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She sighed into the phone. “Why do you have to be so sweet to me?”
Was that a trick question? “My road name is Ire. I’m not sweet.”
“Maybe not to your brothers, but you are to me.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
She giggled softly. “Do you really want to know what I need?”
“Yes.”
Say me. Say you want me to come and be with you, that you want me to hold you, kiss you breathless, and make love to you.
“I need…”
A breath hung in my lungs when her voice trailed. “Yeah?” I forced out the word.
“I just needed to hear your voice.”
I deflated. “Okay. What do you want me to talk about?”
“I don’t know. Your childhood, your hopes for the future, your greatest win, or your most heartbreaking loss. You can tell me anything.”
I didn’t like talking about my childhood. There wasn’t anything pleasant about it. Try as I might to forget it, I had scars on my back to prove it had been a fucked-up nightmare.
“The past should stay in the past.”
“I agree to a point. But we should keep our good memories close.”
“And you should.”
“Drew, don’t you have one good childhood memory?” She yawned into the phone.
I removed my biker boots and got comfortable on the bed. “Not really.”
“That hurts my heart.”
“Don’t feel bad for me. I’m who I am because of it.”
“Ah, yes. Ire, the angry man.”
“I’m not angry when I’m with you.” In fact, I was the happiest I’d ever been when I was with her.
“There’s that sweet side of you again. I’m really not that great, you know.” She had no idea how incredible and irresistible she was to me.
“You’re wrong, Ava.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“My mom didn’t think so.” The sadness in her voice gutted me.
“Don’t get mad, but your mother is selfish.”
“I’m not mad. I wish I knew why she didn’t want me.”
The words were on the tip of my tongue:I want you, Ava, so fucking much.“It’s her loss,” I told her.
