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Before she can protest, I lift Ava off the bed and carry her into the bathroom, smiling at the way she giggles excitedly. I set her down in the shower and turn it on, the warm water streaming over us. We wash each other, lathering our bodies with soap, kissing, touching, pressing: wet skin on skin. Our hands grasp and grope, and eventually, I’m pushing Ava back against the shower wall, driving my cock into her as the bathroom steams up. She’s so fucking tight, so soft, so deliciously curvy—I can’t keep my hands off her. I fuck her until her cries are echoing off the walls, mingling with the sound of rushing water.
Once we’re both clean and dry and orgasmed out, we head for the kitchen where Dinah is waiting for her breakfast.
“Good morning, baby,” Ava says, reaching down to stroke the purring kitty. “Are you hungry?”
While she occupies herself with feeding Dinah, I search the cupboards for something to cook. I smile when I see that they’re mostly full of chocolate, but I spy some eggs in the fridge along with all the other ingredients I need for French toast. I whip up a few slices and coat them with butter and syrup, setting them on the table in front of Ava.
“Thank you,” she says brightly. “I love French toast.”
“Even though it’s not chocolate?”
Ava chuckles, taking a bite of her breakfast. “Nothing beats chocolate, but French toast is pretty high up on the list.”
We eat in silence for a few moments. Ava is looking out of the window, watching the snow drift lazily to the ground like she’s deep in thought.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask.
Her eyes widen a little as she looks at me, like I just caught her doing something wrong. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Um, this is great by the way. Really good. The best French toast I’ve ever had. And I’ve eaten a lot of French toast, especially for breakfast, because that’s when it tastes the best, but it’s pretty good as a snack too—”
“Ava,” I cut in, raising an eyebrow. “I think you might be the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
She scoffs, her cheeks pinkening slightly. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before. I’m cursed with the babble gene.”
“So, tell me what’s really on your mind,” I say. “Without talking about French toast.”
Ava bites her lip, looking at me for a moment before her eyes flicker away nervously. “Well…don’t be mad, okay? But you remember yesterday when you were busy with the generator?” I nod, urging her onward. “Well, you said I could go anywhere in the house, and so…I did.”
I frown. “Okay. Why would I be mad about that? I told you it was fine.”
Ava sighs. “Well, while I was looking around, I found a room that I assume is your office. And there were all these pieces of paper scrunched up all over the place, like you’d been trying to write a letter but couldn’t find the words or something.” My mouth goes dry and I set down my French toast. “And, well, I have to admit, I’ve been kind of curious about it ever since. One of the pages said Dear Lincoln at the top, so I guess I just wondered…” She tapers off, looking at me nervously. “There’s just so much I don’t know about you, Nash, and I want to know it all. I want to know all about you.”
I nod. Her words are sweet, and I understand how she feels. But my stomach is sinking to the floor.
“If I tell you, I’m not sure you’ll want to be around me anymore.”
Ava frowns. “That’s not true, Nash. Whatever it is, you can trust me. I promise.”
I haven’t talked about this to anybody. Not ever. But if Ava wants to know everything about me, then I’m going to give her what she wants. I can’t deny this girl anything. Not even my biggest shame.
“Lincoln is my brother,” I say, leaning back in my chair with a sigh. “My younger brother. We were always really close. Not just brothers, but best friends too. But he cut me off ten years ago. Said he never wanted to see me again.”
Ava leans toward me over the table, her eyes sympathetic as she asks the obvious question. “Why?”
It takes me a moment to find the words.
“After my dad died,” I begin, “he left me his company in Denver. I was only twenty-three, but I moved out there and took over the business. Being a CEO…it changed me. I started obsessing over money. Always trying to make more, always trying to be the richest guy in the room, always needing the most expensive shit, the newest tech, whatever. Then, ten years ago, when I was thirty-two, my mom got sick. Cancer.” I swallow hard, my heart clenching. Ava reaches across the table and grabs my hand reassuringly, helping me continue. “She needed me. She and Lincoln, they both needed me. Linc was always here for her. He took care of her, drove her to her appointments, cooked and cleaned for her, even shaved his hair off to make her feel less self-conscious during chemo. Toward the end, he was even bathing her and taking her to the bathroom. Anything she needed.”
Fuck, this is even harder than I thought it would be.
“Anyway,” I say, pushing down the lump in my throat, “while my brother was busting his ass looking after my mom, I stayed in Denver. I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. I focused on the business, kept on making money, buying shit, living my life as if everything was fine. And whenever my brother asked me to help out, I told him that I was working hard for Mom.” I shake my head. “But it was just selfishness. And greed. And cowardice. I couldn’t face the fact that my mom was dying, so I ran away from it. And by the time I finally pulled my head out of my ass and realized what a selfish piece of shit I’d been…it was too late. She was gone. She died with my brother by her side. I was in a fucking showroom browsing for a new car, and I didn’t see all the missed calls until it was too late.”
I feel sick to my stomach when I remember that day. The way my brother sounded when he finally got through to me and told me the news. The hurt in his voice. The anger. The grief.
“It was only then that I realized what I’d done,” I continue, unable to meet Ava’s gaze. “I prioritized money over my dying mother. I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most. And I will never forgive myself for that. Lincoln cut me off right after the funeral. It was the least I deserved. He left to join the military and never spoke to me again.”
Ava’s eyes are watery as she asks, “And then you sold the business.”
I nod. “I sold it and tried to give all the money to Linc. But he wouldn’t accept it. He said he wouldn’t take my guilt money. So, I donated it instead.”
