Nothing. Silence. I wait, and I wait, and a few seconds later there’s the sound of him moving. Towards me, not the door. I brace myself, desperately needing him to go, needing to fathom what the hell is happening, and to be more like myself again.
‘I had a good time too.’ He cups my cheek—he does that often. When I don’t say anything and barely look at him, I feel the whisper of his sigh against my cheek. ‘Goodnight, Avery.’
* * *
‘I have to be in LA anyway. It’s no drama to come to San Francisco after.’ Theo’s voice thunders down the line. I grip the phone, staring out of my window, a frown on my face that’s been there for the two days since I left Avery’s.
I haven’t seen her since. I texted twice and got brusque replies. That, coupled with the way she dismissed me after Disneyland, has left me in a shit of a mood. And now this?
Despite my uncertainties with Avery—and my annoyance with her too—Theo’s suggestion sends a sharp spear of panic through me. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘Come on, man. We’re dying to meet her. What the hell is she like?’
My laugh is involuntary. ‘How long have you got?’
Silence greets this. I drag a hand through my hair wearily and search for a sanitised way to describe Avery.
‘She’s...fierce.’
‘Fierce?’ Theo digests this, then there’s the scuffling of something. His hand over his phone. ‘He says she’s fierce.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’ I hear Holden’s voice and, despite my mood, smile.
‘It means she’s intelligent and confident and self-assured and basically a girl version of you guys.’ And as I say it I realise how true it is, right down to her fucked-up attitude to relationships. Funny, I always presumed that was a hangover from their father’s influence but maybe it’s just genetics. Maybe they’re all biologically pre-programmed to have an element of fuckery when it comes to love.
Love? Jesus. I drop my head forward, pressing it to the glass, concentrating on my breathing for a second.
‘Great. Then she’ll see the sense in meeting us.’
‘Hang on.’ That pulls me out of the web of my thoughts. ‘Just don’t do anything yet. She still needs time.’
‘Time? What the hell, man? What’s time going to do?’
‘You’ve had longer than she has to get used to this.’
‘Not by much.’
I consider that. ‘No, but you knew what Ryan was like,’ I add. ‘This is more out of the blue for her. A family—a father—wasn’t even on her radar. She gave up on that a long time ago.’
My chest feels a little like it’s being weighted with cement. I imagine Avery growing up, as a teenager, after her mother died, and I wish I could wipe away that pain, I wish I could help her past it.
‘You’re going to need to do this slowly,’ I say after a moment. ‘Don’t all show up here en masse and expect her to welcome you with open arms. Just one of you should come first. God, I don’t know.’ I shake my head, imagining that, and all I can sense is how ambushed Avery will feel. ‘Leave it with me a bit longer, okay? I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Thanks, man. Just...tell her we’re here. Tell her we’re family.’
I close my eyes, a sense of something constricting my abdomen. They are family. Theo, Jagger, Holden and Avery. I’m not. ‘Yeah, I will.’
I disconnect the call and stare out at nothing in particular, wondering at the mess I’ve managed to get myself into—and how the hell I’m going to get out of it.
One thing’s for sure—Avery is in way over her head. The panic in her eyes the other night was unmistakable. She couldn’t have got rid of me any faster if she’d tried. Whatever boundaries she insists on keeping between us aren’t going anywhere—at least, not quickly.
And who am I to expect her to give up the habits of a lifetime for me? There are so many reasons I need to let this go. Her relationship to the Harts, my job in Europe, her own hang-ups about relationships—we might have a hell of a good time together when she lets down her guard but that’s rare and I can’t see Avery changing any time soon.
I have to let all of this go and focus on the reason I came here—this is for the Harts.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FOUR DAYS AFTER I last saw Barrett and I realise why I can’t stop thinking about him. The answer has been in front of me all along and I’ve been ignoring it, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge a key part of my personality.