Page 23 of Fall Apart

“Luke!” Clay’s voice nearly catches me off guard when he shouts into the penthouse. I hear footsteps when a man, maybe about Clay’s height, but bigger and broader with shaggy auburn hair walks through the door.

“What’s up, boss?” He eyes Clay and then looks at me curiously. I’m wondering if Clay has mentioned me to him or something until he sees thecoffeein my outstretched hand and his eyes go wide. “Oh shit. You got my sugar fix?” He grabs the drink and takes a giant gulp. “They only have these like one month a year.” He punches Clay on the shoulder and walks back inside.

“That washisdrink?” I look at Clay and point back towards the door way. Another low chuckle rumbles from his chest before he sighs and stands tall. We’re back in this doorway again with him towering over me and his scent is everywhere, making the hair on my neck stand and my empty stomach do a weird thing.

“Yeah. He’s kind of a big softie.” His lips press into a line and he shrugs. And then I remember that I’m still mad at him.

“So, let me get this straight, this was just a game to fuck with me?”

He grins back at me, uncrossing his arms. My eyes don’t miss the way his biceps stretch out, highlighting the veins running down them to his tattooed forearms. “I like seeing you all fiery like this. It’s not every day I get to see a brat throw a temper tantrum. Makes the rest of the day seem a lot less dull.” He tilts his head down towards the bag. “And I did get you a chocolate croissant.”

Brat? Temper tantrum?

“That’s rich coming from Mr. Dark and Broody, running off in the middle of dinner.” His brows knit together and his nostrils flare, but he still just keeps smirking at me. “Next time, just leave that at my door, OK?”

He shrugs and extends a finger towards me. “If I didthat,then I wouldn’t get to seeyoulikethis.” I watch him motion his finger in a circle around my face.

I know he’s toying with me, but I can still see the lust in his eyes. And there’s something almost refreshing about it. I’m used to being told totone it downorbe less.But I think he likes me like this and that’s new for me.

I pack that idea into the back of my mind and focus on the moment and roll my eyes at him. “Well, thanks for the croissant, I guess. And for being quiet this morning.”

Then I grin at him, take his drink, take a giant gulp, and turn back towards the elevator. I make it a few steps when I hear him call back to me.

“Lizzy, wait.”

I look back and see him reaching down towards the floor and notice the coffee carrier at his feet.

And then I notice his feet. Or more accurately, the oversized, fluffy shoe shaped slippers that he’s wearing over his work boots. They’re the kind you’d buy as a kid and wear to sleepovers or in your college dorm. Was he wearing those over his boots all morning just to be quiet?

While I stand there gaping at him like an idiot, he reaches down and grabs the cup from the carrier and hands it to me. It’s a nitro cold brew, just what I’ve been drinking lately, withPRINCESSsharpied on it.

“Here you go.” He holds the drink and winks. “You have good taste.”

“Oh.” I stand there, awkwardly still gaping at him like a fish gasping for air. What the hell is this game? I shake my head, bringing myself back to the moment. “Do you want this one back or…?” I hold out his drink that I just took a big gulp out of like the temper tantrum throwing brat he already called me.

He grabs his cup back from me and hands me the new drink, smirking. “Not the first time I’ve had your spit in my mouth.”

Before I can even process anything, he’s gone back inside, closing the door behind him.

He went out of his way to be quiet in possibly the most comical way I could imagine. He got me a pastry and my coffee. Is this a giant game to him? Is he just fucking with me?

I wake up Friday,pleasantly surprised when I get up right before my 7:45AM alarm. Since Tuesday, I haven’t heard a peep from the construction site upstairs before eight in the morning. Clay might be a bit prickly and obnoxiously cocky, but he did what he said he would do. It’s been quiet and I’ve gotten to sleep as late as I prefer.

But he’s also done a bitmorethan he said he would. Each of the last three mornings, he’s left a drink and a pastry at my door after knocking loudly. Each time, it’s some over the top, sugar filled monstrosity with Luke written on it. And each time, I go upstairs, play his little game, and leave with my actual drink. I’m still not sure if he just enjoys tormenting me or if it’s a genuine gesture of goodwill, but I’ll take it. And today, I find myself oddly let down when 8:05 comes and goes without a knock at my door. A couple minutes go by and curiosity gets the better of me and I open the door.

To my pleasant surprise, there’s my coffee and a bag with a pastry.

No crazy, sugar filled cavity maker. Just my coffee and a pastry. Seeing it weirdly gives me butterflies in my stomach. Even without the knock, like clockwork, my little treat to start the day has shown up. I reach down to grab and notice another bag from Finch under the pastry bag.

I walk back inside my condo and set the drink and pastry on the counter. The mystery bag is heavy and about the size of a book. It’s from Finch, so I assume that’s what it is. Dipping my hand into the bag, I pull out a book. That’s not a surprise. But what would Clay buy me?

My jaw hangs when I get my answer. This isn’t just a book. This issmut.Like the smuttiest, why choose, hockey smut. Sure, it has a discreet illustrated cover. Does he even know what he just bought me?

My cheeks heat, but it’s equal parts embarrassment and equal parts giddiness. I love good books and this series has been on my TBR list. I drum my pink fingernails across the cover before I start flipping through the pages, enjoying the smell of a new book. When I get towards the end, a note falls out.

Settle a bet for me. Me and the girls at the coffee shop said this would be rightup your alley. I would have pegged you as more of a faerie girl.

I grabthe book and my coffee and head to the elevator. While my little coffee and pastry deliveries are great, the smut might be a bit much, even given our history, namely us having our tongues down each other’s throats. I feel like we’ll need to establish boundaries at some point. But in the mean time, I’ll play his game.

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