“Grey –”
“Avery –” He repeated back, like he used to every time she’d tried to argue with him.
Her light laughter eased the heavy weight on his chest.
“Fine. I already know you don’t need my address.” Her tone softened at the unspoken reminder of the many gifts he’d sent over.
“No, I don’t. I’ll see you at seven thirty on Saturday. And Avery?”
“Hmm?”
“I can’t wait to see you,” he said, hanging up before she could answer … or worse, not say the same.