But she’s worth the risk. I know it’s been hard for her, that Haylee’s been difficult, but I can see it. She’s not quitting, she’s sticking around, and fuck…
I like her. I really, really like her. I’ve never felt this way about a woman, not for a long time.
I trust my instincts. And right now, my instincts tell me to gamble on Avery.11AveryLike always, I can’t get Julian out of my had.
But this time, it’s for a different reason.
I keep thinking about that warehouse full of cars and old computers and comic books. It’s like a palace for a rich man, and yet it felt so… lonely.
There were no people. It was just a huge, empty room full of stuff.
Looking at those cars, all lined up and gleaming and sitting alone in the dark, I think I can understand what he’s going through. I think I get why he wants me in on his business.
My dad’s death rattled him. I know he’s still grieving, even if he doesn’t realize it yet. They were friends, around the same age, and I bet he keeps thinking about that fact all the time.
If that’s the only reason he wants me in on his business, I can’t do it. I can’t go into this just because he’s having some kind of existential crisis. If he really thinks I’d be good in the role, that I’m worthwhile, I’ll go for it. Of course, it’s an amazing opportunity and it could change my entire life completely.
But I have to do it for the right reasons.
And I just don’t know.
I sit on my couch after work and sigh, legs curled underneath me. I try to concentrate on the TV, but I can’t seem to stop thinking about him. I keep seeing the cars, and then feeling his body behind mine, fucking me, taking me.
There’s so much more to Julian than I realized at first. I thought he was just this rich playboy asshole that was doing my father a favor by hiring me. Now though, the more I get to know him, the more I realize there’s a depth to him, hidden from view, but there.
I don’t know if he’s letting me get a glimpse of that depth because he’s genuinely interested in me… or if he just wants to sleep with me.
God damn, it’s so frustrating. I keep walking myself in circles. I keep wondering if this is real, and if it’s real, why he’s picking me. If it’s not real, then I don’t know what any of this means.
It’s driving me totally insane. As I sit here, trying to work all this out in my head, I catch a glimpse of my work bag open on my kitchen table.
I get up slowly and walk over to it. The new pages from Haylee are stacked in there. I take them out, sit down on the couch, and start to read.
I’m totally engrossed. I don’t even look up until I finish it entirely through. I have to start over again from the beginning.
After my second read-through, I recognize the feeling in my pit of my stomach.
It’s dread.
I read through it again and again. Four times in total, and it’s late by the time I get up and start pacing around my living room.
The pages are bad. Like, really bad. Typos and grammar and writing style aside, the story itself is taking a dramatically insane turn. I mean, it barely even makes any sense. The main character gets killed off and is replaced by a random secondary character that was only briefly mentioned in the earlier pages. It’s totally bat-shit insane and I know people are going to rebel. I mean, the main character was so likeable and well written and deep and…
Oh, god. I stop pacing and it hits me.
I hate these pages. I hate them so much. And I’m going to have to do something about it.
Basically in a panic, I grab my phone and call Julian. He answers on the second ring.
“Avery?”
“Hey, I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, it’s…” I clear my throat and steady myself. “It’s the pages Haylee gave us.”
He sighs. “Shit. I thought you were, like, getting robbed or something.”
“Why would I call you for that?”
“I don’t know. You need a big strong man to come save you.”
“I’d call the cops if that’s what I wanted.”
He snorts. “Please. I’m practically a cop.”
“You know you’re not at all, right?”
“What about her pages?” he says, changing the subject.
I sigh as the dread comes back. “Look, can I come see you?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. I’ll send a car.”
“Okay, great.” I hang up the phone without thinking.
It’s not until the car arrives and I get in the back that I realize he probably thinks this is a booty call.