Please? I miss you. I promise not to keep you up too late, his response read, followed by a winking emoji.
Avery rolled her eyes. So far she’d held her ground with Tucker. She didn’t want to jump back into things too quick. But her defenses were weakening. The day before, he’d shown up at her house with two boxes of chocolate covered elephant ears from the bakery. She hadn’t had one in ages and the fact that he’d remembered they were her favorites was sweet. He really did seem like he had changed.
Avery thought back to the conversations they’d had when they broke up. Avery suspected Tucker hadn’t actually wanted to end things but felt pressured by his family to cut ties. She didn’t exactly fit the mold of the perfect politician’s wife his father believed Tucker needed. Her father worked in construction and her mom was a librarian. They didn’t qualify as Charleston elite. But maybe Tucker had finally broken free of all that—the family pressure, the expectations.
She could let Tucker come over. She maybe even wanted to. But then she thought of David getting back from his date, and the invitation she’d issued for him to come over and tell her about it. Knowing David, he’d for sure come. And Avery didn’t want to be otherwise occupied if he did.
I miss you too, she texted Tucker. But I really need to get some sleep. Tomorrow night?
It was several hours later when he finally responded. I’ve got a work dinner, but I can come over after. It might be late.
Avery thought about the implication of his words. If he came late, it was almost inevitable where the night might lead. Was she ready to take their relationship back to that place? She wandered into the kitchen and pulled an elephant ear out of the cardboard packaging that sat on her counter. She took a big bite, then set it down, licking the chocolate frosting from her fingers. Tucker had been nothing but charming and attentive and solicitous of her feelings for weeks. He’d more than earned a second chance.
She went back to her phone to respond when the lights of David’s car flashed through her front window. Avery glanced at her watch. Just after ten. Not too bad for a first date. She watched through her window as David climbed out of his car then hesitated in his driveway, looking from his house then back to hers. She tried not to think about what it meant when he stepped toward her house and her heart jumped in her chest.
She swung open her front door before he’d made it all the way up the steps. “Hey,” she said. The night air was cool, so rather than inviting him in, she motioned to the wicker couch that sat at the end of the porch. “Want to sit out here?”
He nodded, his face still unreadable in the dim light.
She lowered herself beside him, turning her body sideways and pulling her legs up under her. “So? How was it?”
David looked at her and grimaced. “I . . . don’t think we will go out again.”
“Oh, no,” Avery said. “Why not? Is she not your type?”
“No, she was fine. Great. I just don’t think we really hit it off.”
Avery narrowed her eyes. There was something he wasn’t saying, but she didn’t want to push it. She’d get the whole story from Shelley at work the next day anyway.
“That’s too bad. But you have to start somewhere, right? You’re new in town, so dating at all is a big step. I’m proud of you for jumping in the pool.” She nudged him with her arm, referencing back to the conversation they’d had about his hesitance to get in the water at pool parties when he was a kid.
He shook his head and heaved a deep sigh. “This didn’t really feel like jumping in.”
“Why not?” Avery asked. “You did it. You went. You jumped.”
He scrubbed a hand across his face, clearly frustrated by something. “I know, but . . . the pool, it was something I really wanted to do. And this—” He leaned forward on his elbows, nervous energy radiating off of him in waves. “Shelley is nice, but she’s not what I want.”
Avery stilled, the words he wasn’t saying hanging in the air between them. She swallowed. “Well, that’s what dating is, right? It’s just a way to help us figure out what we do want.”
He looked at her then, his eyes clear and intense. “I already know what I want.”
Avery closed her eyes. If she kept them open, kept her gaze trained on David, she might lean in and kiss him and that was absolutely not what she needed to do.
She opened her eyes.
He leaned forward, just slightly, enough for her to know he felt the same pull. She moved toward him, her resistance all but completely crumbled. “David—” she whispered, her lips just inches away from his.
“I don’t think you should be dating Tucker,” he said, cutting her off.
Avery frowned, the magic of the moment wilting in the thick, humid air. She sat back on the couch, her cheeks red from their almost kiss. “What? Why?”
David stood up and moved to the porch railing. He was silent for a long moment before he turned around and spoke, his voice soft. “He’s not good enough for you, Avery. He’s an entitled jerk that . . . I don’t know. I just don’t think he’s right for you.”
Avery folded her arms across her chest, immediately defensive. Who did David think he was? He didn’t even know Tucker. They’d spoken two times and not for longer than five minutes. “You don’t get to be the one to make that call. Even if I did want the opinions of my friends, you don’t know him well enough to offer one.”
David scoffed. “I know. . .”
“You know what?” Avery said, suddenly wondering if David did know something she didn’t.
He turned away, shaking his head in obvious frustration. “Nothing. I know I don’t know him. I just . . .”
When he didn’t finish his sentence, it was Avery’s turn to scoff. “You just what, David? You can’t leave that hanging over my head like it’s perfectly normal for you to have such a strong opinion about a guy you’ve spent less than ten minutes with. I don’t know what your problem is with him, but you’ve got to back off. I thought we already talked about this.”
David breathed out a sigh then finally turned around to face her. “I’m sorry.” His tone was flat, emotionless. “You’re right. I was out of line.” He took a step backward toward the stairs. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I won’t mention Tucker again.”
Halfway down the stairs, he stopped and turned. “I do have to wonder, if things are so good between you and Tucker, why you just came that close to kissing me.”
Avery watched him walk across the grass to his own house, letting himself in the front door without a backward glance. She sank back into the cushions of the couch, completely steamrolled by the previous five minutes. She’d wanted to kiss David, felt a pull to him unlike anything she’d experienced in a long time. For a split second, she didn’t see her neighbor, or a nerdy doctor, or a socially awkward guy in glasses. She just saw a man, a man that looked at her like he saw her all the way to her soul.
And then he’d gone and ruined everything by mentioning Tucker. If he wanted to compete with the guy, the lesson he needed to learn most was to keep his opinions to himself. He’d actually had a fighting chance until he went and opened his mouth.
Avery stomped into her house, slamming and locking the front door with enough force to make her entire house shake. Without giving herself time to think about it, she crossed to her phone and texted Tucker. Late tomorrow is good. I’m already looking forward to it.
Chapter 12
David worked back-to-back shifts on Friday. Not because he’d planned to, or because he particularly wanted to. The ER had just been too busy for him to leave. He finally managed to head home just after six Saturday morning, after successfully delivering a baby in the front seat of a car in the parking lot of the ER. That had been a first, and it made for a pretty decent way to finish twenty-three hours on his feet. All he wanted now was a hot shower, a peanut butter protein bar, and twelve hours in his bed.
He reached the island just as the sky started to lighten, the wispy clouds over the ocean a stunning array of pink and orange
and deep yellow. It was almost enough to lure him to the beach to watch the sunrise. Almost. He pulled into his driveway and turned off the ignition, his head falling forward onto the steering wheel.
“Bed,” he said sleepily. “Bed would be good.”
He climbed out of his car and shut the door, turning when movement at Avery’s caught his eye. He froze, his blood running cold.
Tucker’s truck was in her driveway.
Tucker himself was standing on her porch, kissing Avery as she leaned halfway out her front door.
Well, then.
David shook his head and turned slowly toward his own house, too tired to care. No, not too tired to care. He definitely cared. Too tired to do anything about it? Absolutely.
He was almost to his front steps when Tucker called his name.
“Hey, David?”
David breathed out a weary sigh and turned around, his face expressionless.
“Man, you look rough,” Tucker said. “A lady friend keep you up all night, too?” He smirked.
“Yeah. She was eight pounds, three ounces and she and mom are both doing great.”
“Ha,” Tucker said with a chuckle. “Touché.”
“What do you want, Tucker? I just worked back-to-back shifts. I don’t really feel like talking.”
Tucker glanced over his shoulder as if to make sure Avery was well and truly inside her house and out of earshot. David had to wonder if she was watching through a window though. What would she think about Tucker approaching him?
“I don’t know what you were doing out at Jessica’s the other night,” Tucker finally said, “but I’m pretty sure you weren’t on a date.” He folded his arms across his chest. “It’s possible I asked around and couldn’t find a single person that recently moved into Jessica’s complex. Funny, right?”
David’s jaw tensed, but he said nothing. What could he say?
“You don’t want to go to battle with me, Doctor Daniels,” Tucker said, emphasizing the doctor. “You won’t win.”
David ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumped. He was way too tired to deal with Tucker. To deal with anything. “What are you trying to prove?” he finally asked. He looked Tucker right in the eye. “Why do it? Why hurt her like this? She doesn’t . . .” David sighed, not even sure what he was trying to say. “I know you think you’re just fooling around, but she doesn’t. She thinks this is going somewhere.”
“You don’t know anything about what Avery—” Tucker stopped and smiled, a knowing glint in his eye. “Oh, I see what this is. You like her.”
Was there not anything David could say to get rid of this guy? He opted for the direct approach. “Can you just leave? Please? I told you I wouldn’t say anything, and I won’t.”
Tucker took a step backward, laughing softly. “That would really be something,” he said. “You and Avery? I mean, I have to give you props for even thinking it’s possible.” He laughed again, a cruel, condescending laugh. “Talk about shooting for the stars.”
David turned and climbed his porch steps. Tucker had some nerve. How could Avery be so blind to the guy’s obvious lack of character?
“Don’t forget, Doc,” Tucker said as he continued to back away, just loud enough for David to hear. “I’m having dinner with Stevenson tomorrow night. It wouldn’t be hard for your name to come up.”
David unlocked his front door and stepped inside, slamming it closed behind him without acknowledging Tucker’s words. He was done. So done.
He dropped his phone and his keys onto his bedside table and pulled his shirt over his head. His bed called to him, but experience had taught him he’d sleep better if he washed the smell of the hospital from his skin. Minutes later, he climbed into his bed, muscles relaxed and skin red from the heat of his shower. He closed the blinds to the brightening day and checked his phone one last time.
He had a text message from Avery.
What did Tucker want?
David leaned back on his pillow, his phone pressed against his chest. How could he respond? For a fleeting moment, he thought about just telling her the truth. Oh nothing. He just wanted to threaten me again, intimidate me out of telling you that he’s engaged to someone else and is using you. But then Lucy’s words echoed in his mind. You don’t want to mess with the King family. He dropped his phone onto the bed beside him and rolled over, punching his pillow a few times before settling onto his side. Why did he even need to respond? Let her wonder what Tucker wanted. She could always ask him what he wanted. Let Tucker be the one to lie.
His phone buzzed with another text and he reached for it, annoyed with himself over how quickly hope swelled in his chest—hope that she’d texted him again.
Sorry, she had typed. You’ve probably been up all night. I should let you sleep!
David sighed. It’s okay, he texted. Not sleeping yet.
He tapped the side of his phone against his bare chest. Now what was he supposed to say? Withholding information was one thing, though that made him feel rotten enough. But he couldn’t outright lie. His conscience wouldn’t let him.
Another message from Avery popped up. It isn’t what it looked like. Tucker being at my house. We didn’t . . . nothing happened.
Relief washed over David, even as doubt niggled at his brain. That wasn’t what Tucker had said, though he was definitely more inclined to believe Avery over Tucker. You don’t owe me an explanation, he texted back. Because she didn’t.
I know, she responded. But I still wanted you to know.
David debated whether or not he should tell her what Tucker had said. Or implied, at least. But what good would that do?
So what did he want? Avery asked again. He was complaining about his wrist hurting and I told him he should ask your opinion. Was that it? I didn’t think he’d hit you up so soon.
I didn’t mind, David keyed out, grateful he didn’t have to lie outright. It wasn’t a big deal.
Oh. You looked angry, Avery texted back. I was worried.
I worked all night, David responded. I was just tired.
Anything exciting? her next text read.
David sat up, knowing he’d never keep texting if he stayed horizontal. I delivered a baby in the parking lot. I think that counts as exciting.
DEFINITELY, Avery texted back.
David stared at his phone, loving that Avery had initiated a conversation, even if it had started about Tucker.
I hoped they’d name the baby after me. Alas, it was a little girl.
Davina could be cute.
David smiled.
Another message popped up. Or, since this is the South, Daveen.
Davidina?
Oh! I googled it. Davinia is an actual real name.
Actually, they named her Avery, David replied.
WHAT. You’re joking, Avery texted.
Nope. Avery Jane. I like it.
I AM TOTALLY FREAKING OUT JANE IS MY MIDDLE NAME. Her message was followed by several *mind blown* emojis.
That’s crazy. Good karma for the baby, though. I mean, you’re pretty amazing, so . . .
When Avery didn’t text back, David briefly wondered if he’d overstepped. But he shook his worries away. He wasn’t going to apologize for how he felt about Avery. But maybe he should apologize for how their conversation had gone the last time they’d talked.
Avery, he typed. I’m sorry. He deleted the words and tried again.
Listen. I’m sorry about the other night.
Delete.
I’m sorry I was a jerk when we talked about Tucker.
Delete. Delete.
I know I was out of line, but Tucker is a cheating jerk and he doesn’t deserve you.
Delete. Delete. Delete.
Please leave him and love me instead.
Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete.
David heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes. He maybe shouldn’t be trusted with his phone on so little sleep. Before he could try again, another text from Avery popped up.
I
’m sorry I was so defensive the other night. Thank you for answering Tucker’s wrist questions.
Funny they’d been thinking along the same lines. Don’t apologize, David responded. I was the one who was wrong. I shouldn’t have judged. He didn’t text that he also should have just kept his mouth closed and let her kiss him, even though that’s exactly what he was thinking. They might be having a very different conversation if he’d let the moment play out.
Still friends? Avery asked. He’d never hated the word friends quite so much.
David responded immediately. Absolutely yes.
Chapter 13
Avery ate dinner at Melba’s house later that day. She reread her text thread with David while Melba rooted around in her kitchen. “You want hot sauce?” Melba called from behind the fridge door.
“And ruin a perfectly good bowl of shrimp and grits?” Avery yelled back.
Melba shuffled back to the table, the open bottle of hot sauce in her hands, and dumped a generous portion onto her own bowl. “Sometimes I don’t know how you call yourself a true Charlestonian.”
Avery rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever. Drowning the flavor out of your food does not make you more Southern than me.”
“Drowning, nothin’,” Melba said. “This here highlights the flavor. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Avery scooped up a bite of the creamy grits at the bottom of her bowl, sliding them through the thick tasso gravy before moving the spoon to her mouth. Avery was a sucker for Melba’s shrimp and grits. Nobody made them like she did. Still, Melba usually only offered them up when she felt like Avery was in need of some life-directing wisdom or a swift kick up-side the head. Avery knew as much, but could never bring herself to turn down the invitation. She’d take Melba’s advice if it meant eating Melba’s cooking.
Melba nudged the skillet of cornbread toward Avery. “Try some. And butter it. I did something different and want to know if you like it.”
Avery did as she was asked, cutting out a thick slab of the cornbread and slathering it with the butter that sat in a crock at the center of the table. She took a bite, chewing slowly as the flavors exploded on her tongue. She looked at Melba, eyebrows raised. “Did you . . . why does this taste like bacon?”
Always & Forever: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection, Books 1 - 4) Page 59
