T H I R T Y
- Oliver -
A t least I didn’t get slapped.
Then again, I might’ve preferred that outcome. Besides the fact that I deserved it, her touching me would’ve felt like a step in the right direction.
I wondered if she missed me, if she’d thought about coming over. But I stood outside her door long enough to realize she needed space. Even if that was the one thing I didn’t want to give her.
Why did she have to be so stubborn? It’s not like I hadn’t tried to tell her the truth.
And calling me Sherlock?! If I was clever enough to deserve that moniker, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Surely, she knew that. Surely, she knew deep down that there was nothing sinister about this misunderstanding.
Had she even heard what I said about having a stalker before? I realize that wasn’t a great excuse for keeping her in the dark, but it was the truth. And while it’s not like I feared for my life, the experience was unsettling.
Avery probably thought I was the stalker in this situation. But nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, when I finally tried to track her down, I failed miserably!
Maybe going to the café was a lousy idea, but I figured she’d talk to me on neutral ground. Especially if I was a customer. But I figured wrong. Either she wasn’t working or she asked Grace to cover for her, but news of our situation had clearly traveled fast. Grace was ice cold to me, and if I hadn’t ordered a slice of her famous pie, I doubt she would’ve forced herself to serve it with a smile.
The thought of confiding in Grace crossed my mind, but I could tell by her attitude it would’ve been a waste of breath. I was no more welcome at the café than I was at Avery’s door.
Fortunately, sulking wasn’t my style, but I was stressed. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t shake the idea that I might’ve spoiled my shot with the only woman who’d truly wowed me in years. And it wasn’t just her looks or laugh or light-heartedness that appealed to me. It was her self-assuredness and her intelligence and her sexual appetite. She made me want to be more open. To life. Maybe even love.
I thought I was protecting our budding relationship by keeping the inconvenient truth of our close quarters confidential. But avoiding awkwardness had only led to agony...Least of all because it looked like I was going to go to my grave without ever knowing her intentions for that lube.
After getting the cold shoulder at the café, I tried to convince myself I was better off without her. But I didn’t even make it a block before I realized that was never going to work. The harder I tried to come up with all the reasons she was overrated, the more I realized I had nothing but evidence to the contrary.
She was unforgettable.
She was everything I wanted.
And she was fucking next door and not talking to me.
What the hell was I thinking? Did I really think my charisma and how much I cared about her was going to overshadow the fact that I’d been keeping secrets from her? That was almost as dumb as her dismissing our undeniable connection because of a harmless miscommunication!
After all, it’s not like she’d explicitly asked me where I lived. Because that wasn’t important! What mattered was the comfortable way our conversations flowed and the smile on her gorgeous face when she collapsed in her tousled sheets, spent from head to toe. Excuse me for not busting out my address book when I was blinded by all the beautiful ways she blushed.
Just thinking about it made my heart ache. And my head. And my hands.
I had to fix this. No question.
“I thought you’d be more excited,” Mac said, picking up a crispy potato wedge.
“I am excited.”
“It’s exactly the fee you wanted, and they’re going to let you play the nice guy.”
I dragged my pilsner closer. “I’m not playing the nice guy, Mac. I am a nice guy.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Not yeah yeah ,” I said. “I’m sick of people thinking I’m an asshole who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. It’s not true.”
His eyes widened. “You want to calm down there, tiger?”
“I’m calm.”
“Why don’t you take your rage out on that steak you’ve barely touched?”
I glanced down at my plate and thought of the steak dinner I hadn’t shared with Avery. She would’ve loved that place with its soft candlelight and cavernous stone walls. I’d even arranged a tour of their wine cellar before dinner to stoke our appetites. I figured I’d buy a few bottles of whatever she liked best as a souvenir of sorts that would stretch out the memory of a lovely time shared.
What a schmuck.
“You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” Mac asked, cutting his flaky lemon sole with the side of his fork. “Does it have anything to do with that neighbor you’re having trouble with?”
“It does actually.”
“What’s the issue?” he asked before filling his mouth so I’d have to fill the silence.
“I’m crazy about her, and she hates me.”
“She probably doesn’t hate you,” he said. “She probably just hates herself.”
I furrowed my brow. “Actually, she doesn’t hate herself. That’s one of the many things I like about her. It’s definitely me she hates.”
“Ehh. I bet she hates herself.”
“That’s ridiculous. She has no reason to—”
“Falling in love is a fine reason to hate yourself.”
“What?”
“Especially for a woman.” He took a sip of his beer and licked his lips. “Think about it.”
I blinked at him.
“Women don’t need men to be happy. They’re perfectly capable of living pleasurable lives without a walking, talking, attention-seeking pain in the ass by their side.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said. “Because you think you’re God’s gift to women.”
“That’s not true.”
“I’d hate myself if I fell in love with you.”
I scowled at him. “Are you going to say anything helpful?”
“She shouldn’t have fallen for you. She was bound to realize it sooner or later.”
I leaned back in my chair. “That’s a no then.”
“Hey, not all hope is lost.”
I raised my brows, hoping he’d redeem himself.
“The continuation of our species relies on women like your neighbor ignoring their intuition and getting tangled up with men because the alternative—not being able to open jars or going your whole life without having someone around to help you with your luggage—is so unappealing.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Can you repeat that? It’s hard to hear you when you’re in the doghouse.”
I groaned. “What’s your point, Mac? Because it seems like the only one you’re making is that you’re the only fool who’s too clever to fall in love.”
“I’m not immune,” he said. “But I can’t say I’m looking forward to it.”
“Forget I said anything.”
“A relationship is a unique kind of abuse,” he said, ignoring my request. “You hitch yourself to another person even though their imperfections inevitably cause you incredible pain. So if you’re a well-adjusted person with any semblance of sovereignty and self-awareness, it’s only natural to give yourself grief if you see your singledom slipping away.”
“Are you seriously suggesting she hates herself for liking me back?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”
“Keep your day job, Mac. I don’t see relationship counseling being a lucrative career move for you.”
“Just trying to help.”
“Oh, you’ve been helpful,” I lied. “I can’t wait to call her up and tell her the great news that it’s actually herself she hates.”
“She’ll probably appreciate the validation. Women love to feel understood.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“An idiot who just lined up your dream gig.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I said, cutting my steak because it was something to do. “That’s why I haven’t kicked your shins under the table.”
He cocked his head. “Have you tried flowers?”
“No.”
“Flowers never hurt.”
It was the first sensible thing he’d said, but she was liable to let them wilt on her welcome mat. “I tried to tell her,” I mumbled, mostly to myself.
“What?” his brows drew together as he searched my eyes.
“Nothing.”
“I don’t mean to make light of your situation,” he said finally. “I know this must be hard for you since you don’t usually notice or care if people hate you.”
“True, but I don’t want to sleep with those people.” Or spoil them rotten. Or spend all my time thinking of ways to make them smile.
I shook my head and set my cutlery down when the memory of her throwing that leash at my feet flashed through my mind. A dog like me didn’t deserve steak.
Not until I figured out how to make things right with the angry pussycat next door.