I sent him an email asking for him to call me when he had a free minute. My phone rang ten minutes later.
“Avery? You sounded upset in your email.”
“I’m in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Financial trouble. I didn’t know who else to go to, and I need a lot of money fast.”
“How much?”
“Two thousand dollars. Maybe more. I’m not really sure.”
“That’s nothing to get upset over, love.” My phone pinged. “I’ve just sent twenty-five hundred to your account.”
My eyes closed, but the relief was bitter. “I’ll pay you back. We can work out a trade or—”
“Stop. That’s not how this works. I’m sure you need the money, and I hate to hear you upset. Is it family?”
He had a very sketchy picture of my background but knew enough about my circumstances to discern I was running away from something. “Yes.”
“Is everyone okay?”
“They will be now.”
“Take care of things, Avery. See that they get what they need, but perhaps tell them this is the last time. You work too hard to take responsibility for those who aren’t there for you.”
“I know. But it’s … complicated.”
“You have such an empathetic streak.” If only he knew the real me, the side that didn’t show emotion over death and acted like an absolute sociopath. “It’s your nature to want to take care of others.”
Was it? Or was that who Micah thought I was? The role I played for him?
I wanted someone to know the real me but still believed anyone would be repulsed by what they found. There was simply too much truth in my past, and I didn’t want those secrets tarnishing my future. It would always be better to keep the carefully fabricated illusion in place instead of facing reality when it came to my background. Believing that allowed me to fall into my usual role.
“You always take care of me,” I whispered, realizing I couldn’t risk losing him right now.
“Until the day you no longer let me, Avery. That’s a promise. Let’s have dinner tonight.”
I was supposed to watch a movie with Noah, but after Micah bailed me out, I didn’t have the heart to tell him no. “I’d love to.”
After thanking Micah again, I made a call to alert my mother that I had the money. A few more calls and an appointment was set to replace her old boiler. Unfortunate didn’t begin to explain my disappointment that someone needed to be present for the installation, and a clear path was required to deliver the appliance and remove the old one. Despite all my efforts to resolve this and keep my hands clean, I was going to have to go home this weekend.
By the time Noah got home from work, I was drained and fighting a headache, but I forced myself to go to his place and break our plans in person.
When I told him I had to cancel our plans, he was pissed. I figured he would be, but not to such an extent.
“It’s Friday. We had a date.”
“We were watching a movie in your living room.”
“It’s still a date.”
“Well, I have to work.”
He scowled. “So you’re breaking our date to go out with someone else.”
“Noah.”
He held out his hands. “What’s going on, Avery?”
I didn’t want to explain all the details of my shitty family life to him and the hoops I had to jump through just to pretend my situation was normal. “Nothing. God, can you just give me one night to myself without making it about you.” Okay, that might have been too far. “I’m sorry—”
He held up his hands and took a step back, literally backing off. “Go. Go do your job, Avery. It is what it is.” He loosened his tie and tossed it on the counter.
“Don’t say it like that. I need money, Noah. I have to live.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, flicking bills onto the granite countertop. Glaring at me, he snapped, “How much do I have to pay to get a Friday night with you? One hundred? Two?”
I drew back as if he’d slapped me. The pile accumulated. Twenties. Fifties. Each one a filthy insult that cut like a razor blade into my heart.
I shoved the money off the counter. “Fuck you!”
“Like that’s ever going to happen when you pass your weekends with other men!”
“Oh, like you never get a shot at me on any other day of the week! What the hell is wrong with you tonight?”
“I don’t want you going out with other men!”
“Well, it’s my fucking job, so too bad!”
His eyes darkened, his breath quickening. That familiar predatory gleam flashed in his eye, and he reached for me.
I lurched back. “Don’t even try it.”
The jerk just threw money at me and made me feel like a common whore. There was no way he was touching me. I pivoted and marched out of his kitchen.
“Avery, wait!”
“Screw you, asshole.” I kept walking, and he didn’t cross the hall after me.
My fury didn’t subside as I put on my makeup to get ready for my date with Micah. Then I had to do it all over again because my rage somehow morphed into tears. All I could picture was Noah tossing money at me. How could he insult me like that? Judge me?
When Micah arrived, I did my best to hide my emotions, but he always watched me a little too closely. The best I could do was lie and make him think my mood had to do with my family problems.
We had a quiet dinner on the Moshulu and then caught a winter concert in Penn’s Landing. By the time we made it back to my building, I was frozen to the bone and ready to curl into bed until Sunday.
Micah walked me up while Winston kept an eye on his car. I was glad he hadn’t parked because I couldn’t deal with any decision-making or pressure tonight.
When we reached my door, he took my key and opened the lock. “I think you need a weekend to yourself, love. Some time to think about your situation and where you want to be in a few months.”
I definitely needed to start thinking about that. It was almost February, and it would be May before I knew it.
“I think you’re right.”
He smiled, and I stilled, not used to seeing his face wearing any sort of telling expression. “Sweet dreams, Avery.”
“Goodnight, Micah.”
He leaned down, and I assumed he would press a kiss to my cheek or brush one across my mouth, but as his full lips closed over mine, I sucked in a sharp breath, and he took my surprise as an invitation to deepen the kiss, pulling my body into his and pressing a hand to my lower back.
The door across the hall crashed open, and I flinched, jerking out of Micah’s arms.
“What. The. Fuck?”
“Noah,” I gasped, wanted to explain that I hadn’t asked him to kiss me, but unable to find the words.
He seethed in his doorway, shoulders heaving and fists clenched at his sides. “She say you could fucking touch her?”
Micah faced him and adjusted his cufflinks, his face a composed mask of indifference. “I think you should go back where you came from, boy.”
“I’m not your fucking boy, and she’s not your fucking girl.”
“Noah, stop!”