Page 19 of Unbroken

She gave a little nod but stayed silent, and several seconds passed before he spoke again.

“Do you want to come in?”

She looked torn.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Are you really going to make me stand out here like this?”

He lifted a brow her way, and he swore he saw the tiniest twitch of her lips as she repressed a smile.

“I suppose not.”

He tipped his head toward his apartment.

“I ordered some pizza; it should be here in a few minutes.”

“Oh, I don’t want to interrupt.” She shook her head. “I’ll just… I should go.”

“Maya.”

Blue eyes blinked up at him, and he knew he couldn’t let her walk away.

“Have dinner with me. Please.”

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

Maya stood in the hallway, fighting to draw in a full breath, her heart racing in her chest. This had all seemed like a good idea an hour ago. Now, though, she wasn't so sure. She told herself a hundred times on the way over that she would follow through with it.

Her psychologist had told Maya that the feelings would eventually go away. Her anxiety had recently been through the roof, and together they’d devised a plan for Maya to try something new once a week. She was supposed to do something the “old her” would have done without a second thought.

Well, this was definitely new.

She didn't even really know Aiden, yet here she stood outside his apartment. She was literally setting herself up for the exact same situation she’d escaped a year ago.

She should be terrified.

Maya was nervous. Worried.

But not scared.

Deep down, she knew Aiden would never hurt her.

She still couldn't explain what precisely had prompted her to get into the car and drive over here. Even when she’d entered the lobby after one of the tenants held the door open for her, she hadn't really expected to find herself on Aiden's doorstep.

But now she was here, and she had to decide what to do.

Go in or turn back?

She threw a glance at apartment 7B. What she’d thought was just a turn of phrase, he apparently had meant literally. The door stood wide open, waiting for her to make her decision.

He’d never made any untoward move, never come on to her, yet months ago he’d handed her a card with his personal information written on the back in scrawling black ink.

If you ever want to reach me, he’d said.

Had he suspected she was attracted to him and hoped she’d contact him?