Trust in Me(84)

            The look of flight crossed her face, but she remained in front of me. “I just wanted to say thank you for helping Brit out when I was sick.”

            Shifting my gaze to the diner all the way down the hill and across the street, I drew in air. “It’s not a big deal.”

            “It was to me. So, thank you.”

            I nodded and dared a glance at her. It was a mistake. The wind had blown a strand of shimmery hair across her cheek and it was hard not to catch it and sneak it back behind her ear. “You’re welcome.”

            “Well . . .” Her brows knitted together.

            “I’ve got to go,” I said again, turning to the side entrance. “I’ll see you around.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            Slowly, I turned around. Those two words were like being punched in the balls, because what exactly was she sorry for? I shook my head. “Me too.”

            I was probably more sorry than she was.

            “I’m beginning to think Ollie is out in the parking lot drinking our beer,” Jase said, leaning against the wall.

            Beside me, Steph nodded in agreement. “Well, whoever thought it was a good idea to send him to Sheetz is the one at fault.”

            She had a point, but we could’ve prepared better for fight night. Our place was packed like it always was for these events.

            Steph leaned into my side, pressing her breasts against my arm, and I suspected she wasn’t wearing a bra. Wasn’t she supposed to have come with Jase? Sliding my cap around backward, I inched forward and glanced over at him.

            He shrugged one shoulder and then turned to Henry as one of the preliminary fights picked up. The front door opened, letting in a burst of cold air just as the Canadian on the screen dished out a brutal strike down. The room was a mix of cheers and boos.

            “Look who I found!” Ollie shouted.

            I ignored him as the two fighters scrambled across the ring, but then Steph whispered, “You have a visitor.”

            Distracted, I glanced over to my left and almost did a double take. My brows shot up as my eyes locked with warm, brown ones.

            Avery stood beside Ollie, clenching a bottle of beer to her chest. Her hair was pulled up and she was all pink cheeks and wide eyes.

            She had never been in my apartment before. Never. And I couldn’t believe she was here now and I had no idea why, but seeing her . . . well, it was like seeing the sun after days of rain.

            I smiled slightly. “Hey.”

            “Hey.” The hue of her cheeks deepened.

            For several moments I was unable to look away from her and I wasn’t the only one. Several of the other guys, including Henry, were eyeballing her in a way all guys did when fresh meat was in the building.

            I willed my gaze to the TV, but I was aware of Ollie guiding her to the empty recliner. My eyes were on the screen, but my entire body and my thoughts were to the right of me. A thousand questions rolled through my head. Seeing her in my apartment was the last thing I had expected. I was caught completely off guard.

            “You want a beer, babe?” Steph asked, curling a hand around my upper arm.

            I shook my head, focused on Henry. The fucker had slowly made his way over to where Avery sat. Nothing was wrong with the dude. I kept telling myself that, but when he said something about her socks, I started picturing him as the next serial killer.

            Avery was drinking, much to my surprise, and I mean really drinking. Tequila shots and at least two beers for someone who didn’t drink was one hell of a way to kick off being a lush.