33. Chapter 33
Chapter 33
Avery
When Corbin returns to the table, I can tell there’s something off about him. I’m not sure what that phone call with Henley was about, but it’s clear that something happened to upset him. Maybe they had an argument. Siblings argue, right? Not that I’d know. But I love Cass like a sister, and we’ve had our share of disagreements. Whatever happened during that call, it changed Corbin’s entire demeanor. I can tell he’s trying to hide his bad mood, but I’ve become so attuned to his moods that he’s not hiding it well.
I want to ask him what’s wrong, but knowing Corbin he doesn’t want to talk about it. If we were dating, I know I’d ask him about it. I’d get him to talk to me about it and I’d try to help him work through whatever was bothering him. If we were dating, he’d probably tell me without shutting down. But we’re not dating. We’re not even friends-with-benefits. Not really. That would mean we’re friends, and I don’t think what we have qualifies for the title of friendship.
Though he did invite me to stay over last night. And he brought me to breakfast this morning. Whatever this thing is, it’s about more than just sex now. At least, that’s how today felt before his sister called. I’d been gearing up to ask him what all this means, but now I don’t think it’s such a good idea.
“Everything okay?” I ask, unable to help myself.
He nods. “It’s fine.”
Okay, so I was right. Something about that call with Henley upset him. But he’s not volunteering anything. I could let it go. I should let it go. But I liked the way he’d been before that phone call. It felt like we were moving toward something more, and I don’t want that to go away just because of a fight with his sister. So, I do the thing I know I probably shouldn’t.
“Are you sure? You seem upset.”
“I’m fine, Avery,” he says, a hint of frustration in his tone .
“Did you and Henley argue?” I ask, smiling. “I’m sure it’ll blow over. Siblings argue all the time, right?”
His dark eyes flash with anger. “Can you just drop it? My family is none of your business.”
He didn’t raise his voice, but the anger in his words stings as if he’d slapped me. My breath catches in my throat, and I feel my face heat with embarrassment and shame. I glance around at neighboring tables, half-expecting to see pitying glances thrown my way. Fortunately, they all seem to be involved in their own little worlds, oblivious to me as I sit here wishing a giant hole would swallow me.
“Sure,” I say, my voice little more than a whisper. “Sorry.”
“Fuck,” Corbin whispers, scrubbing a hand over his face.
He almost looks as if he wants to call back the words. I wait for him to say something, to apologize or to explain his behavior, but he does neither. He just sits there while I pick at the rest of my food, my appetite long gone.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head home,” I say, forcing a smile I don’t feel. “I have a million things I need to do before work tomorrow.”
I wish he’d ask me to stay. I wish he’d apologize and tell me he didn’t mean to snap at me; that it’s not my fault he’s in a shitty mood. I wish a million things it seems I’ll never have when it comes to this man. A muscle ticks in his jaw and I wonder if maybe he’s going to say the words I want to hear. But he just nods .
“Yeah,” he says finally. “Me, too.”
My disappointment hits me like a punch in the gut, but I just nod.
“Thanks for breakfast, Corbin,” I say, standing. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He stands with me but doesn’t say anything as I turn to leave. He doesn’t reach for me or try to kiss me goodbye. I know it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, but I can’t seem to help it. After last night and this morning, I’d almost begun to think we were moving toward something more. But after the last five minutes, I know I was wrong. I try to tell myself it’s fine. It’s what I should have expected. It’s exactly what he told me to expect when we started this thing. He told me that it was just sex. He told me that it would never be anything more than that. And I agreed to his terms. So, why do I feel like crying now?
Because of last night. Because he asked me to stay. He changed the rules without telling me. I let myself start to hope; start to wonder what a relationship with him might look like. I let myself want it. And it lasted less than 12 hours before he showed me his true feelings. I’m such a fucking idiot.
I maintain my composure as I walk away from the outdoor seating area and back toward Corbin’s building where my car is parked. I pick up my speed as I round the corner where I’m no longer visible to Corbin; not that I think he’s watching me go. Why would he? He’s made it clear where we stand. I just need to make it back to my car. I will not cry right here on the sidewalk in the middle of Boston. But I especially am not going to cry when there’s the slightest chance that Corbin could see me do it. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me enough for tears.
“Avery! Wait!”
Corbin’s shout from behind me makes my heart stutter in my chest and my steps falter, but I keep walking. Surprise wars with a sliver of dangerous hope that I try to tamp down. I can see my car now. It’s not much further. I swallow the hard lump in my throat as I close the last few yards. Part of me wants to know why he came after me. Part of me hopes for things I’m afraid to imagine, even in my own head. I can hear footsteps behind me, but I can’t tell how close they are. It’s not until he calls my name again that I realize he’s much closer than I expected.
“Damn it, Avery,” he calls. “Wait!”
I pull in a fortifying breath and school my features to something that I hope resembles indifference as I turn to face him. He’s only a few yards behind me and quickly closing the gap between us. He’s out of breath as if he ran to catch up to me and his face is flushed. But it’s his eyes that hold my gaze. They’re wild with something like confusion and fear and they’re locked on me as if I can somehow fix whatever’s wrong. I feel my heart melt just the tiniest fraction and those tears that had threatened before taunt me again before I can shake off the emotion. I don’t know when I became this woman, but what happened to the one who wasn’t afraid to tell Corbin off for his shitty behavior? That’s the woman I need to be right now.
“Wait,” he says again. “Don’t leave.”
The anger I should have felt far sooner rises up, and I narrow my eyes at him. He’s not asking me to stay. He’s telling me not to go. It’s not a question, but a command. As if he has any right to order me to do anything. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him, my back to my car.
“Why?” I ask. “So you can be an asshole some more? No thank you.”
I see the flash of annoyance in his eyes before he tamps it down and gives me a look that might be considered apologetic if it were anyone but Corbin. I wait for him to speak; to explain; to do or say anything to justify the way he lashed out at me. When he hesitates, I roll my eyes and reach for the door handle.
“Typical,” I say. “I’ll see you at work.”
“No, wait,” he says, reaching for my arm. “I’m sorry.”
I try not to let those two words from him get to me, but it’s the first time he’s ever apologized to me for anything. It’s hard not to be affected.
“Please, Avery,” he says, his voice softer than before. “Stay?”
Shit.
I know I’m going to cave even before I make the decision to turn around. When I turn and look up at him, I’m shocked by what I see. He looks so lost that I almost don’t recognize him. Once again, I can feel my heart melt just a little more.
“Why?” I ask.
He looks surprised by the question as if he’d expected me to stay just because he asked.
“I don’t want you to go,” he says.
“Why?” I ask again, exasperated. “Do you even know?”
“Because I like being around you!” he shouts. “I like myself better when you’re around. And I don’t know what that means. I don’t want to figure out what it means. I just want to see where it goes. Is that so wrong?”
“Corbin, what the fuck?” I shake my head, a humorless laugh escaping me. “You told me this was just sex. Remember? You told me not to get attached. You told me we weren’t having a relationship. You spelled it out very clearly. There was no confusion.”
“I know,” he says, carefully.
“But then you ask me to stay at your place,” I say. “You ask me to come to breakfast. You flirt with me. You kiss me at the table like you can’t help yourself. And none of that was about sex!”
I realize I’m shouting, but I don’t care. I’m not worried about people seeing us arguing in the parking lot. I don’t care what they think.
Corbin surprises me by not matching my anger. “I know,” he says quietly.
I jab a finger into his chest. “That was you . Not me. You’re the one who changed the rules and made me think it was more than that. But the second I ask you a question that you don’t want to answer, you turn all that off and go back to being Mister None-Of-Your-Business. Fine. If that’s what you want, you can have it. But you can’t have it both ways. You can’t keep pushing me away, then pulling me back in when it’s convenient for you. I deserve more than that.”
“You’re right,” he says in that same quiet tone. “You deserve better.”
I try to hold onto my righteous anger, but it fades quickly in the face of his calm. I take a breath and study his face. His dark eyes are locked on me, and he looks so lost that it nearly breaks me. I try to fight it, but I can feel myself caving again.
I sigh. “Damn it, Corbin. Don’t you see? You deserve more than that, too.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, not acknowledging my statement. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Me either,” I admit.
“I like you more than I planned to,” he says. “And I don’t like how that makes me feel.”
“Gee, thanks,” I say, sarcastically. “I don’t like liking you either.”
He huffs out a laugh, bringing his hand up to cup my cheek. I hate how much that simple touch makes me want to melt against him. God damn it. How does he know exactly how to touch me to make me forget I’m mad at him ?
“That’s not what I meant,” he says softly. “It scares me. And I don’t like that.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I feel my heartbeat kick into overdrive. What is he saying?
“Are you scared of what you feel? Or scared that I won’t feel it too?” I ask, choosing my words carefully.
His brow furrows as he considers for a moment. “Both.”
The single word is ragged and sounds as if it’s being pulled from deep within him. Corbin leans down until his forehead rests against mine. I don’t move a muscle, afraid that anything I say or do will ruin this moment. It feels like the start of something bigger. It feels like the possibility of something more with Corbin. It’s not something I thought I wanted when we started this thing. I wasn’t even sure I wanted it when I woke up this morning. But now? Standing here this way with the echo of that single word ringing in my ears, I know. I want more. I want all of it. With him.
“I feel it, too,” I whisper, tilting my face up to kiss his lips.