Chapter 6 Avery

• AVERY
• My skin ignites the second he enters the doorway. His cologne teasing my senses, while my body vibrates from the magnetic energy swirling between us. Despite the cosmetic pull, I ignore him, focusing on the salad in front of me and Brian. The coworker who has promptly stopped talking, his terrified stare on the growly beast behind me. He is closer now, looming just behind my back, but I refuse to turn.
• Brian hasn’t made a peep, keeping his gaze anywhere else but me. I pretend not to notice, enjoying the annoyance wrapping around Drake. My actions pushing him to break, to speak first because I refuse to be the one who does.
• “Avery,” his voice slides over my skin and down my spine, my knees already weak. What is it about him that makes me a jumbled mess. “Who is your friend?”
• I slow, finishing my bite, I swipe my tongue over my teeth, cleaning my mouth of debris before answering. Swiveling, I face him with my brightest smile, enjoying the way his jaw clenches making the vein pop in his neck. His onyx gaze is scorching hot, his arms crossed angrily, and yet I don’t fear him.
• “Oh, hello Mr. Winters,” I say cheerfully, purposefully goading him. What the hell is wrong with me? “This is Brian. He’s a recent hire.”
• “Oh, nice,” he nods in Brian’s direction, before I am sucked back into an onyx abyss. My breath stills with each second we are like this, stuck in a battle of wills. “Avery, why are you in here?”
• “Do you not allow your employees lunch?” I ask innocently, but mischief swishes around, infuriating Drake to no end. The glint in his pupils warns me to stop while I’m ahead, but I cannot, when annoying him holds so much fascination.
• “I need you at your desk in case anyone calls.” He snaps, a brow raised in silent challenge, one I shouldn’t welcome, but I do.
• “I’ve had them forwarded to my cell,” I volley back, relishing this cat-and-mouse banter we are in. He doesn’t falter, but his fury skyrockets as he attempts to control his displeasure. I should shut up, stop talking, but it’s impulsive.
• “What if someone emails?” He counters, stepping closer, unable to admit defeat.
• “It is the twenty-first century, Mr. Winters.” I wave my phone in the air, loving the way he glares. Insolence has my chin tilting upward, irises sparkling with amusement. I obviously have no care for my life, or I wouldn’t act so recklessly, especially with him.
• The high-pitched screech of a chair against linoleum sounds like an alarm reminding us Brian exists. Eyes snap to an awkward coworker, his hands twisting anxiously, sweat beads resting against his furrowed brows. His gaze shifting uncomfortably between us.
• “I’m..gonna get back to work,” he coughs, his voice pitchy, and cracking from the anxiety.
• “Yes, Brian,” Drake snarls, his glare eating the poor boy alive. All it would take is a small breeze for the man to crumble to ash. “Go back to work.”
• “Are we still having lunch tomorrow?” I ask hopefully, sidestepping to peer around Drake, but he’s quick, like a cat blocking me. His glare lighting me on fire with his rage, and I relish in it.
• “No,” Drake growls, answering for Brian. Who made it halfway to the exit before my question stopped him in his tracks. “I have a lunch meeting tomorrow and I’ll require you with me.”
• My pupils narrow, the lie he tells obvious. I scoured the calendar this morning, learning his schedule, to prepare myself for the upcoming week. He has nothing arranged for tomorrow, and now the only question is do I want to call him on it?
• “I apologize, Brian.” I relent, backing down, knowing my limits, and the difference between challenging Drake and absolute insubordination. “We will have to reschedule for another time, yes?” The question is sickly sweet, as I bat my lashes at him, in my attempts to flirt, which is abysmal.
• “Um,” Brian stutters, glancing at Drake as if seeking his approval to answer. “I..uh..Yeah, we can reschedule.” This response wasn’t what the beast wanted to hear, his hands clenching into tight balls. The flesh surrounding his knuckles is Casper white, despite the tattoos covering his skin.
• “Great, I’ll text you,” I call after the fleeing figure, who doesn’t acknowledge me. His attempt to put distance between himself and the behemoth.
• “Avery, lunch is over. Get your ass upstairs, now!” Drake spits between pursed lips a sour expression painted on his face, like he consumed a bowl of lemons. The cyclone of wrath wrapping around him turns me timid, grasping the trouble I’ve gotten myself into.
• “Yes, Mr. Winters,” I twist, wanting to clean my mess, when a frustrated command pauses my actions. A hand wrapping along my hip, his fingers pressing into the fabric, as he pulls me backward.
• “Leave it, Avery,” Drake instructs, his chest pressing into my back. The heat radiating from his body seeping into me, his breath along my neck, causing me to quiver. “Now go to my office, don’t stop at your desk, or talk to anyone else. Just go to my office and wait for me.”
• I twist until we are chest to chest, his cologne clogging my senses, my mind turning fuzzy from the contact. The countenance he wears is a deterrent from resisting further. Nodding, I sneak between him and the chair blocking my path. My heart races, my stomach twisted into knots, while my long legs hurry from the break room, his red- hot glare following me until it no longer can.
• Following his instructions, I rush through the office, not daring to look at another person. My rebellious streak is fun and all, but it’s writing checks I cannot cash. I might as well dig my grave with all the trouble my mouth is causing lately. Maybe, if I had gone through this phase earlier in life, I wouldn’t be engaged to Hayden Smith to begin with.
• Now, I am experiencing a life stage that was supposed to occur during my teens. The years of repressed troublemaking bubbling up in the worst ways, landing me in a world of shit.