27. Daire

TWENTY-SEVEN

daire

I LOOKED LIKE shit.

There were dark shadows under my eyes from not having slept well all week, and my hair wasn’t cooperating as I tried to smooth down a cowlick.

It was bullshit I even had to go spend my Friday night at Astor, but the dean had made it a requirement. Some new band was putting on a special performance, blah blah blah, it would be televised, blah blah, who gave a shit.

Giving up on my hair, I grabbed a black shirt from my closet and buttoned it up to my chest, leaving me a little room to breathe. The silver chain of the necklace I always wore glinted under the bathroom lights as I gave myself a once-over.

Still a shit-tastic view.

Oh, who cares. I’m just gonna lurk in a corner anyway.

I flicked off the light, grabbed my wallet and my phone, and headed out to the kitchen to fill up a flask. There was no way I’d get through one of these things sober, and Astor wouldn’t be supplying the goods.

Opening a cabinet, I looked over my options and grabbed a thin leather flask that would fit easily in my pocket.

“Grab me one too.”

Gavin’s voice surprised the shit out of me, considering I hadn’t heard him speak in days. We’d both gone into full avoidance mode again, which seemed to be our new normal.

I pulled another one down from the cabinet, setting them both on the kitchen island before grabbing a bottle of tequila off the bar. I hesitated on another bottle, and before I picked it up I said, “Gin?”

“Yup.”

Yet another preference of Gavin’s I couldn’t help but know. I wished I wasn’t so damn tuned in to what he liked or didn’t like. It was all a bunch of useless knowledge that served no purpose whatsoever, besides driving me crazy.

I made the mistake of looking up when I slid the bottle of gin and the flask his way, and I swear my heart stopped for a beat. Gavin looked…pretty fucking incredible. Not that that was unusual, but he usually kept to blues and greys and neutrals. Tonight he’d busted out a vivid red jacket that, combined with his platinum hair, was stunning. There was no other word for it.

Gavin started to pour the gin into the flask but looked up when he felt me staring. “What?”

So defensive. I couldn’t blame him. I’d been an asshole, trying to get us over this awkward in between.

Gavin brushed the back of his hand over his jaw. “Is there something on my face?”

I shook my head, unable to stop from looking at the hot picture he made. But I couldn’t tell him that. He’d read into it, and that would only set us back a few steps.

With a nonchalance I didn’t feel, I said, “Red’s good,” and moved back to my side of the island to unscrew my poison.

He didn’t respond, but I felt him watching me as I filled my own flask and capped it tight. I’d be lying if I said the sexual tension between us had dissipated even with our being on shit terms. If anything, it was stronger now, so tangible I could cut it with a knife.

“Typical,” he muttered as he poured the liquor into his flask, and despite everything inside of me telling me to walk away, I did something I hadn’t done lately—I engaged.

“What did you say?”

Gavin looked up, as shocked as I was that I’d said shit. But hey, it looked I was stepping out of my comfort zone lately, didn’t it?

“Huh?”

“I asked what you said.”

Gavin screwed his nose up as he finished filling his flask and then screwed the cap on the gin bottle. “Why? It’s not like you care.”

“You’re right, but stop being passive-aggressive. You want to call me out on my shit, then call me out.”

“Okay.” Gavin planted his hands on the counter and glared at me. “I said typical. Typical, as in you throw out these little crumbs, these…moments of affection like treats for a well-trained animal. And then, like the dumbass I am, I immediately sit up at attention like, oh my God, he’s not the horrible asshat who stomped all over me last week. He really does care.” Gavin swiped up his flask, walking around the counter. “What kind of fucking idiot am I?”

He went to storm past me, but before he got even two steps away, I reached out and grabbed hold of his arm.

Gavin whirled around on me so fast that I immediately shifted back and dodged left, not wanting to feel the sting of his hand against my face again, even though I wouldn’t have blamed him.

“I told you I was no good for you,” I said, like that made every shitty thing I’d done this week better. “How long are you going to punish me for being right?”

“Punish you? I’m not punishing you.” He glanced down at the hand on my arm. “I’m forgetting you. Or at least trying to. Isn’t that what you wanted? No one to get close to you? No one to care about you? Well, wish granted. I’m moving on, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop throwing your scraps under the table for me.”

He yanked his arm out of my hold and marched off down the hall to his side of the condo. I stared after him, my breathing difficult, as though I’d just taken a direct hit to the solar plexus.

I should just let it go. Let him go. Let him forget me, or whatever the fuck he was trying to do. That was what I wanted—what needed to happen. But instead, I found myself storming after him, not stopping until I was somewhere I’d never been—his bedroom.

“What do you mean you’re forgetting me?”

Gavin whirled around, a stunned expression stamped across his face. “Get out of my room.”

“No.”

“Daire. Get out.”

“No. You said something out there, and I want to know what you mean.” Forget me? How did he plan to do that? “Are you moving out?”

“What?” Gavin’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t say⁠—”

“You said you were trying to forget me.” And every time I repeated it, my heart pounded a little faster. “What did you mean?”

Gavin scooped up his phone from the bed and shoved it into his pocket, then he stormed around the end of it until he was standing directly in front of me.

“I meant that I’m bringing a date tonight. That I’m forgetting that you and I… That we… It’s none of your business. Now get out of my way.”

“You’re bringing a date?” The words were out of my mouth before I could bite them back, and Gavin shook his head.

“I’m not doing this. Move.”

“Are you bringing a date?”

“Daire.” Gavin balled his hands at his sides, vibrating with fury. “Move.”

Seeing I wasn’t getting anywhere, I reluctantly moved out of his way. But as he left his room, I followed.

“Who is it?”

“Oh my God.” Gavin grabbed his key card and wallet off the entry table, and I kept pace with him, determined to find out who his second choice was for tonight.

What? No. I’d never been a fucking choice, but I sure as hell wanted to know who he’d called up to⁠—

“It’s Trevor, okay?” Gavin swiped his key card.

Trevor the Tool? He had to be joking.

“The same guy who cares more about his car than you?” I snorted. “Yeah, good choice.”

“He’s better than you.” The elevator door swished open, and he stepped inside, gluing himself to one side of the car. “At least he called me the next day to apologize for being a self-centered dick. You just went out of your way to prove you were one.”

I had nothing to say to that. He was right. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“He’s not? Fine. Then you date me.”

I gripped the back of my neck in frustration. “I’m not good enough for you either.”

Gavin stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head. “Then you know what, Daire? You don’t get a say. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t push me away and want nothing to do with me but then say no one else can be with me either. That’s not fair.”

“Like I give a shit what’s fair. You think I’m gonna sit back and watch you get taken advantage of? Again?”

“Jesus.” Gavin sighed, a defeated expression on his face. “Can we not do this? It’s exhausting.”

As the elevator doors opened, he stepped out with a heaviness to his shoulders, like he was weighted down.

I tried to bite my tongue, but it seemed like no matter what I said, it wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear.

“What do you suggest?” I found myself saying.

Gavin spun around to face me. “A truce. We both agree to move on and stop hating each other.”

Hate? That wasn’t what I felt for Gavin, but it was better than the alternative.

“I can’t promise I won’t say anything if your date goes all superdouche.”

“Can you maybe try? Can you manage that? For me?”

The pleading in Gavin’s eyes caught me like a snare, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself from nodding. Not exactly a full truce, but it was enough of an agreement that Gavin took his first full breath since he’d walked out of his room.

“Thank you,” he said, turning on his heel and walking out of the Towers to our ride, and I tried not to notice the way his lean body called to me. The way it had felt curled under mine.

I shook my head and reached for my flask in an effort to erase the memory that was still haunting me, but when I came up empty, I cursed.

I’d left the motherfucking thing upstairs.