“Hadley was worried it would collapse without her dad’s backing. Dylan and Avery were adamant she could do it.”
“Tell me more about Morrison Rebuilds.” I was so used to being needed for my money, my name, the fact that these people didn’t, was glaringly obvious. I liked it. Maybe I’d have some friends here after all.
Cade and I talked about his nonprofit and his contracting business. I told him about my experience with backing various charities. After Damon and Lorelai’s betrayal, it would be a bad idea to get financially involved with either nonprofit, but I could offer advice.
“Hey, what’s going on?” A blond man stepped next to Cade.
“You just getting here?” Cade asked him.
“Yeah, stayed late on the job.” The man’s eyes shifted to me.
“Griffin, this is my brother Nolan. Nolan, this is Griffin Locke.”
I held out my hand to him. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nolan’s my partner at Morrison Rebuilds.”
Before I could respond, Hadley slid between me and Cade. “Oh good. You met.”
Cade put his hand on her lower back. “We have to stick together at these events. I’m happy to have someone to talk to.”
“Hey.” Avery stood facing us, her eyes uncertain.
“Did you want something to drink?” I moved closer to her, wanting to remind her we were here together.
Hadley twirled to face the bar, her finger up in the air to call the bartender. “We need to celebrate. One glass of champagne before I announce the winners of the silent auction.”
Avery stood a foot away from me, not claiming me as her date. I should have been disappointed, I was so used to women hanging on my arm, sidling up to me, whether they were officially my date or not. Avery was different. I had to pursue her, convince her to take a shot with me. Each time we talked either in her conference room or over the phone, she impressed me with her kind words and concern for Declan and me. She gave me little bits of herself but held back. Everything she revealed made me want to know more.
I kept my eyes on Avery while Hadley asked for two glasses of champagne, handing one to Avery.
Dylan approached. “Where’s mine?”
“One more,” Hadley asked the bartender. When all three were holding glasses, Hadley lifted hers. “Thank you for supporting me, for going out of your comfort zones to make tonight happen. To Kids Speak.”
“To Arrington, Gannon & Winters,” Dylan said.
The women clinked glasses, taking long sips.
My eyes lowered to Avery’s pink lips, the bubbles clinging to hers. I wanted to lick her lips, tasting the sweet drink. Our eyes met. I wanted to place my hands on her hips pulling her into my body. I lifted my head, scanning the room for the string quartet I’d seen earlier. The dance floor now had several couples moving in time to the music.
“Would you like to dance?” I asked her, the only way I could think to get my hands on her.
Dylan nudged her toward me.
“Sure.” Avery’s eyes darted from Dylan to me before she took a small step closer to me.
I placed my hand on her back, guiding her.
We stopped on the dance floor, she turned to face me, her expression uncertain. “We don’t have to dance. You know, if you were asking to be polite.”
I tilted my head a little surprised she was giving me an out. Was it low self-esteem or another effort to push me away? “Why would I ask you to dance to be polite?”
“Isn’t it expected that your date dance with you?” Avery looked perplexed, her brow furrowed, her nose adorably wrinkled.
I chuckled. This woman, sexy, intriguing, and completely clueless. I pulled her into my body, her hand in mine, the other on her hip. I didn’t feel any panties under my fingers which made me think she was commando under her dress. I loved having her close, but I shifted so there was some space between us so she wouldn’t feel how much I liked it.
I lowered my head until my mouth was by her ear. “Have you not dated a lot or do I make you nervous?”
She shivered as my words coasted over her ear. I wanted to dip my head and place a kiss on her bare shoulder, but I resisted.
“It’s not you. Situations like these make me nervous in general. I told you that.” Her head tilted up, raw honesty in her eyes.
I appreciated she didn’t try and deflect. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, wanting to see if it was as silky as it looked. “You did but I didn’t believe you.”
“Well, it’s true. I’m an awkward date.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Nervous maybe, but not awkward. “Why do you think that?”
She rolled her eyes before resting her gaze on my shirt. “I was alone a lot as a kid. I didn’t have a lot of friends. I’ve always felt clueless in social situations, like people are judging me.”
“You didn’t go to homecoming, prom, play sports?” She was so beautiful, every admission tugged at me, making me want to hear more. I couldn’t imagine another guy hadn’t seen the same thing I did even in high school when most boys are clueless.
She chuckled without humor, shaking her head. “No. Definitely not.”
“Why?” I held my breath, hoping she’d let me in, tell me what held her back, made her erect walls.
“I was an awkward, shy teenager, too afraid to go out for a sport. Worried everyone would make fun of me for trying. I wasn’t exactly coordinated.”
“Did someone make fun of you?” This conversation reminded me of when we were talking about Julian being bullied. She’d acted like she knew what I was talking about. I couldn’t imagine anyone hassling her, but the implication raised every one of my protective instincts.
She cleared her throat. “I asked you here as a thank you for your help. You’re my client. We can’t date.”
My eyes narrowed on her. “There you go again.”
“What are you talking about?” Her eyes sparked with irritation.
“You change the subject whenever things get personal.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “I do not. I told you how I was alone as a kid. My parents worked a lot.”
That was one detail she’d given me. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t the reason she was the way she was. It wasn’t like she was awkward. Maybe nervous or anxious, but not truly awkward. She wasn’t saying stupid things or embarrassing herself. “I don’t think it’s as bad as you think.”
She smiled sadly. “It doesn’t matter. After tonight I’ll go back to my apartment, read the rest of my book.”
For the first time all night, her shoulders relaxed, her eyes softened, her lips tugged into a smile.
“You like to read?” I cataloged every morsel she gave me, saving it for later. Eventually I’d have enough to paint a picture of her—Avery’s reality—the one she worked so hard to hide.
“I do. I love living vicariously through characters. I can do things, go places, I couldn’t otherwise.”
I loved reading before bed too. It was something Lorelai hadn’t appreciated. She preferred to watch TV or talk. She wanted my attention. One more reason we weren’t compatible in the end.
“Can you really not do things, or do you think you can’t do things?” I was trying to get to the truth, but it felt like I was talking in circles. It must be how an attorney felt when they were questioning a witness on the stand.