New: GAVIN {Published• 7-Chapter Sample}

Chapter 5

Saturday. The entire fucking week was lost, lost to her, lost to driving down this street every fucking day, only to find the same thing: no lights, no car. She'd disappeared. And I was a minute from filing a missing person report or tracking down her kid on campus, asking for a fucking explanation. Worse, I wasn't pissed, I was worried. That annoyance from the first drive-by turned to anger by the second, anxiety by the third. Every fucking day that voice hissed in the back of my mind: she was gone for good.

And here I was again, wasting a Saturday night driving her street because I couldn't kick the need to see her, to make sure she was okay, to know where she was.

I saw the lights, then the car. "Fuck, finally!" The relief spiraled out of me, concern making a quick one-eighty to fucking pissed. Where the fuck had she been! My foot hit the brake; I grabbed the planter, charging up to that door to give her a fucking lesson in etiquette.

One knock. Two. The door shook, swung open to her, smiling too big for her face as she sang, "Hey, sweetie."

The yell I was ready to unfurl dissipated into thin air at her greeting. That's what I'd been waiting for. "Hello."

Her hazy eyes zeroed in and out, her body followed the motion, leaning in and back. "Gavin?" she asked, crinkly- faced and fucking tipsy. "What are you doing here?"

What am I doing here? Jesus fucking Christ. So much for that greeting. I lifted the box from my side, holding it out. "I stopped by the last few days, but you weren't home."

She eyed the planter before looking away with zero fucking interest. "I was at the hospital. You could have just left that on the patio."

Left that... I... wait! I knew it! I fucking knew it. That dizzy shit the other day was serious. "Why were you at the hospital?"

She shrugged, no fucking concern whatsoever. "I work there. I'm a nurse."

My shoulders and chest deflated, a relief-filled sigh followed. Wait... "A nurse"... There she was, prancing in a tight white dress, cleavage pouring out the top. I hadn't been to a hospital since the day I was born; maybe it was time for a visit.

Her drunk ass spun around, flipping her wrist over her shoulder, lazily waving. "Thank you for the planter. You can set it on the table."

Really? That was it? I built this with my own two hands for you, but no worries, I'll just set it next to the fucking table.

And she was gone, leaving me at the door while she stumbled to the couch, done with me. Really? Had she not heard me say that I'd stopped by the last few days? That I came for her? Well, I wasn't fucking leaving now. "What are you watching?" I shut the door at my back, followed her to the couch, ready to sit beside her, except she folded her legs over the cushion I was heading for.

"I don't know." The TV illuminated her profile and those strands of hair dangling from the mess she had her hair bunched in. Then her profile turned full face, smile directed at me, talking through chirpy laughs, "I'm mostly just drinking." She lifted her glass as if those hazy eyes weren't evidence enough. "But you should probably go."

I was tempted to look over my shoulder to the guy she was telling to leave, but I knew she was talking to me. "Really? No one's ever told me to leave."

She kinked her head to the side, a wave of hair falling over her eyes that she swiped away without taking her eyes off mine. She was so fucking difficult to read. This stare she was giving me wanted more; I felt it.

"I'm not surprised," she finally said and just as quickly looked away. "Go, you don't want to miss your curfew."

Ouch. Then there was that bullshit, talking down to me, acting like I was some fucking nuisance showing up at her door. "I'm twenty-two. I don't have a fucking curfew."