Page 61 of Resisting the Grump

The thought of confiding in Grace crossed my mind, but I could tell by her attitude it would’ve been a waste of breath. I was no more welcome at the café than I was at Avery’s door.

Fortunately, sulking wasn’t my style, but I was stressed. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t shake the idea that I might’ve spoiled my shot with the only woman who’d truly wowed me in years. And it wasn’t just her looks or laugh or light-heartedness that appealed to me. It was her self-assuredness and her intelligence and her sexual appetite. She made me want to be more open. To life. Maybe even love.

I thought I was protecting our budding relationship by keeping the inconvenient truth of our close quarters confidential. But avoiding awkwardness had only led to agony...Least of all because it looked like I was going to go to my grave without ever knowing her intentions for that lube.

After getting the cold shoulder at the café, I tried to convince myself I was better off without her. But I didn’t even make it a block before I realized that was never going to work. The harder I tried to come up with all the reasons she was overrated, the more I realized I had nothing but evidence to the contrary.

She was unforgettable.

She was everything I wanted.

And she was fucking next door and not talking to me.

What the hell was I thinking? Did I really think my charisma and how much I cared about her was going to overshadow the fact that I’d been keeping secrets from her? That was almost as dumb as her dismissing our undeniable connection because of a harmless miscommunication!

After all, it’s not like she’d explicitly asked me where I lived. Because that wasn’t important! What mattered was the comfortable way our conversations flowed and the smile on her gorgeous face when she collapsed in her tousled sheets, spent from head to toe. Excuse me for not busting out my address book when I was blinded by all the beautiful ways she blushed.

Just thinking about it made my heart ache. And my head. And my hands.

I had to fix this. No question.

“I thought you’d be more excited,” Mac said, picking up a crispy potato wedge.

“I am excited.”

“It’s exactly the fee you wanted, and they’re going to let you play the nice guy.”

I dragged my pilsner closer. “I’m not playing the nice guy, Mac. I am a nice guy.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Not yeah yeah,” I said. “I’m sick of people thinking I’m an asshole who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. It’s not true.”

His eyes widened. “You want to calm down there, tiger?”

“I’m calm.”

“Why don’t you take your rage out on that steak you’ve barely touched?”

I glanced down at my plate and thought of the steak dinner I hadn’t shared with Avery. She would’ve loved that place with its soft candlelight and cavernous stone walls. I’d even arranged a tour of their wine cellar before dinner to stoke our appetites. I figured I’d buy a few bottles of whatever she liked best as a souvenir of sorts that would stretch out the memory of a lovely time shared.

What a schmuck.

“You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” Mac asked, cutting his flaky lemon sole with the side of his fork. “Does it have anything to do with that neighbor you’re having trouble with?”

“It does actually.”

“What’s the issue?” he asked before filling his mouth so I’d have to fill the silence.

“I’m crazy about her, and she hates me.”

“She probably doesn’t hate you,” he said. “She probably just hates herself.”

I furrowed my brow. “Actually, she doesn’t hate herself. That’s one of the many things I like about her. It’s definitely me she hates.”

“Ehh. I bet she hates herself.”

“That’s ridiculous. She has no reason to—”

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