Nothing. No texts. No more calls.
Well, he guessed she might be annoyed. But then, he hadn’t promised her anything.
Right . . . so why is there a tight knot in your gut?
Gray:I’m coming over.
Nothing.He tapped his phone. Too abrupt?
Fuck it. He didn’t know how to do any of this. He didn’t know how to take care of her emotions. Emotions were difficult. Especially when it came to women.
Maybe this would be better in person. He knew that she wouldn’t be able to ignore him if he was on the other side of the door.
An hour later, he ended up outside her apartment building. He’d stopped to buy her flowers. He had no idea what he was doing. What did he say?
Hey, Maeve, want to make this more than mind-blowing sex?
Hmm. That didn’t seem right.
Want to be my girlfriend?
That just wasn’t something he’d say.
Maeve, you’re mine. I’m yours. Now, shut up and kiss me.
Yep, that was definitely something he’d say.
It was after seven, so the door was locked. He pressed the buzzer for her apartment. Nothing. He sighed. Buzzed again. Five minutes later, the door opened and a guy with greasy hair and dirty clothes stepped out.
He didn’t even acknowledge Gray, just stepped outside. Gray grabbed the door before it could shut and stepped inside.
The security for this place was shit. He needed to move her out of here and somewhere safer.
Like back to your place.
But he didn’t really have a place, did he? Although Markovich’s compound was generally pretty safe, he wasn’t sure it felt safe enough at the moment for his girl.
Fuck. This place definitely wasn’t safe enough or good enough for her.
Getting to her door, he knocked. There was no sound. Fuck. She wasn’t here. At least she wasn’t ignoring him, he guessed.
He got out his phone and leaned back against the wall. He felt stupid standing here with flowers. For the first time in a long time, he felt awkward.
Unsure.
He hated feeling that way.
Where was she?
Gray:Where are you? I’m at your place.
Nothing.Fuck. Was she mad at him? Well, she’d just have to get over that, wouldn’t she? Because he wasn’t going anywhere until she talked to him. He could be far more stubborn than her.
Ten minutes passed and he was about to start knocking on doors when the door across from her room opened.
An older woman peered out at him. “Who’re you?”
“Friend of Maeve’s,” he replied shortly.