One more pour. One more swallow.
“One week, babydoll.” And then it’s silent.
It takes me a second to realize he’s hung up and even longer for me to finally pull the phone away from my ear. When I do, I notice I’m shaking.
I’m shocked and terrified. I know that. I feel that in my bones. But unlike that night in his office, I feel this anger rising inside me.
I’ve met aggressive men before, ones who don’t know how to take no for an answer, but none have treated me the way Brian has. Like I’m an object he has the right to take possession of.
I’ve seen egotistical men in the courtroom—defended their wives in custody battles—and even then, I still haven’t heard one of them speak to their ex-wives the way Brian just spoke to me. Like I’m less than the dirt on the sole of his shoe.
The anger in me grows, overshadowing the fear and shock—and the shame I hate to admit exists. I’ve never let a man have this kind of power over me, and there is no way in hell I’m going to let this asshole change that. I won’t let his repulsive actions alter how I live my life. I won’t let what happened in his office make me feel any differently about myself and the decisions I’ve made up to this point.
I’ve let him bring me down for the last five weeks, and I’m not having it anymore.
I stand from the couch, the blanket on my lap falling to the floor without notice, and look around the living room. I want to take my life back into my hands starting now.
Looking at the clock on the mantel, I see it’s just after eight in the evening.
What do I want to do? How can I take back my power? What’s something I've wanted to do since getting to Ashford Falls that I’ve talked myself out of?
And then it hits me: I wanted to say yes to that date with Gage, but I held back because I feared Brian was right—that I was just a nice piece of ass, good for a quick lay and nothing else, nothing meaningful.
I move to the front door, stepping out onto the porch, trying to decide where I’m most likely to find Gage at this time of night. It’s Saturday evening. For all I know, he’s on a date with someone else.
I don’t think he’s the kind of man to pursue multiple women simultaneously. He may not be one for committed relationships, but I don’t see him sleeping with multiple women. But that also doesn’t mean he’s waiting around for me. He may ask me out whenever we see each other, but what’s to say he didn’t take the last rejection to heart?
I walk down the porch stairs to the sidewalk, looking up and down the street. Gage said Declan’s house was only a few houses down from his. If he’s home, maybe I’ll see his Jeep in his driveway.
This might be the most spontaneous thing I’ve done in years, but the further from Declan’s house I get, the more right it feels. I need to find Gage. I can’t wait until the next time I randomly run into him around town.
I turn right and head up the street, away from town. I don’t know for sure but I think Gage’s house is this way. I’ve never seen him turn around after he’s dropped me off. He’s always just continued up the street.
I only walk a few minutes before I see his Jeep parked in the driveway of a house across the street. Without paying attention, I cross and march up to his front door, knocking without hesitation. As I wait for him to answer the door what I’m doing starts to sink in.
Maybe this wasn’t the most brilliant idea. I left my phone at Declan’s. I didn’t lock up the house behind me. And just as the door opens, I realize I’m not wearing shoes.
“Ava?” Gage opens the door, confusion clear on his face. His gaze travels down my body, quickly catching on to the thing I just noticed. “Ava, where are your shoes?” He grabs my arm, pulling me inside and out of the chilly fall air. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He closes the door behind me and places both his hands on my arms, his gaze moving all over my body as if he’s looking for injuries.
When his gaze comes back up to mine, I don’t think. I just move. I reach forward, gripping the front of his shirt in both my hands, moving to the tips of my toes and press my lips against his. I know I’ve surprised Gage, but to his credit, it only takes him a moment to respond. His grip on my arms tightening. His lips pressing against mine with the same intensity.
There’s an urgency to this kiss, a need that’s difficult to ignore. I knew the chemistry between us was there long before now. I felt it that first day in the courthouse but ignored it like it was my job.
Casual relationships and one-night stands aren’t new to me. They’re not something I do often, but I’ve enjoyed a fling once or twice. The only rule I’ve set for myself is to never explore something sexual with someone I might encounter on a regular basis. Starting something with someone you’ll see outside the bedroom is just asking for trouble.
But maybe one night with Gage is fine. We can scratch this itch, acknowledge the chemistry, and move on like nothing happened.
Like a bucket of ice is thrown on him, Gage’s entire body goes tight. His lips stop responding to mine, and he pulls back, my arms still held in his hands.
“Ava, what are you doing?” He’s not mad; I can see that clear as day in his eyes. It’s concern that laces his voice—that’s etched into every inch of his face.
“Make me forget.” I know I’m begging, but I need this. In my soul, I know I need this. I need Gage’s goodness, his empathy, his understanding.
I know Gage will take care of me.
His eyes bounce between mine, studying me, looking for the truth. “Ava.”
I stop him before he can say anything else, my grip on his shirt tightening even more. “This is me asking for that strength you offered. I can’t do it anymore and I need help.” I press my body against his, not an inch of space between us. “Make me forget,” I whisper.
