again.
I think I’ve laughed more with Avery in the last two weeks than I have in the last year. I don’t know what it is about her that makes me feel lighter somehow. It’s a strange feeling, but I can’t deny that I like it.
We watch the movie while we eat our dinner on the couch. Despite Avery’s claim of being too young for the movie, she recites several of the lines along with the characters. It’s clearly a favorite of hers. By the time Heath Ledger is serenading Julia Stiles in a soccer stadium, Avery’s eyelids are drooping and I’m in danger of falling asleep myself. When her head dips and I see her shake herself awake, I reach for the remote to stop the movie.
“Come on,” I say. “Bed time.”
“But it’s not over yet,” she argues. “Bianca still needs to knee Joey in the balls. ”
“She can do it tomorrow,” I say, reaching out a hand.
Avery reluctantly puts her hand in mine, and I pull her to her feet. Tucking her against my side, I walk us down the hallway to my room. I don’t think about how much tonight felt like a date. I don’t think about how much this is starting to feel like more than sex. I also don’t think about how much I like the idea of that. And I absolutely don’t think about how much I'd like to have more nights like tonight.