Page 10 of The Best Worst Mistake (Off-Limits #2)

Dax

The moment Abby opens the door to her apartment, an enormous black-and-white tuxedo cat starts weaving himself around my ankles.

This vibrating ball of fur must be Toby.

She pauses behind me with her brows cinched tightly as I bend down to scratch under Toby’s chin. He starts to purr audibly, sounding like a bowling ball traveling down a ribbed alley, gearing up for a strike.

“Well, isn’t that something?” She sounds confused while watching him melt into me.

Toby’s tail wraps around my ankles before he swoops back under my hand, purring even louder. I tell her, “All cats love to be scratched under the chin.”

“No, of course he does. It’s just that he never greets me like that.

Usually when I walk in, it’s like a bomb has gone off.

He bolts behind the couch and waits there until I bring out a can of something for him to eat.

I always thought it was just because he missed Olivia and was disappointed that it was me coming home instead of her, but clearly it’s because he’s not a fan. ”

“Ah, no, it must be that catnip I rubbed into my ankles this afternoon.” I wink up at her.

She studies me, then smiles and brushes by. “I might need to try that.”

I stand up and look around, instantly taken aback when I see where she lives.

The sprawling, top-floor apartment is eclectic and vibrant.

Original artwork with distorted faces and what look to be intertwined, abstract bodies line one wall.

In front of it is an emerald-green chaise piled high with an ungodly number of cushions, each a varying shade of lemon.

A wiry chandelier hangs over a thick, wood-plank table.

In the middle of the table, elegant brass candleholders shaped like cranes stretch up toward the light.

But it’s the plants that catch me by surprise.

She has plants potted everywhere . Huge, banana-leaf ferns and parlor palms sprout up from earthy, terracotta vessels sitting beneath a long, industrial skylight that stretches from one corner of her apartment to the other.

The way she described her soulless imprisonment at the office, I had no idea that her apartment would be brimming with so much, well, life .

I reach out to touch the soft edge of a palm that’s as tall as me.

“This is it,” she says, throwing out a hand. “The place I love the most. Here in New York, anyway.”

“How do you keep all this alive if you’re never here?” I ask.

“I don’t,” she answers.

“You must have quite the green thumb to handle this in your complete lack of spare time.”

“I already told you about Carla, Toby’s bestie, but I also have an urban gardener that handles all this.

” She waves her arms around the room. “It costs me an arm and a leg every month, but it feels worth it to me. When I do make it back home, I want it to feel as different from the office as humanly possible. And with this, I’m always happy to be here.

Always surrounded by living things. No matter what. ”

“I can see why,” I tell her, admiring a little garden of succulents and herbs lined up in the window sill that perfectly frames the view of the city lights outside, catching a whiff of basil at first, then fresh mint. “It’s amazing.”

“It is,” she agrees, wistfully. “He does a great job.”

She makes her way across the kitchen to grab two turquoise glasses from the open shelving behind the sink.

“What can I get you? Water? Wine? I’m afraid I have zero food. Never here long enough to make a grocery trip worth it, but I’m pretty sure I won’t be hungry until next Tuesday, based on all the stuff you just ordered. I hope those eavesdroppers enjoyed that soufflé, by the way.”

I smile, but deep down I get a tinge of sadness tugging at my gut.

There’s this whole vibrant, living person inside of her.

One who loves being surrounded by trees and shrubbery inside her very own concrete jungle of New York.

But on the outside of all this, she’s built herself a bleak cage.

Stuck in an office most of the last six years, not even bothering to date or form any real relationships.

She seemed enamored with my lifestyle at dinner.

Making comments that gave me more insight into her life here than anything else she’s disclosed so far.

“Abby, why don’t you work for someone that’ll allow you to be this version of yourself?” I ask.

“What do you mean by this version ?” she says, spinning around.

I put a hand against the wall to study an oversized, abstract painting of what looks like a woman with jet black hair and a row of thick bangs covering her eyes. Wearing a cold coat of silvery armor, she floats on her back in a mossy sea of green.

“Did you paint this?” I ask, unable to pull my eyes away from the small signature scribbled in the corner that looks a lot like Abby’s name.

“Oh, that was a lifetime ago,” she says, looking embarrassed. Then she turns to grab a pitcher of filtered water out of the fridge and I can’t help but notice that, besides the water pitcher, the rest of the fridge is completely empty.

She wasn’t kidding about the no food thing.

Then she kicks off her heels and puts a hand on her hip, chugging the glass of cold water she’s just filled for herself. She walks a second glass over to me, stopping so close that our chests are practically touching when she pushes it into my hand.

“Drink this,” she says. “You had a lot of wine. And I’m going to need you in tip-top form.”

“I had no idea you were such a closet artist.” I study her eyes and ignore what she’s just hinted at, though my body instantly responds to her words.

How does this hardened woman I’ve spent the last six years of my life thinking about have all of this existing inside of her? And how come I simply never knew?

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” she says, lightly. Her lip twitches gently as if she’s well aware there are a whole world of secrets that she keeps to herself.

“We only went to my place in law school, didn’t we?” I ask, thinking back to whether or not I was ever invited over to her place. Come to think of it, I don’t think I was. Not a single time.

“Drink up, Dax,” she says, nudging the glass up to my lips.

I do as she says and chug half the glass. She carefully takes it back from my hand.

“I never had you over to my place back then, you’re right. But we’re here, now.” She slowly sets our glasses on the table behind me, making sure she brushes her chest up against me again as she does. “And you’ve successfully met Toby now, so . . .”

She looks up at me from beneath her lashes and I’m transported back to another place and time, when all I had to do was send her a text in order to end my night by looking into those deep amber eyes.

To look into her face with that exact expression she’s giving me right now.

The one that always ended with both of us breathless and moaning before she returned home at the end of our night.

She grabs a hold of my belt and drags me into her until our hips are flush against each other and there’s no more hiding what I want to do with her.

A longing smile fills her face, quietly triumphant, borderline smug. “So, you do still want me,” she says.

She moves one hand down from my belt to palm the growing bulge between us, nodding approvingly.

“I’ve never not wanted you,” I growl into her ear, feeling the heat of her breath hit the sensitive skin below my ear.

She tilts her chin up so her eyes meet mine as she moves her hand up and down against me. Her eyes catch the light of the moon pouring through her window, making the amber flecks move inside them like liquid pools of gold, challenging me.

“If that’s true,” she whispers into my ear, “show me.”

A wave of anticipation and knowing washes through me. The same I felt just before crossing the shop to talk to her this morning, mixed with an even stronger, more familiar longing that’s never gone away when it comes to her.

Abby’s eyes fill mine, searching for the answer.

I might have tried fooling myself into thinking I could keep things under control tonight, that we’d be better off leaving most things between us in the past. But we both knew where this was heading. I knew the second she smiled up at me this morning.

Fuck it.

I might want more than is possible when it comes to Abby. But I’ll take whatever I can get when I’m with her. And for tonight, that’ll have to be enough.