“Can you just drop me off there first? I’ll meet you at your apartment in a couple of hours.”
I don’t want to drop her off. She might change her mind. “Yeah,” I say. “Sure.” I walk around to the back and open the door for her. I think she can tell that I don’t want her to go home, but I’m trying to hide my disappointment. When I get into the cab I grab her hand and close the door. She tells the cab driver her address.
I’m looking out the window when I feel her squeeze my hand. “Owen?”
I face her and her smile is so sweet, it makes my jaw ache.
“I just really want to shower and grab some clothes before I come over. But I promise I’m still coming over, okay?” Her expression is reassuring.
I nod, still not sure that I believe her. This may be her way of getting back at me for standing her up. She can still see the hesitation in my eyes, so she laughs.
“Owen Mason Gentry,” she says, pushing the tent out of her lap and onto the seat next to her. She slides onto my lap and I grab her waist, not at all sure where she’s going with this, but not really concerned enough to stop it. She looks me in the eyes while holding on to both sides of my face. “You better stop pouting. And doubting.”
I grin. “That rhymed.”
She laughs loudly, and have I mentioned I love her? No, I haven’t. Because that would be crazy. And impossible.
“I’m the queen of rhyming,” she says with a grin. “It’s all about the timing.” Her hands drop to my chest and she looks up at the roof of the car for a second, contemplating her next line before dropping her gaze to mine again. “So trust me, Owen. My desire for you is growin’.”
She’s trying to be seductive, and it’s working, but she also can’t stop laughing at herself, which is even better.
The cab comes to a stop in front of her apartment. She starts to reach for the tent, but I grab her face and pull her back to me, moving my lips to her ear. “So go take your shower. Come back over in an hour. Then you, Auburn Mason Reed, I will completely devour.”
When I pull back and look at her, her smile is gone. She swallows dramatically and her reaction to my words makes me grin. I push open the back door and she breaks out of her trance.
“You’re such a one-upper, Owen.” She leans across the seat and reaches for her tent. After she exits the cab, I smile at her and she smiles at me, but neither of us tells the other good-bye. I’m only saying good-bye to her once, and that won’t be until Monday morning.
I’m about to ring her doorbell. I know it’s only been an hour and she hasn’t even had time to make it back to my studio, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her walking all that way by herself. I hate that she makes that walk twice a day when she goes to work.
I don’t want to rush her, though, and I don’t want it to feel like I’m showing up because I doubt her. Maybe I should sit on the stairs and wait for her to open the door. That way, it’ll look like I got here just as she was leaving. And also, if she never opens her door, then I’ll know in a couple hours that she changed her mind. If that happens, I can just leave and she won’t even know I was here in the first place.
But what if she already left, and I just missed her because she took a cab? She could be at my place, and now I’ve made the idiotic decision to show up at her place. Shit.
“Do you want to come inside?”
I quickly turn, and Emory is standing in the doorway, staring at me. She’s holding her purse in one hand and her keys in the other.
“Is Auburn still here?”
Emory nods and holds the door open wider. “She’s in her room. She just got out of the shower.”
I hesitate, not feeling comfortable entering her apartment without her knowing. Emory can see the hesitation on my face, so she leans back into the apartment. “Auburn! That guy you should totally sleep with is here! Not the cop, the other one!”
The cop.
Emory faces me again and nods her head like she’s saying you’re welcome. I would say I like her, but every time she speaks, she’s bringing up the “other” guy. I wonder if he’s the one who likes the color blue.
I hear Auburn groan from inside the apartment. “I swear to God, Emory. You need to take a class on social skills.” She appears in the doorway and Emory ducks out, heading for the exit. Her hair is damp, and she’s changed clothes. She’s still in jeans and a simple top, but they’re different from the ones she had on earlier. I like that she’s so casual. She’s eyeing me up and down. “It hasn’t even been an hour, Mr. Impatient.”
She doesn’t seem annoyed, which is good. She motions for me to come inside, so I follow her into the apartment. “I was going to wait outside,” I say.
She walks into her bedroom and walks back out with a backpack. She tosses it on the bar and turns and looks at me expectantly.
“I was bored,” I say. “I thought I’d walk with you to my studio.”
Her lips curl up into a grin. “You’re way too into me, Owen. Monday won’t be good for you.”
She says this like she’s kidding, but she has no idea how right she is.
“Oh!” She turns toward the living room and retrieves the tent from the couch. “Help me set up the tent before we go.” She walks toward her bedroom with the tent in her hands. “It’s tiny, it won’t take long.”
I shake my head, completely confused as to why she wants to set up a tent in her bedroom. But she doesn’t seem bothered by it, so I don’t question her. Because what girl doesn’t deserve a tent in her bedroom?