PULSE

Chapter Ten

[ AUGUST 22 ]

I thought about calling her before I showed up at the shop—or texting her, at least—but by the time I stepped up to the glass doors, I still hadn't made a move toward my phone. I finally dug the phone out of my pocket, squinting through the doors and into the dark shop as I dialed her number—a number I'd memorized.

I half expected her not to answer.

The line cleared after a few rings.

"Aidan?"

I sighed in relief, leaning my head against the doors of the shop. "Hey. Were you sleeping?"

"No. Not really. Do you need anything?" Ava asked, her voice hushed to something just above a whisper.

I stared at the ground, my brows drawing tightly together. "I'm okay. Can you come open the door?"

"Hmm? The door?" There was a shuffling on the other end of the phone that sounded like her standing up. "Yeah. Okay."

I hung up, placing my hand against the glass door and pushing myself off of it. Stowing my phone in my pocket, I stood silently on the sidewalk outside of the shop, shadowed in the darkness of a broken streetlight. The sky above was well aware that it was long past midnight, and even the moon seemed to have disappeared, bathing the world in a blackness wherever the streetlights couldn't reach.

Ava pushed the door open shortly after I hung up the phone, watching me with an empty face. She scanned my body quickly, as if searching for some bodily harm that had come to me. When she didn't seem to find anything, her eyes met mine, scrunched together in confusion.

"Are you feeling alright?"

I nodded.

"You don't look well," she replied, talking more to herself than to me. "I'll get you some water."

She began to turn around, heading toward the kitchen where the water pitcher was, but I moved just as quickly as she did. Before she could make a step, I grabbed her by her wrist, stopping her from moving any further. Without waiting for her to react, I pulled her suddenly toward me, hard enough for her to stumble into my chest in her surprise. For a moment, she only stood against me, holding her breath and staring my hand, still clutching her wrist.

Before my mind could catch up with me, I lifted my other hand, wrapping it around her waist and holding her in her place. I stayed like this for as long as the moment allowed—for as long as she would allow before breaking away from me. Instead of pulling away from me when she regained her composure, though, her free hand slowly moved up toward my head, stopping at my neck and resting there. She held me delicately, as if she were afraid that I would implode if she moved too fast.

I was afraid of that, too.

"Aidan..."

She sounded like she had a question, but she didn't speak again.

She held me instead. Maybe she could feel that that was safer.