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What a fucking night.
Certainly not a New Year’s Eve I’ll ever forget.
All I wanted yesterday was one night off where I wasn’t responsible for anyone else’s surroundings or safety, but no. Whoever is targeting Ava decided to make a big splash.
Hardly sleeping the past few hours, I’d given up on the endeavor entirely. I now lay on my sofa, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what happens next. How do I get Ava safely back to her place without her protesting the whole time that she didn’t need ababysitter—when clearly she did?
Movement in the kitchen snaps me to attention.
This duplex is personally secured by yours truly, and with cameras stationed everywhere and several weapons scattered throughout my home, a son of a bitch would have to be especially stupid to try me here.
The Keurig kicks on, and I realize Ava is up already and making herself at home. She must have walked right past me, not realizing I was awake. I turn towards the kitchen and thegood morningI planned to utter catches in my throat.
Ava’s pert ass is the first thing I see.
While the coffee is dispensing, she’s made her way over to my fridge. She slides items out of the way, while her perfect, pert backside is in my direct line of sight. The old Yankees T-shirt has shrunk in the many wash cycles it’s been through. Much too short for me to wear anymore, but I couldn’t bear to part with it after Henry’s passing.
The old shirt looks better on Ava than it does on me. That’s for sure.
I clear my throat, not wanting to startle her.
“Ava—”
She lets out a loud shriek at the sound of my voice. She grabs the fridge door and tries tucking herself behind it. Ava possesses too many long limbs for this maneuver to be effective.
“Brandon, you scared me!”
Clearly, based on how red her face is, I don’t voice what I’m thinking.
“You are so quiet. I thought you were asleep when I passed the couch.”
“I’ve been up for at least a half hour,” I say, glancing at the time on my phone and confirming that it’s 7:30.
Ava releases a frustrated breath. “Well, while I’m in the fridge, could you please tell me where the coffee creamer is?”
“No, actually, I always drink it black.”
“Of course you do,” Ava says. “Well, my cheeks are freezing here. Could you bring me something to cover my ass?”
I laugh this time. “I’ll get you something. In my defense, I thought you’d still be sleeping. I have Bree bringing you something to wear. Should be here in less than an hour.”
Ava nods at my words. “Great, but in the meantime, freezing cheeks!”
I take the stairs two at a time and grab clean gym shorts with a drawstring so Ava can tighten the waist. Making my way back to the kitchen, I stand back away from the partially opened door and reach around, holding the shorts out for Ava to grab.
“I’m heading back to the living room. I won’t see a thing,” I say, returning to the sofa, my back turned to Ava.
A few seconds of rustling material and I hear the refrigerator door close.
Ava comes to join me on the sofa, grabbing the fleece blanket on the armrest and wrapping herself in it. It’s odd having her in my space. Since last night, her scent follows me. The previous times when Ava and I met socially always included Asher. Not since she was in culinary school when I lived nearby in Manhattan have we spent so much time in each other’s company. Now, she’s tucked up on the sofa, looking like she belongs here.
“Who is Bree?”
I look over at Ava who is not quite pouting, but she doesn’t seem to like the idea of Bree coming over. If I didn’t know better, I would think Ava was jealous.
I shake my head to clear it. The idea of Ava being jealous is preposterous. Right?
Not that I care, even if she was.
