Page 68 of Billionaire's Promise
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"The only person I feel comfortable around completely is my mother. I let my emotions out with her, and for that I am thankful."
-From Ava's Diary
Ava
"Jerk." I stare through the window of my bedroom at the SUV parked across the street. Through the tinted glass, I can make out the outline of the man inside, but not his rough-hewn features, not the breadth of his shoulders, or how he seems to soak all of the oxygen in the space.
Of course, the asshole is still there. God forbid that he break his promise to his friend. Men. I snort. They’d stand by each other… Make sure that no woman can come in between them… And me? What about me? Where do I stand in all this? Nowhere. That’s where I am. He’d made that abundantly clear. So why am I still standing here, trying to catch a glimpse of him?
"What’s wrong with me?" I turn away and begin to pace the living room. He’d flung that last comment at me, and I had been so shocked, I had allowed him to shut the door in my face. I’d rushed toward him, wanting to get the last word in, hoping that I could stop him, maybe. Maybe I’d held onto a sliver of hope that insisted that he was putting on an act…but…
No, he’d meant it. He’d meant every last, single, hurtful word that he’d carelessly tossed my way.Shit, shit, shit.How could I have allowed myself to become so entangled with this man? I’d allowed him into my life, into my heart. Shit. Tears well up and I wipe them away angrily. I will not cry over him. Will not. My face crumples. I turn around and walk into the bedroom, through to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I stand under the hot water, allowing it to pour over me. Soaking in the warmth, the comfort, the memory of the heat of his body that had curled around me, protecting me, cocooning me when he had last been in here with me. He’d held me, soothed me, rocked me, then carried me out of the cubicle and dried me.
He’d taken care of me…like he’d said he would… Only he hadn’t. It had all been an act. Or had it? Damn the man, he had been so convincing. I had been sure that he felt something for me. But then again, what would I know about that? I have so little experience with men. No wonder, I thought I was in love with Edward. Maybe it’s the speed with which things took place with him that made me mistake what I felt for him? Maybe I am not really sure what I feel for him... Or for Baron, for that matter. It's just, each time he’d fucked me…it had felt like more than just a shag… It had felt…as good as being with Edward. Shit. Why am I comparing the two of them? They are nothing alike… Except that they know each other. What are the odds, huh? The only two men I’ve slept with…know each other, hate each other, yet seem to care for each other.
But do either of them care about me?
I sleep with Edward and he leaves me. Then I fall into bed with Baron and he promptly decides to run away from me. Why is it that I seem to be attracted to the same kind of man, and within such a short period of time? The kind who'll shag me, then fuck off at the first sign of feeling something for me? Is it me? Is there something wrong with me that these guys don't stick around?
I switch off the shower, dry myself, then put on my clothes. My phone pings. I walk over to my bedstand, pick up my phone and glance at the text message.
Raisa:Have you made up your mind yet about coming to Dad's wedding?
I stare at the message for another second. Have I made up my mind? No, no, I haven't. It still feels weird to refer to the upcoming event as Dad's wedding. He is my father. He was married to my mother. How can he be getting married again?
That's when the doorbell rings. Baron. It has to be him, right? I replace the phone on the bedstand, rush to the door, and open it. A stranger stands there. He's tall, and broad, his hair shaved close to his scalp. His features are hard, his gaze intense. A sense of danger clings to his shoulders. He should seem threatening, but strangely, he's not.
"Ava Erikson?"
I nod.
"I'm Archer, a friend and associate of Baron's." He tilts his head.
"Associate?" I blink. "What kind of associate?"
"We run a security business together."
Ah! That would explain why Baron seemed so nonchalant with the surveillance duties he had taken on. There's so much I don’t about him, though. Not that I've had a chance to ask him about himself either. Every time we've been together, it seems like we’ve spent time arguing... Not to mention that crazy chemistry between us, which complicated everything. Hell, if I won't take every new piece of information I can get about him. Maybe it will help me understand him better?
"I am here to oversee a delivery." Archer prompts me.
"A delivery?" I frown, "I didn't order anything."
"It's definitely for you." The man's lips kick up in a smile that's not warm but not threatening either.
He moves aside to reveal two men hauling in a table between them.
"It's a table?" I blink.
"A dining table." He nods, "I was told it needed to be put in the kitchen."
"Kitchen?" I know I am gaping, but honestly, this is not what I expected first thing in the morning, and before I've even had my coffee.
"May I?" He gestures to the space behind me.
I move aside, watching as he directs the men to carry the dining table into the living room. They place it there, disappearing inside. I hear the sounds of them moving around, cleaning up the broken pieces of table and dishes. A few minutes later they re-appear, carrying the remnants of my stuff out to their truck, then the new table into the kitchen. They return to the truck for chairs and a large box—on the side of which is printed:Wedgewood.What the—? That's the name of an extremely upscale dinnerware brand, and trust me when I say that it's expensive. So, he's replacing all the crockery, my cheap-ass supermarket-bought crockery that he’d broken when he swept it off the table...because he was in a hurry to make love to me. My cheeks heat. I fold my arms around my waist, look on as a few minutes later, they wish me a good day and leave.
