Overlooked(1)(219)

We spend the next twenty minutes making fun of Nathan before Darla’s boy toy arrives and we end the call.

My mind is clear enough now that I can focus on work, and I throw myself into the endless task of editing, planning and keeping track of finances. I debate taking the unicorn video down, but it’s had over a quarter million shares already and is one of my fastest videos to ever get to that many shares. I’m making a killing on ad revenue in it, so I leave it up.

No matter how stupid I now realize it is. I have to be more disciplined. No more hurried, unplanned videos.

In the morning, I wake up early and sleepwalk to the kitchen for some coffee. The doorbell rings. Tying my housecoat belt around me, I make my way to the door on shaky legs, knowing full well it’s Knox.

I take a deep breath, open the door, and say the words I practiced over and over in my head while lying in bed earlier, “This arrangement isn’t working for me. We have to stop. The…”

Knox’s hands are on my hips, and he backs me into the house as I try to speak. His mouth covers mine, swallowing my words. His kiss is charged, and sends a jolt of electricity through me, grounding me to the floor.

He pulls his lips away, and says, “It’s not working for me either.”





Knox

“What?” Avery asks, her voice barely audible.

“The whole drive home last night, I was looking forward to seeing you. To find you in my living room, waiting for me. When you weren’t there, I knew I couldn’t ignore this any longer.”

“This?”

“Yes, this,” I say, hating saying what I’m feeling out loud. “Whatever it is that’s between us.”

Avery closes her eyes and swallows. I nudge her deeper into the house and close the front door. She hasn’t said anything yet, nothing that lets me know what she’s thinking.

Maybe I’m making too many assumptions. I drop my arms from her, and walk towards the kitchen.

“Coffee,” I say, it isn’t a question.

Avery still doesn’t say anything as she follows me into her kitchen. Since when was she ever quiet? I don’t like it.

I go through her cupboards and make two cups of coffee. Her kitchen is hideously ugly and out of date. Instead of setting them on the kitchen table, I carry them into her living room and set them on the coffee table.

On autopilot, she follows me back to the living room.

“Sit,” I say, gesturing to the couch.

Avery sits on the leather armchair.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” I ask.

“I… you surprised me. I had to tell you this morning that I can’t do our arrangement.”

“I already told you I don’t want that either.”

“I’m not sure what you want. A relationship? What about Piper?”

Piper. It’s true, I don’t know what to do about her.

“I really wish you’d sit with me on the couch.”

I let my words hang in the air. With a tense jaw, Avery moves from her chair to the couch, our shoulders grazing.

“You really want a relationship?” she asks, staring at the blank TV screen.

“Yeah, I do. I want you in my bed every morning and at my table every night.”

“Would it be a secret from Piper?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Since Piper was born, I’ve never had a relationship. A girlfriend.”

I let the word girlfriend sink in. I’ve spent my whole adult life avoiding having one. And not once have I ever been tempted to have one. But with Avery, I can’t help myself. I need this woman. In all of my life, not just my bed.

“You haven’t had a girlfriend in all these years?”

Ignoring her question, I say, “Maybe we don’t say anything. She can draw her own conclusions. Besides, we’ll let this develop as it’s going to develop.”

“You think? Piper will want answers.”

“She won’t. She’s been trying to get us together since you moved in.”

“Really?”

“Piper constantly told me how much you liked me,” I say, sliding my arm around Avery.

“Yeah. She did the same to me.”

“See? She’ll be fine. Happy, even.” I hope.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way. I really thought I had to end this today.”

“No chance, baby. I’d never let that happen.”

Avery smiles and rolls her bottom lip in her teeth. Unable to resist, I take her chin in my hand, and tilt her head to me. I brush my lips against her cheek and onto her full lips.

She kisses me back softly, before turning her head away and saying, “You really haven’t had a girlfriend in thirteen years.”

Resigned, I say, “Almost fourteen.”