Page 27 of Salvatore

Chapter Nine

Aedry

Salvatore’s comment is meant as a warning and that’s how I take it. He’s not like the beta men I’ve always dated. Oh, no. He’s very alpha, his mere presence commanding respect, or else.

I’m not blind or naïve. The way he held the gun with ease demonstrated his readiness to pull the trigger. He’s a man used to violence and seizing control. It makes sense, given his family history and the rough streets he grew up in, but I’ll confess, it was hard seeing that side of him.

I don’t want to believe that he’d tread on the wrong side of the law, so instead of focusing on what he might be capable of, I remind myself that almost everyone in the south, including my immediate family, owns a gun. “You have to be ready to protect yourself and those you love,” my granddad told me every time I’d find him cleaning his rifle.

He’s right and Salvatore did use his gun to protect me.

Despite witnessing his aggression, I don’t cancel our dinner plans.

I pause in the middle of sweeping my lashes with mascara. There’s something about him that invites me closer, luring me into his dark embrace and stirring my primal need like a cyclone.

A knock on my door has me hurrying to finish. Oh, no. He’s early.

The second knock has me racing. “Aedry?”

My steps slow as I reach the door, the familiar voice of my former roommate and loving bestie making me grin. I open the door. “Hey, Autumn.”

She yanks me against her, hugging me against her tall, slender frame. “Hey, stranger,” she says. “One of your slutty friends was nice enough to let me in.” She glances back to where Christy is standing outside her apartment, scowling and clutching her bag of groceries under her arm.

Autumn whips her head back, her eyes wide. “Do you think she heard me?” she whispers frantically.

Given how hard Christy slams the door, I’m certain she did. I try not to let it bother me. When I checked on her and the rest of the girls earlier, they were pissed their good time ended, and annoyed they were escorted out. Unlike me, they’d taken the ecstasy willingly and it hadn’t been their first time.

I haul Autumn inside. I love her dearly, but smooth and unassuming are the last two words I’d use to describe her. She steps back enough so I can close the door. “You look nice. Are you going out?”

“I am,” I say beaming. “If you can believe it, I’m going to dinner with a hot guy I have no business dating.”

“You’re kidding?” She shoves her quirky green glasses back on the bridge of her nose. Despite the silly frames and the pile of messy red hair held on top of her head by a well-placed number two pencil, she looks beautiful, even though she wouldn’t believe anyone who told her. “Who is this stud and how did you meet him?”

I scrunch my nose. “His name is Salvatore. He’s the guardian of two students I council.”

“Whoa, Nellie.”

“I know.”

“Aedry.”

“I know!”

She tilts her chin. “I’m guessing our Dr. Who marathon is off for tonight.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I forgot all about it.”

She holds onto her grin, but I don’t miss the disappointment in her features. Like me, Autumn spends too much time working and most of her free time alone. In a way, she’s worse off, hindered by her awkwardness and her disastrous track record with men. Two of her serious boyfriends became priests, choosing God over her. The other two chose men. Autumn blames her performance in bed for permanently turning them off to women. I can’t really blame her. It’s safe to say her experiences haven’t exactly been confidence boosters.

“Aedry, don’t look so sad. It’s okay. If I had to choose between a make-believe man on TV and a real one, I’d choose the real one for sure.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says, gripping my shoulders. “One of us has to get a view of something other than vagina.”

I laugh. As a midwife dedicated to serving the public sector, she always seems to have an array of genital jokes. I suppose it helps her cope with all the difficult aspects of serving those from underprivileged environments. She loosens the buttons to her white coat. Poor thing must have spent her day at the homeless shelter, and here I am ditching her.

I take her hand in mine. “Would you like to come with us?” I offer.

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