Page 29 of Hidden Hearts

"Is that any way to greet your friend?" I don't respond to his comment, just wait to hear the reason for him harassing me on my date with Avery. “Fine. I'm checking to see if you finished the Holbrook report yet. Kessler sent an email.”

On a Saturday.

Of course, he did.

Prior to Avery, it wouldn’t have bothered me because I’d still be working, but that’s changing now that I have someone more important in my life. “Ignore it until Monday. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re even checking your email today. That’s not like you.”

"Yeah, well, maybe your crazy workaholic ass is rubbing off on me." He laughs, and a chuckle wells in my chest, too. “Damn, Avery really has done a number on you, huh? Your sense of humor has been found.”

“Shut it. We’ll talk Monday.” With that, the call ends, and I shove the phone back into my pocket. Matt isn’t far off. I feel lighter than I have in years, thanks to Avery. Not because she’s all rainbows and butterflies—Avery is as grounded as me—but she’s got just enough of a rebellious spark inside to trigger my own, brightening my life a little more each time we’re together.

"Did something happen?" Avery asks once I return to our seats. She places a hand on my forearm in comfort, and the knots that usually tense my muscles slowly ease, melting away under her touch.

Avery soothes me so effortlessly, yet I guarantee she has no idea the power she wields over me. Covering her smaller hand with mine, I shrug. "Just Matt. He thought about being productive today."

Avery hums in her throat. "Uncharacteristic of him." Cheers blast through the stadium, and she takes that as her cue to move on, leaning back to explain the crazy double play I missed.

***

"I don't know how you sleep so much." We’re on our way back to Suitor’s Crossing after the game, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in traveling with Avery, it’s that she almost always dozes off while I drive.

"It's because all you listen to is talk radio. That and the motion of the car are like a straight shot of melatonin."

"Talk radio is informative and interesting. You should try listening more."

Avery scoffs. "Definitely not. As long as you're listening to people debate the merits of different investment accounts or whatever, I'm going to sleep. Especially since your car is the one magical vehicle I can actually do that in."

She goes to pop her earbuds in, preparing for another nap, when I stop her with a hand to her wrist.

"Play it over the speakers.” I motion toward the touchscreen on the radio. A few seconds later, her phone is connected to the speakers, and a cacophony of drums and guitars blare through the interior.

"What is this?”

"One of my car playlists. This is If These Sheets Were the States by All Time Low.”

The trip progressed with her playing different songs and informing me of all I've missed with my talk radio habit. I don't mind, though. I like hearing her voice, and the excitement that washes over her when one of her favorite songs comes on is adorable.

The windows are dark as I park in front of Avery’s apartment. A porchlight is on, but that’s it.

“Did Elsie go to bed already?”

“Nah, she’s gone this weekend. Went home to see her parents.”

Our seat belts unbuckle with loud clicks, then I escort her to the front door, wishing she’d invite me in. I’m not going to push because Avery is setting the pace of our relationship now that she’s finally agreed to be in one with me, but there’s no denying the desire flaring under my skin.

As if she heard my internal thoughts, Avery swings the door open and motions into the shadowy living room. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Is that what you want?” I ask, unsure if this is a nightcap situation or if she craves more like I do.

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise, Dom.” Holding her gaze, I step over the threshold and wait for her to lock the door. She doesn’t flip the light switch, keeping us in the dark, so I feel more than see her turning to face me.

My heart races at the inquisitive press of her palm to my chest, and the exploratory slide of her lips along my jaw wrests the air from my lungs.

“What are you doing, firebrand?”

“Surrendering,” she whispers, and it’s a lightning bolt straight to my cock.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

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