Page 36 of Unpredictable

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Chapter Ten

Istare out the window of my favorite bakery with a scone and a tea in front of me, trying to work up the nerve to text him.

One text, V. You can do it.

I growl as I pull out my phone and scroll through my messages until I find our text thread.

I open it and text him.

Me: Hey, I’m in town. Can I stop by?

I hit Send before slamming my phone down. I tear off a part of the scone and shove it into my mouth, not tasting it.

My phone vibrates on the table, shaking my tea and making me flinch. I take one, then two, then three deep breaths before I pick it up.

Sterling: Sure. I’ll be home in about twenty minutes. If you beat me there, let yourself in.

Me: Sounds good.

Biting my lip, I look across the street at his building.Should I let myself in? Should I wait here and only go once I know he’s home? Why is this so hard?

I finish my tea and scone before standing and cleaning up my mess. The time tells me it’s only been fifteen minutes since he texted me.

Might as well make myself at home, I think as I roll my eyes. I make my way across the street and walk into his building.

“Miss Victoria, it’s been too long!” the doorman greets.

“Hi, Steve, how have you and the wife been?” I ask, genuinely interested.

“You know, you’re the only one who asks.” He laughs. “We’re good. We just found out we’re going to be grandparents!”

“That’s amazing, congratulations!” My hand moves onto my stomach on its own.

“Thank you.” He smiles. “Are you here to visit Mr. Brooks?”

“I am.”

“Well then, you best head up. You have a safe drive home, okay?”

“I will. Take care, Steve.”

As I walk up to his door, I pull my keys out of my bag and let myself in without a second thought. The door shuts behind me as I walk into the kitchen. Right before I drop my keys into my purse his key catches my eye. I finger it for a moment.

Why didn’t I give this back?I wonder as I slide it off my key ring.I don’t need it.As I set it gently on the counter, my hand hovers over it second-guessing myself.No, it’s only right to give it back.

I walk further into the room and stare out the window. I don’t know how long I stand there before the door softly clicks behind me. I listen to him walk in, only to stop.

“You’re really here,” he says behind me.

“I’m here,” I murmur, watching his reflection in the glass.

He sets his keys on the counter, and the moment he notices my key, he frowns.

“This isn’t a social visit,” I say before he can speak.

“No?”

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