by Laura Brown
I nearly laughed those thoughts out of my head. Way to jump into the deep end. New was the right word. Too early to worry about any of this crap.
Mom had removed her hand and begun talking about something at the bakery with Hannah. I flipped my phone over.
Avery: This place is so loud. I’m used to things being quiet without the second hearing aid. I’m debating taking it off.
Me: What would it change?
Avery: Nothing but potentially save me from the headache brewing.
Me: Then take it off.
Avery: Not that simple. Once I take it off, I need to pop out the battery before it whistles, then I need to clean the mold, then I need to find a safe place to put it.
Me: If I were there, I’d offer a pocket.
Avery: I have a pocket. But then there’s lint and dust and a mold wet with earwax. It’s not pretty.
Me: Doesn’t bother me.
Avery: I opened the battery door. Ahh, sweet diminished noise. Of course, the door is now digging into my ear, but it’s the price I’ll have to pay.
Me: I’ve missed this.
So help me, I did. A weight lifted off my shoulders, all because we interacted.
Avery: What?
Me: Chatting with you.
Avery: Our texts have never been this tame.
One line. That was all it took for my dick to wake from his slumber and demand treats. Only Avery had that magic touch. And I hoped like hell that worked in reverse.
Me: True. I can change that if you want…
Avery: If I’m surrounded by my family, I’m betting you’re surrounded by yours.
Me: Just Mom and Hannah.
Avery: All the more reason to not go there.
Me: It could be fun.
Avery: Down, boy.
Me: Later?
Avery: I don’t know. I’m not normally like that.
There it was, the hesitance that first appeared after we discovered who each other was. A hesitance that hadn’t existed prior. Avery might have enjoyed the anonymity, but it was there, in her, and there was no reason it had to stop. Didn’t she know how much more fun it could be in person?
Me: You seemed to enjoy it.
Avery: I did. But it feels strange now.
Sucker punch.
Me: Like us?
Avery: Yes.
I pushed my phone aside, trying to get rid of the uneasy feeling, not knowing how to respond. Also knowing the more I texted her, the more suspicious my family would get.
“How’s Avery?” Mom’s voice rang out.
“Good.” And that felt strange. She wasn’t good. She was probably bored out of her mind if she couldn’t hear. On that thought I grabbed my phone.
Me: I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.
Avery: Thanks. Regardless of anything, thank you. I always overeat when I can’t communicate.
Me: Funny, I’d never guess that.
Avery: My physical form has nothing to do with the fact I just snatched up another roll and lathered it with butter. And it’s not even a good roll. I’m going to have a talk with Mom about where she got her bread.
Me: Baking snob.
Avery: Damn straight. It comes with the territory. As you well know.
I glanced at the two women discussing shop across the table.
Me: Very true.
Avery: You either feel the same about your food or are rolling your eyes.
Me: Growing up the son of a baker does make store-bought bread a bit of an anomaly.
Mom raised her voice, her words intended to be heard but not directed to me. “That boy is a goner.”
Hannah laughed. “Ya think? At least we both approve. This one’s a much better choice.”
Me: If I keep texting you, my family is going to get ideas.
Avery: Shame mine doesn’t realize I’m lost.
I sent her a frowning emoji. She was too bright to be left alone. How did no one notice?
Avery: It’s okay. I’m used to it. And, look at that, I just grabbed another roll.
Me: I’ll never do that to you. If I was there, I’d make sure you could hear.
Avery: Funny, because you’re not here and are still my main source of entertainment. Go, be with your family. I’m going to see what’s happening on Twitter.
I reluctantly put my phone down.
“Everything okay?” Mom asked.
I hesitated for a second, then figured, screw it, my family needed to know about Avery’s needs. “Avery’s gathering is so noisy she can’t participate.”
“That sucks,” Hannah said.
“Promise me we’ll never do that to her.”
Mom and Hannah shared a look. “That sounds more than ‘new.’”
I picked up my fork, only to put it down again. “It is. But I don’t know what it is yet.”
“I could give you a few hints.” Hannah was cut off by a stern look from Mom.
“You’ll figure it out.”
*
Avery was still on my mind as I flicked on the lights after arriving home. I had stayed late, the three of us watching a movie, and was in that tired yet unsettled state. Bed called to me, but my mind wandered, and my fingers itched to do something, anything, rather than sleep. I stripped and dropped onto my bed, not bothering to get under the blankets because I knew sleep was a long way off.
The only thing I wanted to do was text Avery. I tapped my fingers against my comforter. Contemplated watching another movie or reading a book. None of it appealed like one dark-haired beauty. What could it hurt? I collected my phone.
Me: Surviving?
My phone was quiet for long enough that I grabbed my book off the nightstand and tried to remember my spot. A phone call interrupted me. From Avery.
“I don’t do phone calls often, but I can’t text and drive. Fair warning, there’s about a 70% chance I won’t hear you, not in my car.”
I cleared my throat and tried my best to be clear. “I was checking up on you. Where are you?”
“Wow, I can just about make you out. I’m on the Mass Pike. Got about an hour to go.”
“You’re driving home this late?”
“I’ve got work in the morning. And large gatherings make it hard to skip out early.” She yawned, hitting my worry mode into full gear.
“You shouldn’t be driving so late.”
“I’m fine. I had the radio going, which keeps me up. And we both know I don’t sleep. I probably have a good three hours before my eyes will close and stay closed.”
“As long as it’s not driving.”
“What?”
Static came over the phone, and I had to repeat myself four times before she heard.
“I’m impressed, you really did repeat yourself as often as needed.”
“No reason to make that an issue. It would be like someone being upset with me because I limp.”
Again, she couldn’t hear me. This time, it took six tries and a lot of guessing on Avery’s part to get my point across.
“This call isn’t going to work, Jake.”
“I know. Let me know when you get home. Or stop by, I’m closer to the Pike than your place.”
“I don’t have your address.”
“I’ll text it to you. Drive safe.”
“That’s the plan.”
I hung up the phone and quickly texted her my address. I had no clue if she’d stop by or not. I bet on not, considering she had work in the morning. Still it would be nice. And I was less tired than I was before, so I threw on some sweatpants and picked up around my house. By then it had been forty-five minutes since I spoke to Avery, and I knew I couldn’t sleep until I heard from her. I settled in the den to watch some television, flittering through the channels without landing anywhere.
One would think I was waiting for Hannah to arrive home.
I had finally found a cop drama that looked as though it would hold my interest, when my phone vibrated and I lunged for it like a dying man.
&
nbsp; Avery: You still awake?
Me: Yeah. You home?
Avery: Did I misunderstand you? Now I’m embarrassed, you had texted your address…
I sat up straight and moved to the front window, where a car idled in my driveway.
Me: You understood. I didn’t know which you’d choose. Come in.
Avery: It’s a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn’t.
Me: Avery, get out of the car. It’s late and you’ve been driving for how long?
Avery: Three hours, closer to four.
Me: You’ve got to be exhausted.
Avery: Odd thing to say to an insomniac.
Me: Appropriate thing to say. Are you coming in or are we going to continue this conversation a few feet apart?
I opened my door to help encourage her, the cool breeze bringing in the sweet nighttime smells and freezing my torso. The lights came on in her car and her door opened. I tracked the dark form as she moved around her vehicle and up the path. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and even though I had seen her just a few days ago, the relief I felt was indicative of a much longer time.
Avery’s eyes went to my bare chest, lingering low on my abdomen. Funny thing about what she’d seen of me and what she hadn’t. I opened the screen door for her, got a good look at her worn face.
“You’re tired.”
She stepped in and dropped her purse on the chair near the door. “Yes. I had planned on going home, but the thought of driving for even fifteen more minutes made my eyes want to cross.”
I pulled her to me and wrapped my arms around her, glad to have her here and safe. She hesitated, but put her head on my shoulder, her hands on my back, more frigid than the air surrounding us.
“You’re cold,” I said.
“I had the windows down to help me stay awake.”
I stepped back and tugged on her hands. “Come on. I’m setting you up in my room. I’ll take the spare room or couch if you need me to.”
She didn’t resist and I began to wonder if she heard me. When we got to my room, she leaned against the wall and yawned. “I should really go home.”
“Not until you sleep.” I drew back the covers and turned to her and the wariness on her face. “I won’t do anything.”
“I know. It’s just, I’m used to being this tired, you know? But my mind’s racing and that usually means I can’t get any sleep.”
“Has it always been this way?”
She focused on her feet. When she spoke again, her voice came out in a soft whisper. “This started a year ago. Fourteen months, to be exact.”
My hackles rose and she refused to look at me. I wanted to match her whisper, but doubted she’d hear. I kept my voice normal. “What happened fourteen months ago?”
Those brown eyes held a world of hurt as she looked me square in the eyes. “Erik, my boyfriend, he…died.”
My heart ached for her pain even as I stifled a twinge of jealousy at there having been someone else. That wasn’t the whole story, not enough to stop her from sleeping. “How?”
She swallowed, but her eyes stayed on me. “Aneurysm. One minute we’re walking along a sidewalk, discussing bakery plans, the next minute he collapsed and never moved again.”
Jesus. I hauled her into me and held her close. She sniffed but didn’t relax. I couldn’t imagine what that would do to a person. Insomnia worked.
She pulled back. “They gave me sleeping pills, but those can be addicting, too addicting. When I started reaching for them before I even attempted sleep, I knew I had to stop. So I did. Stopped sleeping, too, but better than fueling an addiction.”
She laughed, a brittle sound.
I didn’t know what to say beyond, “I’m sorry.”
One shoulder lifted. “You’ve got your own not so nice stories. What doesn’t break us makes us stronger, right?”
Right now, hers broke more than made. I thought of her in my arms, how tight her body seemed. I also thought of how she’d mentioned my texts had helped her sleep in the past. Avery needed to relax.
I limped to a cabinet and pulled out a T-shirt. “Here, change into this and I’ll be back.”
“What?”
I stopped inches from her. “I know you, Wrong Number; you need to relax. Get ready for bed. I’m going to see if a back massage will help you sleep.”
The thought of my hands on her made me hard, but helping her was worth it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a back massage before.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
“Then this is long overdue.” I closed the door behind me and paced through the house, trying to give her plenty of time to change. When I couldn’t stop pacing anymore, I went back to my door and knocked. No answer.
I shifted the door open. “Avery?”
She lay on the bed, under my sheets, dark hair covering the pillow. I started to think she was tired enough that she’d fallen asleep, but when I sat on the edge of the bed she turned. “Sorry. I took my hearing aids off.”
One of her ears was visible, and I noticed it was, in fact, empty of everything except for a hoop earring. I raised my voice. “Can you hear me?”
“Now, yes, once you get behind me, probably not.”
Something about the way my single lamp illuminated her face, or seeing her under my blankets, wearing my T-shirt. It warmed my heart and I leaned in for a kiss. Sweet and short, though the temptation was there. “Lie down, close your eyes, and relax.”
Avery chuckled. “Yes, sir.”
She settled down and I straddled her, taking a moment to get a comfortable position for my bad leg. Then I dug my hands into her shoulders and Avery moaned. “If you keep that up, you’re going to turn me on.” Well, more so than I already was.
She picked up her head and turned to me. “What?”
Idiot. “Sorry, your moan got to me.”
She sent me a smile filled with sin. “Sorry.”
And then lay back down.
I worked my hands over her back, starting with her shoulders, moving down to the dip in her back. I kept my hands from her sides and was careful not to cross any lines. The feel of her beneath me was enough to light my flame.
Avery’s body relaxed as I worked. Slow and sure the tension evaporated from her body. Even when I was sure she’d fallen asleep, I kept going. I wasn’t ready to stop touching her, and I didn’t want to stop before she was ready.
When my leg began to ache, I eased off her, angling to the side where her eyes were closed and her lips parted. Pride filled me, that I could do this small thing for her. I moved to leave, and her hand shot out, gripping my arm.
“Stay,” she whispered, and went back to sleep, as if she hadn’t woken up.
I hesitated, unsure if I should listen to her or not. But the outline of her body, the fact she was there, I knew I couldn’t resist. I flicked off the lights and climbed in behind her. She shifted back to me, a heat-seeking missile, until I spooned her and had her secure in my arms. A tiny sigh escaped her lips, her body relaxed as could be.
Her voice rang in my head. “I’m temporary.”
The woman in my arms didn’t feel temporary. Not the slightest bit.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Avery
There are mornings when the world is out of focus and reality skewed, when the journey back to the awake world is muddled in confusion. Silly questions emerge in times like this. The top, for me: where the hell am I?
The room was dark, so at least I knew I wasn’t in trouble with work. But everything about the room felt off. The way the electronic lights played against the walls and furniture, the feel of the bed and sheets, and the warm body behind me.
I blinked, my mind working through cobwebs as the previous night—or several hours earlier—came to mind. Namely stopping at Jake’s house and falling asleep with his hands on my back.
Now he slept behind me, even though he said he’d sleep elsewhere. I tried to get mad about that, but not with how good he felt to c
uddle into. Certainly not with the vaguest recollection of asking him to stay. Damn. I couldn’t trust myself. Not around Jake.
I needed to move, to get ready for the day. But the weight of his arm around my waist, coupled with the light puffs of air against my neck from his breathing, had me spellbound. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay.
Get a grip, Avery. I shifted, attempting to extricate myself from his hold and get out of bed. Only I ended up wiggling my rear into his crotch, and all my thoughts turned dirty at the feel of the bulge nestled against my butt crack.
Jake’s arm tightened around me. He pressed his face into my neck and shifted closer, accentuating a part I’d seen, not felt before. My body turned liquid, awakened by his touch and presence. Even as he slept.
I chided myself and gripped his wrist, ready to lift enough so I could squirm free. He refused to move, an immovable force. He shifted closer again, his hand on my stomach. Hell of a time for me to realize my shirt was high on my hips and if his fingers moved less than an inch he’d meet my skin.
Jake said something, words a mumbled, jumbled mess as not enough of it made it through to make any sense. I turned my head, saying my default word, “What?”
My eyes had adjusted to the dim light, and I caught him blinking awake, mouth shifting into a sleepy grin. He said something again, then his eyes closed and he wrapped me back into his arms.
This was not going well. Or it was going very well but not in the way that got me to work on time.
“Jake. I need to move.” Or find the time to see if I had to move at all.
My voice must have woken him up. His head lifted and he tried speaking again. But even though I could catch a shadow of his face, I couldn’t use his lips to help me hear. “I can’t hear you.”
His voice came through, and his arm left, no longer holding me down. I had my window of opportunity to move. He rolled over and the next thing I knew, light filled the room and I had to blink to adjust. Jake hovered over me before I could react.
“I need to go.” My words were contradicted when I didn’t move. Not an inch. Not with him there, strong and sure and oh so tempting.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, amazing me that I could hear him.
