No such luck.
A second later, she plops down beside me on the stone ledge, swinging her legs happily. She's holding a pink stuffed bunny in one hand and a cookie in the other.
I'm fucking doomed.
"I'm surprised you hide up here when you're all emotionally constipated, considering you're trapped up here half the time," she says, cocking her head at me with a knowing grin that makes my chest ache.
"I'm not hiding," I mutter with force. "I'm thinking. Brooding if you will."
"Brooding," she mimics, her voice laced with mirth.
"Contemplating," I return with a shrug.
"Sulking," she sings, offering me the cookie. "Here. It's oatmeal raisin. Should help with that constipation I was talking about."
My growl rumbles through my chest because that's the only way to hide the chuckle that threatens to tumble out.
And obviously I take the damn cookie.
She leans against my side, her head resting lightly on my arm. "Do you always dramatically run off after kissing someone, or did I hit a nerve?"
I grunt.
What the hell else am I supposed to do?
She laughs softly, and it's like those first stirrings of sunset. Comforting, golden, soothing. "You kissed me like I was made of glass. Precious. And then... like you were starving for me. It was quite the heady combination."
I glance down at her, and there's nothing flirty in her expression now. Just curiosity. Maybe a smidge of vulnerability.
And a hint of hope that terrifies me.
"You're made of sunshine, sugar, and butterflies. This, too, is quite a combination, sweetheart. You have no idea what you're doing to me," I say, the words scraping raw from my throat.
Her smile softens. "Maybe I do," she whispers. "Maybe this is all part of my master plan and I'm spinning my web to catch the grumpy gargoyle."
Before I can respond, before I can pull her into my embrace and lose myself in her again, her phone buzzes.
She fumbles it out of her oversized cardigan pocket, blinking at the screen.
"Oh crap. That was quick! It's the guy from the kink retreat directory." She squeals in delight. "I only emailed him a short while ago. I didn't think they'd get back this soon." Avalon stares at her screen, a hint of nerves showing in the set of her shoulders. "What if soon is bad?" she asks, looking at me with large eyes.
I tense, instincts immediately shifting. She's starting to panic. Oh my sweet, sweet girl.
"What do I do? Say?" she whispers. "What if I mess this up?"
I take the phone gently from her hands and hold it screen up, my clawed finger hovering over the green button. "You answer it," I tell her, my voice low and steady. "Because you're not going to mess anything up. You're going to be exactly who you are—clever, warm, full of ideas. And if they don't see that, value that for the beautiful thing it is, they're a bunch of idiots."
She looks up at me, lips parted. "You think I can do this?"
I nod once, then brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "Iknowyou can."
She takes a shaky breath and nods at me so I answer the call, placing it on speaker.
Her voice wobbles at first, but then it smooths out.
Avalon shrugs off the scared little girl, and in her place is a confident, passionate businesswoman.
I watch her, struck silent.