Deeper (The Deeper Chronicles #1) by Allyn Lesley Page B

heart thumped, falling from his chest cavity to the pit of his stomach. He quickened his stride to his chair, needing to sit in fear of passing out. He flipped the envelope over, the return address registering in Harry’s consciousness.

N ew York welcomed autumn with open arms. Willow leaves changed to deep ruby reds and burnt oranges that floated off tree branches and onto pavements. Avi’s students frolicked in the fallen leaves during recess with smiles that overtook their cherubic faces. On her way home from running errands, her neighbors’ children could be found on the sidewalk laughing and playing or basking in the last of the day’s sun before they went indoors.
    Unlike them, Avi could never relax.
    She was tightly wound. More letters arrived daily, but the worst were her dreams. A month had passed since Avi had entered Club Envy for a simple night of fun and forgetfulness. She had left with the promise of a date, but not with the man she wanted to say yes to, despite her better judgment. She had been thinking way too much about the mysterious man. Avi wished she could erase the way his dark murky eyes that crinkled at the sides and made her stomach leap, or how the rough pads of his fingers ignited goose bumps along her skin.
    Plopping onto her loveseat, she slid the zip up on her boot. I’m as confused now as I was the night he left with someone else. Avi didn’t want to care who Noah left with. She didn’t want to wonder, in the middle of brushing her teeth or teaching the importance of punctuation, what he was doing at that moment. Many times, Avi had opened her mouth to ask Sofie for something, anything about Noah Adams, but in the end, she lost her nerve when memories of Florida brought her back to her senses.
    Her gut told her to stay away, and that was her intent.
    “I’ve got enough on my plate,” Avi said to the empty room, yet her words lacked the conviction she was going for.
    Her case wasn’t helped by the dreams that had been plaguing her.
    Panty-drenching dreams.
    Steamy dreams.
    Dreams that all starred a certain dark-eyed man.
    In every single one, her body was deliciously curved into pretzel-like positions—dominated by his large, heavy hands, and his hard body. Each morning, without fail, she woke soaked from head to toe.
    Light perspiration dotted Avi’s upper lip when she remembered her latest dream. Not even the breeze coming through her cracked window helped. She glanced at her watch.
    “Where the hell is he?” She peeked through the blinds onto the street below her window. “I hate being late.”
    Maybe I need a damn cat or something, so I don’t have to talk to myself like a crazy person. Her cell rang.
    “Finally,” she said, as if the caller was in the room, and then picked up the phone. “Hello.”
    “Are you coming down?” he asked.
    “Already on my way.”
    She grabbed her overnight bag from the floor. Rising, her eyes snagged on the unopened letters. Those were the reason she couldn’t become involved in anything complicated—and Noah screamed complication. Grabbing her keys, she decided she’d deal with the letters when she came back. She clicked the lights off and locked her apartment door.
    Jayson stood by the back of a car with the trunk open. Avi’s eyebrow rose. She knew next to nothing about him or his finances, but guessed there was little chance he’d be able to afford the Bentley in front of her. Though Avi had said friends, Jayson kept hearing a different word and continued to press his case to her at various intervals, many times during text messages.
    “It’s a rental,” he said, jogging toward her.
    He stopped a few feet from her, appreciation evident in his smile. Jayson didn’t hide that he was checking her out, and she fidgeted under his perusal, which left her cold and uninterested.
    She was a curvy woman thanks to her very hippy mother, who also blessed her with a butt that stuck out too much, in Avi’s estimation. “Damn skinny jeans