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“I don’t know, Ava.” I sigh. Ineedproof.
“It’s a bit farfetched, isn’t it?”
“He hates me. He knows you’re my Achilles heel. He’s been waiting for this.”
“Should we go to the police?” she asks, facing me. She looks so worried, finding it hard to comprehend. Me too, to be honest. It’s the lowest of blows, unbelievable, and yet I saw him with my own eyes.
“No, I’m dealing with it.”
She doesn’t argue with me, and it’s a fucking novelty. Because she’s scared. God, how simple her life would be without me. “I should be walking away from you.” I let my thoughts roll out of my mouth. “If I could bear it, I would.”
She looks at me in horror. “What?”
Her aversion is a small consolation. “I’ve upset a lot of people, Ava.” Jesus, the reality is, the weight of my guilt is lifting, but now I may have to deal with the repercussions. Ava’s my weak spot. And she hasn’t led the life I have. She’s been sheltered to an extent. I’ve seen what people are capable of, therefore my worry is warranted.
“Shut up, don’t say things like that.”
“Ava, the drink, the women—”
“I said, don’t. I don’t need a reminder that there have been other women since I’ve met you.”
I match her wince, apologizing. “I wish I could change everything, except you. You’re the only right thing in my life, and I’m even making that all wrong.”
My face is grabbed and pulled up. She’s fuming. Really, really mad. “Don’t.”
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”
“You reminded me.”
Reminded her. God, the strength, the determination. It’s potent. Why am I ruining what should be a wonderful evening? Dwelling on.. . everything. Surely now we’re stronger than ever. And I’m about to make us even stronger. And Ava’s flushed cheeks need to be flushed for another reason.Get us back on track.So I feel up her leg to her lace knickers. “I like your dress.”
“I like my dress too.” She holds my shoulders, and I jolt when I hear something hit the floor. Her bag.
I smile and collect some of her wetness and wipe it across her lips. “I’m a very lucky man.” And then I kiss it off, tasting her gloss mixed with her desire.
“That color doesn’t suit you,” she whispers, wiping my mouth.
Puckering my lips, I feel the sticky remnants of her lip color. “No?” Her laugh is pure joy, and it brings untold joy to me too. “I want to dance with you,” I declare as I turn on some music, totally random, quite inappropriate, but the upbeat tempo is perfect.
She smiles, unsure, questioning me, as I pull her close. And then she says, “You make me so happy,” and I just know in this moment that she’ll never leave me. I don’t know whether it’s just this moment, I truly hope not, but the feeling inside of completeness is strong, and I can see it in her too. Regardless of my transgressions. Regardless of her suspicions about her pills. She’s here, and she’s loving me with a fierceness equal to mine.
“I’m going to make you happy for the rest of my life, baby,” I promise, because from this moment forward, I’m going to try my damned hardest to be more reasonable. Less crazy.
As soon as I know exactly what the deal is with Van Der Haus. Naturally, I’m making no promises on the reasonability vow. I won’t get hung up on it, because I bet my gorgeous wife-to-be couldn’t promise to be less defiant.
“Let’s dance.” I guide her out of the kitchen into the lounge, and I dance with my girl, twirling her, holding her, turning her, and her smile pumps me full of life. There’s not a square inch of our home I don’t dance her through, even out onto the terrace where London is happening down below. And we are happening up here, high above the city.
“What are we doing?” she asks, continuing to humor me, following my random steps.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Something between a waltz and a quickstep, I think.” Could be some tango in there too. Can’t be sure. What I do know is that we’re not winning any ballroom dancing competitions. But we’re definitely both stillwinning.
Ava chuckles as I work us back into the kitchen, widening my smile, my eyes set firmly on her looking up at me. “I think I enjoy this just as much as being buried inside you.”
“Really?” she gasps, shocked.
“No.” What the fuck am I saying? “That’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever said.”
Her throat comes into my sights when she falls apart laughing, losing all strength in her muscles so I’m practically holding her up. It’s too much to resist, and I home in on her, lifting her to me, relishing the feeling of her locking my waist in her curled legs. Then I just stare at her. I think about our journey. How fucking lucky I am. How I can’t screw this up. She’s given me a second chance.
