“Oh. I don't want to talk about that. Let's talk about tigers.”
“You should make a move, Nox.”
Ugh. The rest of the conversation devolved into Zoe trying to convince me to make a move, and me trying to change the subject. I didn't feel like telling her that I had already made a move, and it had ended terribly.
Vic wasn't interested me even when I was naked and literally panting at his feet. Hmm. It was still a huge ego blow, even when thinking about it in the past.
I knocked on Vic's door. There was no answer. I checked my cellphone: 8:00 P.M. I was on time. I knocked again and then I started to get nervous. Nothing makes me more anxious than getting an address wrong. Standing outside, looking like a fool as you wait for someone to answer the door and they never do.
I knew Vic lived in the penthouse; the entire top floor. How coul
d I get the address wrong when it's in my own building? If anyone could manage it, it's me. I was about to knock a third time when Vic answered the door.
He looked crazy. Completely undone.
I took a step back in surprise. “Are you alright?” I asked, genuinely worried.
“Yes,” Vic snapped.
I reeled my head back like I’d been slapped in the face. What the . . . ? I stood in the hall, feeling like a dunce. Vic stared at me, his black eyes wild and his hair a mess in his ponytail.
“Can I come in?” I asked, peering behind him like a fan trying to see in to a celebrity's dressing room.
“Why?” Vic asked, closing his door tighter.
What the fuck? Did he forget we were having dinner? “For dinner? You invited me?”
“Shit.” Vic stomped his foot on the ground. “Uh, can we do that another time?”
“Vic, what's wrong?”
“Nothing, okay? It's just not a good time.”
I pushed past him and into his apartment, kicking off my shoes when I got inside. Counter to his appearance, his place was immaculate and very modern: stainless steel, white furniture, huge glass windows. I don't think I could find a speck of dust even if I searched in the smallest nook. I turned back to look at Vic, but he wasn’t there. Looking around, I saw that he’d moved into his kitchen.
“I don't have dinner made, so there's nothing for you here,” Vic said, gesturing around the clean kitchen.
Ouch. Nothing for me.
“Maybe you could use a friend right now,” I said, shrugging. I think I'm a masochist, putting myself through all of this torture. Being attracted to Vic when he doesn't want me. Being friends with Vic when he doesn't want me. All of it, torture.
“No, I couldn't. I could use some peace and quiet.”
“What the hell is wrong? Why are you so angry?”
“It's none of your goddamn business, Lennox.”
“Is it a girl?” I asked, hoping to God it wasn't.
“No.”
Score one for the G-man. “Is it about the building?”
“Stop asking questions.”
I moved closer. “Why won't you just tell me? I can help you.”
“If you want to help me then you will leave,” Vic said.