T H I R T Y F O U R
T H I R T YF O U R
- Oliver -
I cracked my door at 6:25 and debated whether I should be waiting outside when the clock hit the hour. Simba rubbed his head against my ankle and made his escape plans known, so I knew I couldn’t waffle between in or out.
I would go stand and wait to be counted… or wait to be stood up, as the case might be.
A few minutes later, Avery cracked her door and stepped into the hall wearing sky-high heels and a short white dress, her legs on display to torture me, no doubt.
“The color of innocence,” I observed. “Well played.”
She strutted towards me, and relief relaxed my chest. “Whatever you have to say, I hope it’s not as annoying as the puzzle box.” Her eyes fell down the buttons of my shirt to the saucer in my hand, which held an overturned teacup.
“Thanks for meeting me halfway,” I said.
“Is that what this was about?”
“That, and I didn’t want you to slam the door in my face again.”
“I figured.”
I clenched my jaw and inhaled, doing my best to remain optimistic. After all, the fact that she showed up should give me hope.
“What do you have there?” she asked, staring down at the dish in my hand.
“It’s an amuse-bouche.”
Her long lashes batted towards it.
“I’m no good with pie, you see.”
She raised her eyes to mine. “I don’t want anything from you except an explanation.” Her stomach growled.
“You were planning to discuss our future on an empty stomach?”
“I didn’t think it would take long.”
I lifted the teacup off the saucer, revealing the perfect bite I’d made for her. It only took six tries to get the plating right, but it was worth it.
“What is it?”
“Whipped goat cheese on a Triscuit drizzled with a beetroot reduction.”
“A Triscuit?”
I extended the plate in her direction. She inspected the offering before popping it in her mouth.
Her eyes flashed with an excitement she suppressed quickly.
“Well? What’s the verdict?”
She licked her lips. “Moreish.”
I smiled. “Funny you mention that. I actually have a few more if you want to come over for a neighborly chat.”
“I wore my most uncomfortable shoes, so I can’t go far.”
“Think you can muster a few more meters?” I asked, extending a palm towards my door. “Simba would love to meet you.”
Her eyes were dark, hardened marbles, but I could tell her restraint was taking a lot of energy. “I suppose a neighborly chat wouldn’t hurt anything,” she said, stretching out the words.
I led the way, slipping in before her to make sure Simba didn’t complicate an already complicated situation by trying to make a run for it.
She took a deep breath when she stepped inside, her eyes darting around the place. “What’s that smell?”
“I’m making dinner.”
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
I feigned a scowl. “Of course I can cook,” I said. “I grew up in a kitchen. That’s why I’m a credible food critic.”
“Good point,” she said, her eyes drifting from the cat tree to my wraparound couch to the corner where I kept my drum set. “What are you making?”
“Lobster.”
Her brows jumped. “Wow.”
“It’s a special occasion.” I headed towards the kitchen.
“And what occasion might that be?” she asked.
I plucked the decanter off the counter and carefully poured two glasses of red wine. “The first time I had my hot neighbor over for dinner.”
“I never said I’d stay,” she said, her heels clacking across the wood floor as she came closer.
“Here’s hoping,” I said, bringing her a glass of wine.
She took it gratefully before looking around. “Your place is a lot nicer than mine.”
“Not nicer,” I said. “Just bigger.”
“That’s being kind.”
“I have my moments.” I gestured towards the couch.
She wandered over and sat down.
“Apparently it used to be two units, but the neighbors fell in love and combined them.”
“Really?”
I shook my head and sat down beside her. “No, not really. Would be ironic, though.”
“A little too ironic,” she said, no doubt fighting the urge to keep singing the catchy pop tune.
My eyes found hers and she sprang back up, unable to settle.
I watched her walk over to the kitchen, wishing I didn’t get the sense that she was trying to keep her distance. I hated how devilishly idle my hands felt went she wasn’t within reach, and I could tell by the sharp ache in my chest that I’d been missing her even more than I realized.
She scrutinized the ingredients I’d prepped, her expression giving nothing away as her gaze drifted from the parsley to the potato peeler. It occurred to me I probably looked similarly stoic when she first spotted me doing the rounds at the baking festival.
I’d done as much prep beforehand as I could. Some fathers taught their sons self-defense. Mine taught me there was nothing worse than having someone over for dinner and spending the whole time bent over the stove.
“Smells good,” she said finally.
“As good as forgiveness?” I asked.
She scoffed and looked towards the kitchen table. I’d set it for two, but I hadn’t lit the candles yet. Her gaze softened as she stared at the spread. “You went to a lot of trouble here.”
“You’re worth it.”
She picked up the plate with the rest of the goat cheese crackers and strolled back over to the couch, swinging her hips and sitting a little more assuredly this time.
Where was that lazy cat? He was so unwelcoming. I’d made it perfectly clear he was supposed to win her over.
She set the plate on the coffee table. “Sucks that we could’ve been hanging out this whole time.”
“You were always welcome here.”
There was a sadness in her voice when she spoke again. “Why didn’t you just tell me right away?”
“Because I didn’t know you.”
“You knew where I lived?!”
“What if you ended up being crazy?” I asked. “Or only liked me for my money?” It was a cheap argument, but stranger things had happened.
“What if I didn’t like you at all?”
“But you do.” I fought the urge to inch closer when I realized she’d assumed that same puffy body language Simba gets when he sees another cat and can’t decide if he’s under threat. “You liked me from the moment we met.”
Her eyes sharpened like I’d struck a nerve.
“And I wooed you fair and square.”
“From atop a throne of lies.”
I recoiled. “‘Throne’ is a strong word.”
“It bothers me that it was so easy for you to not mention that you were my neighbor,” she said. “Makes it seem like you think lying to me is no big deal.”
“It’s not that. I just assumed you’d hate it if you found out I lived next door.”
“I do hate it. I still hate it.”
I sighed. “It doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
“You gave me a leash , Oliver.”
“It was in poor taste,” I said. “If I’d known it was you, I obviously would’ve gotten a studded one.”
She failed to suppress a shy smile, and her cheeks bloomed pink. “I tried so hard to convince myself you weren’t the guy everyone else believes you are, and I got burned.”
“I’m only a man, Avery. I make mistakes all the time. I’ll mess up again, I’m sure, and it would be insincere of me to pretend otherwise. But I’ll come clean about anything you want. I don’t want to trick you into being with me. I don’t want you to give me another chance because of what anyone else says or thinks or believes…” I looked down at the space between us and took a deep breath before lifting my gaze again. “I want you to be with me because you know me and trust me and trust yourself with me.” I swallowed. “Your opinion about the kind of man I am…. It matters to me more than I can tell you.”
Simba slunk around the far end of the couch and rubbed his head against her ankles.
She looked down and trailed her fingertips between his soft ears.
“Will you stay?” My chest pinched at the words. “For dinner?”
Her eyes sparkled and then smiled. “For dinner.”