Page 138 of Off Camera
“I should get going,” he says. “Emmy girl just landed from her road trip, and I haven’t seen her in a week. I miss the fuck out of her.”
“I’m heading out too. Mae and June are on their way back from a shopping trip.” Dallas stands and pulls his hoodie over his head. “I can’t wait to see the damage they did on my credit card.”
“I’ll sit on the couch and eat dinner by myself.” I laugh and move the video game controllers under the television. “Thanks for hanging out with me. I appreciate when I get to see you guys.”
“Aw, shit, Plant Daddy.” Maverick tackles me in a hug and we fall to the floor. “I’ve only got a couple seasons left in me, then you can have me whenever you want.”
“Christ.” I groan, rubbing my arm where he ran into me. “Stop trying to proposition me, Miller.”
“Enough with the dogpile, fuckers.” Dallas helps us up and pats my shoulder. “I know it might be hard to be on the sidelines, Reid, but your person is out there. She’s waiting for you.”
My phone chimes in my pocket, and I pull it out, finding Avery’s name on the screen. I smile at the three notifications from her, the ones rolling in from social media and the text messages waiting for me.
She must have finished work and is catching up. I like this time of day when she has different conversations with me across a handful of different platforms.
“What?” I ask, looking up at them. “Sorry. Avery texted me.”
“Nothing.” Dallas grins and shakes his head. “Forget I said anything. Enjoy your night, man.”
“Yeah.” I rub a hand across my jaw, grinning at the fresh wave of comments and likes she’s spamming me with. “You guys too.”
Avery
Are you busy tonight?
Me
I’m free.
Want to come over?
Avery
Yes, please.
I’ve missed you.
I haven’t seen you since Christmas Eve.
Me
Come over and I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you too.
Avery
There’s an offer I can’t refuse.
“I brought pizza,” Avery calls out from the foyer of my apartment an hour later. “I hope that’s okay.”
I jog down the hall and slide across the wood floor. She’s pulling off her coat and beanie, the knee-high boots and the scarf around her neck. I take the box from her, the cardboard warm in my hands, and I smile.
“I was going to ask if you wanted food. I haven’t eaten yet, and I’m starving.”
“How was your day?” she asks, leading the way to the kitchen like she lives here too.
I think I’d like it if she did.
I think I’d be happy to welcome her home every night.
