42
In the world of options that lay before Ava – to demand an explanation, to berate him, to end it – the only thing she wanted to do was to get away from Mat as quickly as she could.
Brutus heeled closely at her side. Mat yelled after her, jogging to keep up. ‘Ava? Are you walking home? Where are you going? Your apartment’s in the other direction!’
‘Please don’t follow me,’ Ava said, and she could hear his footsteps slow. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of looking over her shoulder, but she couldn’t help but imagine what he would look like if she did. He would be standing there rubbing the back of his head. He would be criminally charming. His cheeks would be rosy. His hair would be perfectly disheveled. She pulled Brutus ahead, electrified by anger, and ordered herself a
