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“Did you speak to Clive?” she asks out of the blue, and I falter in my flow, the sponge stalling momentarily on her chest.
“About what?”
“The mystery woman.”
God damn it, she’s not going to let this go. “No, Ava, I didn’t have time.” I try not to sound bored. Or irritated.Fail. “I promise you I will. I’m just as curious as you are.”Dickhead. Change the subject. “Now, are you hungry?” I lick her ear, breathing long, hot breaths, feeling her shudder.
“I’m not going to sleep until you tell me who that woman was.”
Who said anything about sleeping? She sounds as impatient as I’m feeling. Doesn’t she trust me? I flinch. She shouldn’t. One of the reasons Ava resisted our connection was because she deemed me a danger to her heart. She, like Sarah, and perhaps thanks to Sarah’s input, too, thought I was in it for one thing and one thing alone. Fucking.You’re not the kind of man to build dreams on.Yes, there have been many women in the past. Yes, some of them are bold and brash and undoubtedly jealous. There are many things Ava doesn’t need to orshouldknow, and a hot list of my past fucks is one of those things. “How can I tell you if I don’t know?” I ask tiredly, wishing she’d just drop it. Move on.
“Youdoknow.”
“I don’t fucking know,” I bark, frustrated. I immediately regret it, reining myself in. Ava jolts, startled, the water splashing around us, and I blink, shocked myself. This was supposed to be a lovely evening, just me and Ava, nothing in the outside world violating our peace. Until Ava let the outside world in. That, I can’t control. Her questions. Her curiosity.
Fuck it.None of this is her fault. It’s mine. All mine.“I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Okay,” she whispers, unsure, making me feel rotten to my core. I cannot take my frustration out on her. Can’t be mad with her.
“My lovely lady is exhausted.” I hold her close, my arms like a vise around her shoulders, my mouth busy around her ear, apologizing some more. “Takeout?”
“You have a fridge full of food. It’s a waste.”
No, time lost cooking will be a waste. “Can you be bothered to cook?”
She ponders that for a few moments. I hope she reaches the correct answer. “Takeout.”
Good. “I’ll go and order while you wash your hair.” I get out of the tub, and it’s surprisingly easy to leave her in there. A grilling will do that.
I leave the bathroom, get the shampoo and conditioner I bought, and take it to her. Her gratitude is endearing. “Wear lace,” I whisper, kissing her on her forehead. Then I leave to order dinner.
14
I’m stuckbehind a pane of glass, walking up and down, feeling, searching for the end. But it’s never-ending. A constant barrier.
I am on one side.
And everyone I love is on the other.
Jake.
Rosie.
Carmichael.
They’re all there, within reach but not. The shield between me and them has no end. There’s no way to get to them. I reach out and hit my hand. I call out to them and my voice ricochets back off the glass. I start thumping it, yelling, desperate to get to them. But my hits make no noise to get their attention. I’m invisible to them.
“It’s just us now.”
I follow the voice. Lauren is standing with me. On the same side as I am. She looks up at me and smiles, reaching for my arm. Touching me. I look at my bicep, at her thin fingers. At the wedding band. She still wears it.
“Just us,” she muses, motioning to the glass, encouraging me to look.
“No,” I whisper. There’s another person with Jake, Rosie, and Carmichael. “No!”
Ava.
“No!” I lay into the glass, hitting it with everything I have, yelling, needing to get to the other side. The glass doesn’t give. It remains steadfast, letting me see my loves but not touch them. Get to them.
