Using his words and giving him the same sanctuary he’d offered her, Avery murmured, “And now you don’t have to say sorry anymore either.”
Chapter Ten
Weston’s heartrate was kicked up too high. He inhaled sharply to try to ease the tension in his chest and turned up the volume on the radio a couple notches so she wouldn’t hear him freaking out. Avery was in his truck, smelling like that fucking delicious cherry lip gloss and some floral shampoo she’d used on her hair. Even her skin smelled good and so…Avery.
She’d been driving him wild for a straight week as she’d worked quietly at Big Flight. He’d been watching her. Why? Because he couldn’t help himself. She was beautiful, and already so different from the first day she’d come in for an interview in that ugly sweater. At first, he’d convinced himself she just looked different because Ryder had peer-pressured her into wearing a tank top and shorts with her sneakers. How wrong he’d been.
Avery had been broken by her people.
Each day, she’d gained confidence. She’d stopped wearing her hair in a tight bun and let it flow down her back in soft waves. She smiled more and met customers’ direct gazes. She’d stopped dropping that pretty chin of hers around Ryder, but she’d kept the habit around Weston. That was his fault.
Ma was right. Weston could feel it in the air. Avery did have a more dominant raven inside of her, but her people had cowed her. They’d bent her and pushed her until she’d gone to her knees and forgot how to stand back up. And damn, there was something so rewarding about getting a front row seat to watch her learn to stand again.
He would have to be careful not to coddle her. It wouldn’t help a woman like Avery if he just came to her rescue like his inner animal was crowing to do. She needed to gain confidence on her own that she was a capable woman.
Already, Weston admired her so much just from what he’d learned tonight. She’d left Raven’s Hollow, and he had a feeling it had been much harder to do than she was letting on.
Weston squeezed her thigh again just to reassure himself she was still here, still solid under his palm. Fuck, he loved touching her. He was gonna keep that to himself, though, because the rest of the crew wouldn’t understand the history here. They wouldn’t understand how much Avery had meant to Weston growing up. How she’d been a first in so many ways. First friend outside of Damon’s Mountains, first crush, first lo— Weston shook his head hard because he couldn’t afford to go there again. That word had dragged him to his knees, too, and he wanted to remember how to stand up along with Avery.
There was a reason he hadn’t wanted a serious girlfriend over the years. There was a reason he slept with girls and ended relationships after three dates. There was a reason he’d been terrified of giving his heart to someone else. Because Avery had taken up so much real estate in his chest at fourteen and fifteen, she’d left a mountain-sized hole when they’d parted ways. She’d been a grenade, and no normal woman stood a chance of filling that void. It was too deep and too wide, and Weston didn’t give trust easily. He never had.
And now she was back, her fingers linking with his, and he needed to figure out what this meant. What she meant. What it meant to feel this good just touching her leg. What it meant that his heart was pounding so hard, and why his dick had been at full-blown boner-status since the day she’d walked into Big Flight. He’d have to figure out what it meant that every instinct in his body wanted to go to Raven’s Hollow and throttle everyone who had ever hurt her. The urge for violence to avenge her pain was dizzying.
Avery Foley was big. She was crawl-in-his-heart-and-make-a-home-there-for-always big. That kiss out in the woods had done something to his chest—something terrifying and elating all at once. She’d warmed him. More than that, it was like he’d been struck by lightning the second she’d leaned in and kissed him hard. Her lips had set him on fire from his toes up.
And if he went at this full-speed-ahead like his raven wanted, it wouldn’t be like when they were kids. He was a man who had watched the Bloodrunners settle down with mates, one-by-one. And somewhere along the way, he’d begun to want that, too. He’d begun to crave something more than his solitary existence. His raven was ready for more.
And now, Avery had come in right when he was softening to the idea of taking a mate. Was this the Fates toying with him?
“You’re still a quiet man, like when you were a boy,” Avery said.
Weston cast her a quick glance as he turned onto the gravel road that led to Harper’s Mountains. “You only met me once, and that wasn’t the best impression to go by. How do you know I’m quiet?”
She was resting her cheek on the back of the seat, her full lips curved up just for him, her eyes so bright nestled in all those dark lashes. Like a psychopath, he wanted to trace her freckles with the tip of his finger.
“I could tell from the way you wrote. You didn’t give me extra words. Not ever. You only wrote the important stuff. I could always hear your voice when I read your letters.”
“You remembered my voice?”
Avery giggled a pretty sound, like a bell. He wanted to kiss her now, just to taste her happiness. “We weren’t great at talking on the phone.”
Weston chuckled and shook his head. “No, we weren’t. I still don’t like talking on the phone for long.”
“And I was awkward. I didn’t know how to talk to males. Letters were easiest.”