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Leo came up to me afterwards. “You feeling okay, man?” he asked, patting my shoulder.
I put my head in my hands, confused as anyone by my behavior. “I… I think I need some time, Leo. Thanks for asking.”
Dammit, Ava.
She’s like a goddamn magnet sucking at my soul and the crazy thing is, she doesn’t even try. She’s not even aware.
Completely oblivious.
She kills me with the way she glows when she talks about her work, rambling on aboutGlisten,which I once made the mistake of making fun of. What an ass I was, to crap on someone’s passion.
And when I stuck my foot in my mouth, do you think she kicked my ass, like she probably should have? No, she just smiled quietly and explained I should spend some time reading the magazine before I jump in with my put-downs. After all, it’s the top-earning publication at Bonded Crest and the number one women’s magazine in the U.S., so what the fuck do I know.
Not a goddamn thing, it seems.
I’d been called out without being called out. That takes skill.
The lamest of clichés is running though my head, but could she possibly be making me a better person?
They said it couldn’t be done. That I was an unapologetic womanizer, man about town, and that the only way I’d change is if one of the babes I spent time with finally got under my skin.
Has that happened? And I haven’t even slept with Ava.
Not that I would. Big brother Andy and all.
I’ve never been one to crave the comfort of home, a place that meant nothing more to me than somewhere to keep my shit and rest my head at night. I’ve never owned a fork or knife or even a bowl, because I didn’t need them. On any night I wasn’t eating out, I’d get carry out. Problem solved.
I can barely boil fucking water.
Anything more adult, requiring more responsibility, is a foreign concept, locked away in a vault that may never be opened. But those late nights out, all those seductions—what were they for? Sure, I got off, but half the time I had no idea of the girl’s name, nor where she was from, nor what she did for a living.
Is Ava responsible for this, a silent, stealthy wrecking ball breaking down the world I’ve so carefully constructed, and everything that’s so ingrained in my identity? The thought of my former self seeping away, like a handful of sand slipping through fingers, terrifies me.
I’m fucking freaking out here.
Is this what I want, some new version of myself, which I seem to be heading toward? Or will I slip back into my old, comfortable ways?
It would be easy, so easy to just go back.
The crazy thing is that while I want to help Ava with her uncharted territory, it’s like I’ve been dragged into my own.
* * *
23
JASPER
“Hey, Ava, how’s it going?”Ethan calls from the sofa where we’re both settled in with beers and spicy chicken wings, watching a college game neither of us is very interested in.
It’s not lost on me that the moment we hear her key in the lock, Ethan straightens up his posture, pushes his hair back out of his face, and plasters on a shit-eating grin.
If he thinks he can cock-block me, he needs to think again.
“Yo, Av, how’s it hanging?” I call, trying to sound all casual and shit but probably coming off as a major douchebag.
“Oh, hi guys,” she says, barely looking our way. “I have some work to do. I’ll be back in my room, okay?”
And she’s gone.
