by Kate, Jiffy
When I open the door, I push it wide and check the surroundings. The alley is clear of visitors, so I step aside and let her walk out ahead of me. She pauses when she gets outside and looks around. “Where’s your bike?”
“There,” I tell her, pointing to the shed.
“Clever,” she says, nodding her head in appreciation. “It wouldn’t be a good idea to leave something as gorgeous as that bike out in the open. I wondered what you did with it.”
“Yeah,” I agree, not wanting that small talk I was trying to avoid, and walk to the shed, unlocking the door and sliding it open. Ducking my head, I walk into the darkness and lift the kickstand with my boot, rolling the bike out into the alley.
“Put this on,” I tell her, holding out an old helmet I keep on the back, just in case.
She puts the other strap of her backpack on her shoulder, securing it in place, and then takes the helmet from me. Thankfully, she doesn’t argue or hesitate. She just puts it on and fastens it below her chin. In the odd lighting of the alley, her hair looks even more muted and subtle, losing the pink hue I’m used to seeing on her. “Your pink is fading,” I comment before thinking.
Avery chuckles and shakes her head. “Yeah, I can’t decide if I’m going back hot pink or if I’m going to do something different.”
I huff my nonresponse, mentally kicking myself for saying anything, and climb onto the bike. “Hop on.”
She holds my shoulders and kicks a leg over the back of the bike, not needing any help or instruction, and I have to say, it does something to me. I know she said she’s ridden a bike before, but I guess I thought, maybe, she was bluffing. But it’s obvious she knows what she’s doing, just like everything else.
And that makes me wonder what else Avery Cole might be capable of.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yes,” she replies and it’s then I hear the excitement in her voice.
“Hold on.”
Avery’s hands go from my shoulders to my waist and she doesn’t hesitate when she slides them around my torso, holding on tight...just like I told her to.
Why was this a good idea?
Kickstarting the bike, I feel Avery shift behind me as she puts her feet up on the pegs. Trying to direct my focus somewhere besides everywhere Avery is touching me, I take off slowly, until we get to the street. Once there’s just open road in front of us, I give it some gas and Avery tightens her grip.
Okay, I did that on purpose. What can I say? I’m a fucking masochist.
She’s never told me where she lives, but I know where the house is. After she moved into another rented room a while back, she gave me the address for her employee file. I’ve actually driven by just to check it out and make sure it’s not some dump. She really does need to find something permanent. I know it’s weighing on her that she’s a week or two away from being homeless. I would never let that happen, but I would also rather not have to intervene.
I don’t take the direct route. Instead, I make the block and then another, avoiding Bourbon Street, because even at two o’clock in the morning, that place is swimming with drunk bastards. Avery doesn’t seem to mind. After a few more turns, she’s comfortably leaning into me, completely relaxed, as we take the streets of New Orleans.
A few minutes later, I slow the bike down and park against the curb in front of the brightly colored house where Avery rents a room. She doesn’t climb off right away or take her arms from around my midsection.
For a second, I think I’m going to have to manually remove her, but finally she lets go and slides off the bike.
“That was really fun.” When she takes off the helmet, the smile on her face is as bright as the house she’s standing in front of. “Thanks for bringing me home. Now, I’m really going to have to find an apartment so I can bake you some blondies.”
I feel my lips twitch. Before I can stop them, a smile is threatening to break and I turn my head away from her. “That’s not necessary,” I tell her, schooling my features before I turn back around.
“Man, I haven’t been on the back of a bike in forever.” She lets out a deep sigh and smoothes her hair back. “Makes me miss the farm.”
For a second, I just look at her, the realization that she’s here in the city alone hits me, not for the first time, but hearing her say she misses home makes it more real. “Do you think you’ll ever go back?”
“One of these days,” she says with a slow nod. “My mama expects me home for the holidays, but I’ve gotta find a place to live before I’ll agree to that. I need something permanent, so...”
“What?” I ask, wanting to know more—more about her.
“It’s kind of crazy, but I feel like if I go back home without having a place to live, it would be easy for my mama to talk me into staying and I don’t want that. I love it here. This is feeling more and more like home with every passing day. So, I want my own place and then I’ll go back to Oklahoma for a visit.”
I nod, understanding what she means.
“Where have you looked?”
“Ha.” Avery lets out a laugh. “Where haven’t I looked? That’s the shorter list. I’ve been everywhere, but all of the places have either been too expensive or too scary.”
I almost laugh again, just barely stopping myself, and I wonder why. For the first time in forever, I want to. I want to laugh with Avery. I want to return one of her killer smiles. But it all seems so foreign. I’ve spent so many years not doing those things, it’s like I’ve forgotten how.
“That pretty much sums up New Orleans,” I tell her, kicking my feet out a little so I can hold my bike up and sit comfortably. “You’re wanting to stay close around here, right?” I ask, thinking about any spots I might know.
“Yeah, I need to be within walking distance to the bar,” she says. “I also don’t mind having a roommate, but I’d prefer a girl. The only roommate ads I’ve followed up on have been dudes, and nothing against them, but I’m just...I don’t know...”
“No,” I interject. “That’s smart. You either need your own place or a girl roommate...no dudes.” I use her terminology and fight another smile. The thought of Avery rooming with some random guy does the trick, keeping my features cool and hard.
“I thought about asking my friend CeCe, but her place is super small. She lives above the coffee shop and there’s pretty much just room for her.”
I nod, thinking. Everywhere I know is closer to where I live, in the Garden District, but that’s too far for Avery to walk all the time. The only plus side is that I could make sure she gets home safe every night, which would also be the negative.
“I’m sure I’ll find something.” There’s worry in her tone this time and it makes me look at her, holding her gaze.
And her worry becomes my own.
Again, here she is, a woman, alone, in a new city...yeah, I admit it. Avery is a woman. I kept calling her a girl—new girl, the girl—and Sarah asked me why. Why did I refer to her that way? I don’t really know the answer to that. Maybe it helped keep her at a distance if I put her in a category like that. However, I’m well aware that even though Avery is young, she’s definitely not a girl. She’s all woman and more mature than people ten years older than her. Shit, she’s way more mature than I was at her age.
“You’re gonna find something,” I tell her, trying to sound encouraging. “If you don’t, you’ll always have a place to stay. The apartment isn’t being used on a regular basis. I can clear some stuff—”
“No.” Avery cuts me off, shaking her head. “I couldn’t do that. I know that’s like...your personal space, or whatever,” she says, fidgeting with the strap of her backpack. “I couldn’t let you give that up.”
“Well, I’d still come up there and work out,” I tell her, without thinking. “That’d just be part of the deal.”
Her eyes go wide and then she’s the one schooling her features. When she clears her throat and averts her gaze to the sidewalk beneath her feet, I allow a smirk. I’m pretty sur
e she’s hiding a blush on her pale cheeks. This response from her makes me think she’s possibly thought about this before—me working out...in the apartment.
“Of course,” Avery finally says, her voice an octave higher than usual, but her eyes are still on the ground. “Right, well, like I said...I’m sure I’ll find something. And,” she pauses for a second, clearing her throat again, “if I don’t, then...well, maybe I could stay at the apartment until I do.”
When she looks back up, her big, dark eyes bore into mine, and I feel it in my gut...and my dick...all the way down to my fucking toes.
“Thank you...for offering,” she says with a small smile, her expression holding a plethora of emotions—gratitude, confusion, unease, anticipation...maybe even lust.
“Don’t,” I demand. “Don’t thank me and don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” she asks, her eyes growing wider as she swallows hard.
“I don’t deserve that look...like you’re expecting something from me or grateful for something I’ve said or done. I’m not the hero here. And I promise you don’t want anything from me.”
“You’re a good person, Shaw.” She licks her lips and cuts her eyes away from me, huffing, before continuing. “You just don’t want anyone to know. You’re covering up something. Pain, hurt, heartache. . . I don’t know what it is, but it’s okay.”
I give her a small smile before I even realize I’ve done it and I see something else pass over her face—awe, wonder, elation? I’m getting ready to bark out a harsh laugh and turn this interaction around, shut her down with even harsher words, but she starts talking again...shutting me down.
“You should smile more often.” Her words are a whisper and I instantly regret letting the walls down. I didn’t even realize they were down until I started feeling something inside my cold, empty chest. My heart beats faster. My blood feels like it’s running warmer, spreading throughout my body.
And it’s too late.
Too late to take it back.
Too late to fortify the walls.
Avery has already bulldozed them with her beautiful face and sweet smile and even sweeter smell. The way she’s open and inviting and accepting of everyone, even losers like Jeremy and Kevin. She’s nice. To everyone. I can’t help but feel for her and appreciate her as a human being. Those feelings lead to others that I’m not ready to let myself feel. Not yet. Not with her.
What Avery does next is something that will haunt me forever. She takes a step forward, and before I know what’s happening, still lost in my own thoughts, she brushes her lips against mine.
It’s fast and soft and sweet. It’s everything and not enough all rolled into one.
What I do next is something that will also haunt me...but not doing it would’ve tortured me, so I reach out and grab the sleeve of her jacket, stopping her from retreating. She swallows, her eyes wide with shock, like she can’t believe she just did that.
Oh, but she did.
She started it and I’m going to finish it.
Stepping off the bike, I tower over her, consuming her space. I watch as her chest heaves in anticipation and her eyes grow wide with shock—probably due to her own actions and now mine. Not allowing time for second guesses, I cup her cheeks and tilt her chin, rubbing my thumb along those lips, those fucking plump lips, and then I kiss her back—taking what I’ve wanted from her since the first day she walked into my bar.
Tasting her.
Feeling her.
Her breath is hot as she exhales sharply when I pull back to give her a chance to tell me to stop, but she doesn’t. Instead, she settles into the kiss and opens her mouth, giving me access. Our tongues brush and I feel my cock harden. Between her sweet smell, soft moans, and delicious mouth, I’m ready to mount her, right here on the sidewalk.
When her hands grip my biceps, something about it brings me back to reality.
Pulling away from her, I gain the distance I need to breathe and fucking think. As my eyes trace the features of her face, appreciating her for the first time from this proximity, the reality of what I’ve done—what we’ve done—hits me.
Her lips are fuller and swollen.
Her eyes are wide and dreamy.
When her tongue darts out and licks, I force myself to look away.
No, no fucking way.
Climbing back on the bike, I drop my foot down on the pedal barely waiting for it to roar to life before I drive off, leaving Avery standing on the sidewalk.
She’s home.
She’s safe.
And I’ve gotta get the fuck out of here before I breach the point of no return.
When I look back and see her still standing there, I know I’m fucked.
I am so fucked.
Chapter 13
Avery
I kissed Shaw.
That was the first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning. My second thought was: Shaw kissed me. And boy, did he kiss me. Where mine was sudden and quick, more of an outward show of gratitude, Shaw’s kiss was demanding and intense, just like him.
And I liked it.
I like him.
I’ve known this fact for a while, but now that our lips have actually touched, in real life, and not just in my incessant dreams, I know the reality is better than the fantasy. He tasted like mint and a hint of beer, but it wasn’t off-putting, just wholly Shaw. His smell, up close, was even more manly and intoxicating than when I pass him at the bar. It’s a mixture of clean cotton and leather and some kind of spicy cologne. The combination should be bottled up and sold, because it’s damn sexy, just like its owner.
To be honest, I don't know why I kissed him.
Maybe it was a momentary lapse in judgement?
Maybe I was acting on impulse?
Maybe I just don’t care anymore?
Besides, it was just a kiss. What’s the worst thing that can happen?
Well, besides him firing me, which has crossed my mind.
But, he kissed me back, so I’m not the only one at fault here.
I guess he can still fire me, but that would be a seriously asshole-ish thing to do and I know Shaw can be a serious asshole, but something tells me he wouldn’t fire me over a kiss.
And, you know what, I can’t be held fully accountable. It’s technically his fault, because Shaw smiled...at me. It wasn’t big or intentional, but it was something and it did something to me. I forgot myself and who I am and who he is. It made me dizzy with appreciation. I’ve been wanting to see that smile again since I caught him smiling at Sarah. Now that I know he can and I know how resplendent he is when he does it, I was craving it—needing it like my next breath.
So when he finally did smile at me, I lost my mind.
That’s it, temporary insanity.
If he seems angry about it, I’ll plead insanity.
All of these thoughts are playing on repeat when I step inside Neutral Grounds, later than usual. My shift at the bar doesn’t actually start until eight o’clock tonight. Since we stay open until at least two on weekends, Shaw let’s all of us alternate coming in late. Except Paulie. Paulie just gets the shaft. He’s always there, probably more than Shaw, but I can tell he loves it...maybe just as much as Shaw.
“Hey!” CeCe calls out when she sees me. There are a few customers in front of me, so I take a seat at one of the tables and wait for everyone to clear out. I ate breakfast in my room before I left, but I still need some caffeine. Since I have the afternoon free, I’m going on another apartment hunt today. Pulling out my phone, I begin scrolling through the screenshots I took of online advertisements. I’ve decided that if all else fails, I’ll just see about renting another room through the holidays, but I’m really hoping I don’t have to do that.
“Your usual?” CeCe asks when the bell rings on the door and the last of the customers walks out.
“Yeah, but I’ll take it hot today,” I tell her. “I know it’s still eighty degrees, but that feels like winter compared to last week
and it’s hard for me to drink iced coffee this close to November.”
“How’s the apartment hunting going?” she asks as she starts my espresso shots.
The increased aroma of coffee immediately soothes my frayed nerves and calms my mind. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. “Well,” I start, letting out a deep breath, “Not great. Everywhere I went last week was too expensive. The one place I thought might be a possibility called back yesterday to say it’s been taken. So, the only options left from all the ones I’ve already seen are ones with male roommates and I just don’t think that’s the right fit for me.”
“Yeah,” CeCe agrees. “I don’t like that—rooming with some dude you don’t know.” She frowns, shaking her head. “It’d be different if it was a co-worker or something.”
I sigh again, standing and walking to the counter. “That’s not happening. The only guy I work with that I’m very close to is Jeremy...well, besides Shaw...and, yeah, neither of them is an option,” I say with an exasperated laugh. “So not an option.”
“What’s that tone for?” CeCe asks, setting my coffee down in front of me.
“What?”
“What happened?” she pushes.
“Nothing. Why?” I ask, my voice going up an octave. I’m a horrible liar. Horrible, horrible liar.
CeCe’s eyebrow lifts and she tilts her head to the side. “Something happened.”
“I kissed Shaw,” I blurt out and then take a tentative sip of my coffee. The near boiling liquid scorches my tongue, but I let it, keeping me from saying anything else I’ll regret. The way CeCe’s mouth is hanging open and her eyes are wide, I’m going to guess she’s thinking what I’ve been thinking.
“What the hell?”
“I know,” I groan, holding my head in my hand. “I know. Such a bad idea. And I can’t even blame it on booze. I was totally sober, unless you count being intoxicated on Shaw’s smell, which totally doesn’t count because it wasn’t until I was up close and personal that I got a good, honest whiff, and Holy Jesus, did he smell good. And the kiss. The kiss was...I don’t know. I mean, I like went in for a seventh-grade-spin-the-bottle-kiss and then he went in for a push-you-up-against-a-wall-and-fuck-you kind of kiss, which I would’ve let him do, by the way.”
