Page 93 of Leave Before I Love You
Maverick: YOOOOOOO. Come to Allure, you asshole!
I don’t even have the energy to reply. Not right now when I’m this fucking terrified something has happened to Avery. A pang of guilt over leaving her that morning on the island only intensifies the burn in my stomach, and just like that, I’m done waiting.
As I drive through the city, my mind replays every interaction we’ve had over the past month. The way she laughs, the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention, the way she feels in my arms. She’s everything I never knew I needed, and the thought of something being wrong… It’s unbearable.
Fuck.
By the time I reach Avery’s condo building, my body feels like a live wire, stress and worry and anxiety damn near choking the life out of me. I don’t waste any time parking and heading in the lobby doors. And once I’m in the elevator, the ride up to Avery’s floor feels like it takes decades.
The elevator dings, and I step out, striding straight for her door. My pulse pounds harder with every step. And when I reach her condo, I knock. Firm, but not aggressive.
No answer.
I knock again, louder this time. Still nothing.
Fuck.I’m ten seconds away from ripping this fucking door off the hinges with my bare hands.
Pulling out my phone, I hit her name and press call. The phone rings, and I hear it—through the door. She’s inside. I know she is. The faint sound of her ringtone filters through, and then the sound of footsteps fills my ears before the ringtone cuts off abruptly. Like she’s grabbed it to silence it.
My anxiety wanes, but my jaw tightens.
I swear, I’m going to spank her pretty little ass so hard if she’s put me through all this justbecause she’s avoiding me.
“Avery, it’s me, babe. Open up,” I say, my voice steady but demanding.
Silence.
I lean my head against the door for a moment, closing my eyes and testing my well of patience. “Avery,” I call again, knocking one more time. “What’s wrong? I’m worried about you. Why didn’t you show up tonight?”
There’s a pause, and then, finally, her voice comes through, muffled by the door. “Trust me, Henry. You don’t want to know.”
I roll my eyes.
“You’re wrong,” I say, stepping closer to the door. “I do want to know. Talk to me.”
“Not this,” she says, her voice breaking and softening me entirely. She’s not just throwing a tantrum—she’s genuinely upset. “You don’t want to know this.”
“Avery,” I say softly, pressing my palm flat against the door. “Please, just open the door so we can talk. Whatever it is, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
For a moment, there’s only silence. Then I hear movement. Her footsteps, I think. My breath catches in my lungs. The sound of the lock clicking echoes in the hallway, and finally, the door opens just a crack. Enough for me to see her face.
Her eyes are red, her cheeks streaked with tears. She looks like she’s been crying for hours, and the sight of her like this nearly breaks me.
“Avery,” I breathe, stepping closer.
She doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, her hand on the edge of the door, staring at me with an expression that’s a mix of heartbreak and fear.
I take another step forward, my voice gentle. “Talk to me, Ave. Please.”
Her lips part like she wants to say something, but then she presses them together tightly and shakes her head.
I reach out, brushing my hand lightly against the edge of the door. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it. Together.”
She looks down, her shoulders trembling, and after what feels like an eternity, she steps back, opening the door wider to let me in.
Step one accomplished. Step two, though?Seems like it might be harder.
Avery
