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She was smirking to herself as she left the house. A smirk that rapidly disappeared as she walked up Ava’s garden path and got an attack of the nerves.
She was shaking, her heart was in her mouth, and she was debating whether or not she really had the gall to ring the doorbell when she saw movement in the bushes by the door. She bent down and Rosie’s beady yellow eyes looked back at her.
“Rosie, get out of here, go on, scat. Get home,” she hissed.
Rosie narrowed her eyes, then turned and began to saunter back next door. Hope was watching her go when the front door opened.
“In my country we tend to ring the bell or at least knock on the door,” Ava said. “It does rather take some of the mystery out of proceedings, but then, it prevents visitors from having to stand on the doorstep for hours at a time.”
Hope turned with an acid comment already on her tongue and stalled when she saw Ava.
She’d showered, her hair was still slightly damp, pushed back off her face by her glasses. A long, white shirt billowed over leggings, a cloud of perfume enveloped her. Her eyes were delicately smudged with eyeliner and there was a hint of color on her lips, but other than that she was bare of makeup.
And she was about the most breathtaking woman that Hope had ever seen. Breathtaking enough that Hope found that she actually literally couldn’t take a breath. Like there was a chance of her being able to touch this, kiss this, heaven forbid, bed this goddess.
“Jesus,” said Ava. “I’d ask if the cat got your tongue, but I’ve just seen the cat and she looked empty-handed. And you look like you’re about to choke. Maybe you should come in?”
Hope nodded and stepped over the threshold just as she managed to gulp a mouthful of oxygen into her lungs. Then she started coughing so hard that Ava had to pound her back. Not exactly the contact she was hoping for.
“And I thought I was nervous.” Ava stood back as Hope finally straightened up.
“You’re nervous?” Hope asked, grateful for every breath.
“Aren’t you?”
Hope nodded.
“Living room?”
Hope nodded again.
They went into the sparsely decorated living room and it occurred to Hope that she’d never been in this house before, even if it was right next door. And then it occurred to her that maybe she shouldn’t be here at all. Maybe Ava had asked her out of… what? Out of peer pressure? Like they were sixteen?
Or maybe because she thought she was expected to. Hope’s stomach wavered a little and she sat on the very edge of the minimalist black couch.
Ava sat down at the opposite end of the couch. “I’ve got wine,” she said.
“Um, I’m fine,” said Hope, afraid now that if Ava got up she might not come back.
Ava sighed. “This is ridiculous, isn’t it?”
Hope nodded for the third time. “A bit.”
“We’re both adults.”
“And we don’t have to do anything,” Hope said hurriedly. “I mean, we can have a drink maybe, talk, I don’t want you to think that there are any expectations here.”
Ava bit her lip and Hope nearly passed out again. “But there are, aren’t there? Expectations, I mean. Unless… unless you don’t have any?”
“If you’re asking whether I shaved my legs, then the answer is yes,” Hope said rather more glibly than she’d intended.
“I did too,” admitted Ava. She looked down at her hands. “But I find that now that I’ve got you here, I don’t really know what to do with you. I mean how to start. It’s been a very, very long time since I’ve been in this position.”
“You’re not the only one,” Hope said. She crossed her legs. This was nothing, just a meeting with a friend, she told herself. Take the pressure off. “Maybe I should get us that wine,” she said, standing up.
“I don’t think I asked you here for wine,” Ava said in a small voice.
Hope rolled her eyes. “Then why did you invite me here?”
