Three months earlier…
AGITATED BEYOND REPROACH, I USE the toe of my shoe to fully open the already cracked door. The force of the swing causes the knob to hit the opposite wall. Averie jumps in place at the sound of my unwelcomed entry.
The light from the party spills into the room, casting a shadow on her back as she stands in front of a large bay window, looking out into the starry night.
She fucking started this. And one way or another, it’s time she finishes it.
Not five minutes ago, I had her backed into a dark corner of the crowded party room. Friends and family were busy toasting in celebration to Amelia and Brayden’s engagement. I had one hand wrapped around back of Averie’s neck. The other was slowly gliding across her hip.
Her eyes demanded my attention; her body ached to have all of it. She was eager, welcoming of my touch.
Then, as Averie does, she did as she’s always done before. She fucking ran.
Always fucking running.
From her family, her friends…me.
This time, though, I’m in no mood to chase her. I’m in the mood to catch her.
“There you are,” I seethe, my tone formidable, giving voice to my impatience.
“Here I am,” she replies softly to the view outside.
“We’re really doing this shit again?” I question with accusation.
Averie shakes her head, and her shoulders jump with a feigned laugh.
The front of her gown is a fucking lie, deceivingly covering every inch of skin, from mid-thigh all the way to her delicate neck. Her hair is up, a few long tendrils of blonde falling around her face. Her makeup is heavy, casting away what was left of her youth.
Standing at the bar, staring at her from across the room, I decided Averie has finally and truly become her own woman.
Most of the evening, I was able to keep my thoughts clear of her. Until she turned around and gave me a glimpse of her completely bare back.
Even after seeing her wearing what she was, I did what I could to lose the images of how my hands on her would look. I ignored how soft I knew her skin to be. And how lost I’d no doubt be in the smell of it alone.
Then Darren, the fuck she brought as a date trailed his finger down her bare spine. She turned around, looked up, and gave him the smile she always had for me.
That’s when my common sense and resolve finally waned, shredding to tiny bits of pent-up frustration ensnaring its way around me.
So it wasn’t just the goddamn red, backless dress she’s wearing tonight that acted as the catalyst to my possessive thoughts. It was another man touching something that in many ways I’ve claimed as mine.
Memories of us together, one by one, bit by bit, came tumbling into view.
Slamming my eyes shut, I ball my hands to fists and order, “Come here, Averie.”
“Ever felt like you just don’t belong?” she abruptly questions. “Like, you know you have a place in the world, but the world you’re in isn’t so bad so you think, ‘why move forward?’ ‘What’s out there that’s so much better than what you already have?’”
The wounds in her words spear my chest. I know exactly what she says. However, I’ve never felt that way when I’m with her. Not once.
Fuck, but my chest burns to bring her in close.
“You scare me,” she confesses on a trailing whisper.
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re so goddamn intense.”
“I’m the same person I was when we met,” I tell her.
“You scared me then, too,” she pushes further.
“No, I didn’t,” I deny. “We both know you’re fearless.”
“I’m never that,” she chastises. “And I’m not brave. Not like you are, anyway.”
“Brave?”
Nodding to the window, she sighs heavily. “You’ve always known what you wanted.”
“I’m determined. Not brave,” I correct, knowing I’m right.
“A person can’t be determined without being brave, Jax,” she admonishes. “The two are almost one in the same.”
The summer I met Averie was a rush, like I had inhaled clean, pure air for the first time. I had stumbled on someone who understood me. Someone I could identify with. I admired her detached demeanor. Her ability to hold those she loves at arm’s length, but not hurt them in doing so.
Averie’s loved, and she loves, but never at the risk of getting herself hurt.
Fuck, but my arms ache to gather her in them until she gives up and stops struggling with how lost she is.
Clearing my throat, I call again, “Averie, come here.”
“Except for him,” she utters so low I nearly miss it.
Walking toward her, I prod, “What?”
“Except for him,” she says again. “That’s what I used to tell myself. When I felt out of place with my family. When Amelia would bring home good grades, picture perfect, sweet boys, or when Mom or Mason were disappointed in something I’d done. I’d say, ‘Except for him.’”
“Averie, none of that makes sense.”
“Except for him,” she states again. “No one in the world would understand how out of place I felt. Except for you.”
Averie’s body trembles when my lips brush her shoulder. Lightly grazing her upper arms, I guide my hands down until the tips of my fingers reach hers. She doesn’t resist as I thread them together.
“I understand,” I profess.
“I knew you would.”
Averie’s chest rises and falls to each shallow breath she struggles to take. Mine, doing the same, brushes her back. The warmth of her, the familiarity of her again so close, pushes me forward.
Wrapping my hand around her waist, I urge her to turn. When she does, her bright, shining eyes nearly destroy my determination.
My hand cups her cheek and she gives way, leaning into it for comfort. Maybe Averie thinks she’s better off without me. That being consumed by another person won’t make her stronger. Maybe she’s determined to walk this world alone, the way she always has, perpetually in motion but never really moving. Like me.
“I’m afraid of you,” she utters.
“Why?” I push.
Averie pauses before explaining, “I’m afraid of how I feel when I’m not with you.”
“You’ve never been without me.”
“If I ever lost you,” she argues.
“You’ll never lose me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I don’t know a lot,” I admit. “But I am certain nothing could tear me away from you.”
When my tongue sweeps over her bottom lip, Averie whimpers. Her mouth falls open. She responds, using the tip of her tongue to find mine.
Rather than fall prey to instinct, I beat back my impatience and let her take the lead.
Averie’s hands flatten on my chest, and my hands drop to free my hold on her. She explores, slowly but with the time and freedom to do it. Tilting her head, she quietly moans against my lips.
She tastes sweet: of wine and innocence.
She smells sweeter: of flowery perfume and honesty.
Her body is flush with mine, fevered and so fucking soft.
Averie whimpers again, thrusting her tongue to the rhythm of her moving hips. I want to grasp those hips, driving them in sync with my own. I want to force her to writhe beneath me, to have the ecstasy of her moans wreaking havoc in my ear.
Stepping into her, I push her back until she has nowhere else to go. I brace my hands against the wall, to trap her in but also to ensure I don’t touch her. Fuck, I want to. But this is hers. She’s got to decide. If she wants this, if she wants us, she has to claim this for herself.
Sensing my internal struggle, Averie grabs my wrist, bringing my hand down and placing it flat against her thigh. I inhale a badly needed breath.
She presses her fingertips to the tops of mine, inviting exploration. The hem of her dress lifts. She falters and lets go, but I don’t stop. Inch by inch, I expose more of her. Her head falls to the side, and I move to advantage.
Promising myself to take this slow, I kiss her neck, along with the skin behind her ear.
The palm of her hand covers the top of mine, all but positioning them both between her legs.
Silently, I struggle. I’ve never touched her like this. I’ve thought about it a million times before, but usually when I’m in bed with a faceless woman or alone in the shower. Or at the office when my work all comes tumbling down around me.
The scene may change. Quiet dinners. A stroll downtown. Morning talks. Midnight walks. In these places, the woman is the same. Always her.
“Baby,” I call, my thumb rimming the hem of her panties to find her wet.
To answer, her hand presses mine further.
Shoving her panties aside, I leave her pussy bared for me.
“Yes,” she utters, flattening her hands to the top of my shoulders and standing on tiptoes to balance.
Averie gasps and slams her eyes shut as I slide a finger inside.
Pulling out, then thrusting back, I rest my forehead on her shoulder and look down. The room is dark, but the moon’s light offers enough glimpse of what I’m doing.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” I hiss, adding my thumb to her clit.
Her hips start to move, up and down, side to side.
“Ride it, Averie,” I grind out, twisting my head and biting the lobe of her ear. “Don’t fucking stop,” I demand next.
She does what I tell her, lifting her head to the ceiling, grinding down again and again until the pulse inside her becomes desperate with need.
“How does this feel?” I ask, shoving her harder into the wall and positioning her mouth to mine. Grasping her hair when she doesn’t answer, my assault between her legs turns savage. “How do I feel inside you?”
“Yes, Jax. Yes!” she cries out.
The vein of her throat protrudes, tested under the strain of her impending release.
My hips flex, my cock in search of what my hands possess. I push forward with more penetration, adding another finger and thrusting the spot where I know she needs to finish.
Through my suit jacket, Averie’s fingers dig deep.
“Come for me, baby,” I urge.
“Jaxson,” Averie calls, before a louder, “Jaxson!”
“Now!” I order. “Do it.”
Averie’s body rocks violently in my arms. Her scream pierces my ears. Her soft breath fans my face as she succumbs to what I’ve made her do.
Before I’m able to relax, to revel in her submission, her body stands rigid. I know what she’s about to do. She’s going to run.
“Let me go,” she whispers.
“No.” With this answer, a part of me denies how I’ve always felt about her.
“Let me go,” she chokes.
I close up what I’ve always wanted.
“Jaxson, I need to go.”
I aim to forget what she means to me.
“If I let you go, Averie, it’s done,” I vow. “We’re done.”
“Please, Jaxson. Let me go,” she says again, this time shoving my shoulders with resolve.
Stepping back, I lick my fingers clean of the only girl I’ve ever longed to have. Averie rights herself before turning away. As I admonish any idea of us together, she’s through the door and fading from sight.
Averie Dyer, the young girl I met all those years ago, the woman I’ve grown to love since, no longer exists for me.
I meant what I told her. I’m fucking done.