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Sitting next to Ava in class is one thing. Having her sit in the tiny space of my car? Whole other story. Besides giving me directions, she doesn’t speak, but I hear every sound. Every breath, every swallow, every shift of her skirt against her thighs…
And my eyes… my eyes can’t seem to focus on the road because they’re too busy focusing on her.
“Just here,” she says, her voice pulling me back to reality.
I pull over in front of a diner and watch her looking out the window, her index finger flicking the ring around her thumb. It’s too big for such small, delicate fingers, and I wonder who it belongs to. The sun reflects off the bright red stone, and when I look closer, I see the words United States—She closes her fingers around her thumb, blocking the ring entirely. With her other hand, she reaches into the pocket of her skirt and pulls out her phone. Her thumb moves swiftly across the screen as she types out a text, but she doesn’t make a move to get out.
I strum my fingers on the steering wheel.
“You got somewhere you need to be?” she asks, not looking up.
“I’m good,” I tell her, then swallow my nerves. “Listen, about yesterday…” I wait for her to say something, and when nothing comes, I continue, “I think we got off to a bad start. I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did, and I guess I just wanted to apologize.” There. I said it. And as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I feel the tension lift off of my shoulders.
“We all say things we don’t mean,” she mumbles, shrugging, and it’s as genuine as the slight smile she offers me. A smile that has my stomach twisting. She adds, “That includes me. I shouldn’t have said what I did, either.”
I bite my lip, contain my grin, and take the apology one step further. “So… friends?”
She turns to me, and the corner of her lips lift just a tad. ”I’d make a horrible friend.”
I settle in my seat, my back against the door to give her my full attention. “To be honest, you could be the absolute worst friend in the world, and you’d still be the best one I have.”
Her smile fades, concern dripping in her words. “But you have the team, right?”
My eyes widen in shock. Busted. Caught in a lie. “I thought you hadn’t thought about me, not even for a second?” I tease.
“Just because I don’t listen, it doesn’t mean people don’t talk,” she rushes out, a blush forming on her cheeks. Shaking her head, she blinks hard. Once. Twice. “Anyway,” she says, scrambling for words. “You’re a good-looking jock. You don’t need friends when you can have girls.”
“Wait.” I sit up higher, my heart racing. “You think I’m good-looking?”
Those small hands of hers cover her entire face. “Jesus. That’s not—I didn’t mean—what I meant is that… I gotta go!”
NINE
ava
I practically run away from Connor’s car, past Trevor’s truck with the Knight Electrical decal plastered on the side. When I enter the diner, I keep my head down but my eyes up, searching. I spot Trevor almost immediately, working on an old jukebox. Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I try to feel for any visible signs of the blush I’m positive I’m wearing. I could blame it on all the people I’m sure are staring, but it’s not them. The real reason just drove away after letting me escape so I could yank the foot out of my mouth. You’re a good-looking jock… God! What an idiot! Who even says that?
I kick the heel of Trevor’s shoe when I get to him and wait the few seconds for him to pop his head out from behind the jukebox. His eyes widen when he sees me, and I tap my imaginary watch on my wrist. “Did you forget about me?”
“Shit, Ava. My bad. I got caught up.”
I drop my bag and sit in the booth next to his tool bag. “It’s cool. I just hitched a ride from some beefy dude with full-sleeve tats and a ferret named Roger.”
Trevor rolls his eyes. “I’m guessing he had a blacked-out van?”
“Motorcycle actually. Cool guy.”
He focuses on his work again. “Where was the ferret riding?”
“Shirt pocket. Obviously.”
Chuckling, he swaps one tool for another. “I’m almost done here. Grab a drink if you want.”
“I’m good.”
A few minutes later, Trevor’s being handed a check by the diner owner, and we’re on our way. Walking side by side toward his truck, he nudges my shoulder. “Guess what?”
