27. Ava
Chapter 27
Ava
“Mum?” I rush into the house. Please be home.
My chest feels like it’s on fire. This thing with Jet is physical attraction. I’ve never thought it was anything more. Even that night in Thailand when he was there when I needed someone to talk to, I knew it didn’t change anything. I knew the moment he put his suit back on and that side of him disappeared again.
He has so much to give but refuses to allow himself the chance of feeling something. He’s hiding behind grief, using it as an excuse. And I’m so mad at him for it. So mad and… so fucking miserable.
I can’t watch him hurt himself anymore, even if he doesn’t realize that’s what he’s doing.
“Mum?” I stride into the kitchen. Everything is as it was this morning, except for an empty bottle of wine on the counter .
A crash upstairs makes my heart pound, and I rush toward where it came from, taking the stairs two at a time.
“Mum?”
I run into her room just as she launches something through the air. It crashes into the wall, then falls onto the carpet.
“Useless,” she sobs. “All useless.”
“What’s wrong?”
She falls to her knees, tears streaming down her face. Crouching, I put my arm around her.
“What’s happened?”
“Too old.” Her voice wavers, and she blinks at me with bleary eyes. Her face has been scrubbed free of makeup, and her hair is flat, stuck in wet clumps to her cheeks. “They said I was too old.”
She picks up a jar, labeled anti-aging, and hurls it.
“Useless. All completely useless. I’ll need more surgery. Then maybe they’ll cast me instead of an ex-model in her twenties who hasn’t worked her ass off for a whole damn decade!”
Another jar follows the previous one.
“You didn’t get the role.”
“No.” Mum’s voice wavers before she takes a deep breath.
“I’m so sorry. You were too good for them, anyway. They probably hired someone cheaper to save money.”
She leans into my embrace and sniffs. “Thank you, darling. ”
“Why don’t I run you a bath? Make you a coffee, too,” I add, breathing in the scent of wine on her.
“You’re an angel.”
My fight with Jet is pushed to the back of my mind as I tend to her. She doesn’t drink the coffee I make. Instead, she has a bath and then announces she needs a nap. I check on her, but the wine knocks her out and she’s still sleeping hours later.
I pull out my phone and text Liv as I sit at the kitchen counter with a glass of mango juice, asking her to call me as soon as she can.
I scroll past the five missed calls from Jet and check my voicemail.
“Goddamn, Ava. Pick up the phone,” his deep voice hisses, sounding increasingly pissed off with each word before it cuts out.
I delete it, before dialing another number.
“Gramps?” My voice cracks as he answers.
“Ava. How are you, love? Let me just turn down the radio.”
His soothing, familiar voice makes my throat dry.
“I was just calling to see how you are. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. But you only called yesterday.” He chuckles.
“I know.” I smile, comfort wrapping around me like a warm duvet as I picture him in his house, sitting in his favorite chair as we talk.
“Not that this old man’s complaining, but shouldn’t you be out having fun with your mother?”
I wince. “She’s… not feeling well, actually. ”
“Oh no. Nothing serious, I hope?”
My gaze wanders to the empty wine bottle.
“Nothing a nap won’t fix.”
“What about Jet?” Gramps asks. “Are you still working on this thing with him?”
My heart sinks. Jet’s beyond help.
“No. He’s doing fine without me. I’ve been doing some sightseeing, instead. I walked around Beverly Hills the other day. I saw a dog wearing shoes.”
Gramps laughs and we fall into an easy conversation for the next twenty minutes. My phone beeps with a bunch of incoming calls. I lose count at number six.
After I say goodbye to Gramps, there’s a knock at the door.
“Miss Roberts?” The courier guy reads my name from the tablet in his hand.
“Yes.”
He hands me a large pink box with a champagne ribbon.
“Have a nice day.”
I stare at the box. It looks expensive. I toy with the silk ribbon, running the fabric between my fingers as I carry it inside and place it onto the living room floor, dropping to my knees in front of it. A beautiful scent I can’t place wafts from it as I open it. It even smells expensive.
Then it hits me.
It’s from the same store that Mum sent my sixteenth birthday gift from. My heart pangs with nostalgia. I wish she were awake. Maybe I should wait so she can watch me open it.
I sit for approximately three seconds before impatience and excitement get the better of me and I throw the lid off, my fingers tingling.
“Oh my god!” I squeal as I take out the bodysuit. It’s light as a feather, made from a sheer, fine mesh, with strands of pearls draped halfway down around the hips.
It’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.
I lift the thick manila envelope beneath it and take out the card.
This month’s card statement wouldn’t seem right without at least one line of yours on there.
I drop the card back into the box and shove the lid on, covering up the beautiful lingerie before I get too attached to something I’ll never keep now that I know it’s from him.
The arrogant bastard didn’t sign it. He knew I’d know it was from him at the mention of his credit card. Even the knowledge that I spent over a thousand dollars on lingerie in New York at his expense doesn’t make me feel any better.
And the one he’s sent me is so much nicer than any I own. It will have cost him a sickening amount, I’m sure.
I shove the box away just as there’s another knock at the door .
“Miss Roberts?” A different delivery man holds out a small box.
“That’s me.”
I take it inside, a frustrated huff leaves my chest as I rip it open, taking none of the care that I did with the first package. I lift the lid off the smaller white box inside, a tidal wave of memories hitting me all at once as I take out the perfume bottle shaped like a tiny globe encased in a flower. It’s the old design. The original bottle that’s been discontinued. My father bought it for me for my twelfth birthday. The scent was too grown up for me then. But he said he knew I’d like the bottle. The perfume inside ran out years ago.
I take the lid off and inhale the waterlily and tonka bean scent that I fell in love with as I got older.
There’s no card, but I know it’s from him.
I run my thumb over the carved glass as I feel the weight of the full bottle in my palm. “And you still think you have nothing to give,” I whisper. “Idiot.”
There’s a knock at the door again, and I rush to pull it open.
“Yes, I’m Miss Roberts,” I say to the delivery woman on the other side.
“Okay, have a great day,” she says as she hands me an envelope and a chilled glass bottle with beads of condensation running down the sides.
I scour the street for a delivery truck, but she hops back into a private car instead, then drives off.
I close the door and take the grapefruit juice into the kitchen, emptying out my mango juice from the glass to replace with the grapefruit. What am I doing? I abandon the glass and unscrew the bottle lid, drinking straight from the bottle instead.
I sigh as the fresh tang bursts across my tongue, invigorating and sharp.
I refuse to let Jet Grant ruin grapefruit juice for me.
Asshole.
I rip open the envelope and spit out the mouthful of juice.
“What?”
I swipe the back of my hand over my lips as I scan the contents. The letter is addressed to the new majority shareholder of the juice company.
Me.
“What the hell did you do?” I gape, my eyes zoning in on words like, unlimited supply and weekly deliveries .
There’s another knock at the door and I stomp to it, the letter in front of my face as I read the contents again.
“Yes, I’m Miss Roberts.” I stuff the letter onto the hallway table so I can take whatever thing is coming next.
“And I’m the Asshole, here to deliver an apology.”
I jerk back, my spine steeling itself as I look up into cool blue eyes.
Not an asshole, the asshole. He’s got that right at least.
Jet stares at me, his gaze so intense that my goosebumps get goosebumps.
“Ava,” he breathes.
I force my body to move, folding my arms as I stand firm in the doorway, blocking him from entering.
“What do you want? You got a unicorn out here in a box for me now?”
“Do you want one?” His eyes darken.
Sighing, I start to close the door.
Jet’s hand flattens against it with a deep, authoritative thud.
“I’m sorry.”
I say nothing and he curses, his eyes flashing with something. “I don’t like you ignoring me.”
I arch a brow.
“Please, Ava,” he grits, his fingers clenching against the wood.
“You don’t like me ignoring you because you aren’t in control? Hmm?”
I wait for him to say something. For some give. Just a tiny bit. A smidge of a confession about what I’ve known for a while.
That he can’t do it all alone.
A muscle ticks in his jaw and his nostrils flare with his deliberately slow breath.
“I don’t like you ignoring me,” he repeats.
“Tough shit. You’d better get used to it.” I try to close the door again, but his foot joins his hand, holding it open.
“Tell me you’ll forgive me. It doesn’t have to be right away. But tell me that I haven’t lost you,” he rasps .
I stare at him, at the way his brow creases, at the wild gleam in his eyes as his pupils dilate, at the way his Adam’s apple is bobbing in his throat like he’s struggling to swallow.
“Lost me?”
My hold on the door eases, but he doesn’t push it open. He just keeps his hand planted firmly on it. Watching me from beneath dark brows.
“I don’t want to lose you, Ava,” he whispers.
“You’d have to have me in the first place to lose me.”
His eyes pinch and the vein in his temple pulses. “You’re right. Excuse my error.”
He takes his foot from the door, and my heart sinks. Is that it? He’s going to give up?
He lets out a husky curse, his blue eyes capturing mine. “I shouldn’t have taken stress over my work issues out on you… It’s no excuse, but… it’s a mess. I’ve got to make decisions I don’t want to.”
I lean against the doorframe, regarding him carefully. He looks like Jet Grant, all suited, oozing masculinity and power from every pore like a goddamn king. He sounds like Jet Grant, his deep voice thick and gravelly, ready to bark out orders to poor, unsuspecting victims.
But something about him is decidedly different.
“Keep going,” I say, contemplating how long I should make him squirm.
“And I’m an asshole.”
I twirl my fingers in a ‘continue’ motion .
“And I…” He clears his throat. “I’ve avoided getting close to anyone since my mother died. Even before that, if I’m honest. I’ve never… Until you, I…”
“Because?”
“Because…” He looks into the distance up the street and curses, his jaw clenching.
“I don’t want anything from you,” I say. The lines at the corners of his eyes deepen as he turns back to me, confusion marring his handsome face. “But you’ve helped me. I got on a plane again because of you. Okay, it was because I couldn’t stand you and wanted to piss you off. But I did it. Because of you.”
“Ava—”
“Shut up and listen.”
He clamps his mouth shut with a grunt.
“I haven’t helped you with work. So let me help you with this. Because I know you think you’re happy with the world thinking you’re this impenetrable bastard. But I’ve seen you. I saw you in Thailand and what you did for me when I needed someone. I saw the way your friends greeted you when we went to Jay’s house. I saw the way his daughter looked at you like you hung the moon. I saw all of it, you stupid jerk. So if you think you’re unlovable, or that you shouldn’t share a piece of yourself with people because it could get taken from you one day, then you’re a fool.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth. “An asshole, a jerk, and a fool. Why would you want to help someone like that?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same question. ”
He opens his mouth.
“I haven’t finished,” I snap. “I’m doing it because there are worse things than losing someone who you’ve loved with every fiber of your being. Loved them so hard that their loss is like someone tearing your heart right out of your chest and then ripping it to shreds as you watch.”
“Ava.” He frowns and steps closer, but I hold a hand up to stop him.
“I watched my father die, Jet. Saw him suffer. Like you saw your mother be taken from you. When I was alone in that forest for days, do you know what gave me power? What gave me control ?”
His body tenses like it’s taking everything in him not to grab me and pull me into his arms.
“It was the love I had for Gramps, for Mum. I didn’t give up, because I still had them. I had people who cared about me. I had people I loved.” I look at him sadly. “You think being in control gives you the power not to get hurt. Not to feel loss again. But what’s it all for if you’re always doing it alone?”
He swallows, the sound of it cutting through the thick air between us.
I look at him and wait.
And wait.
Nothing.
It’s like I feared, he’s beyond help, too stubborn to admit he might be wrong about something for the first time in his life. The air seeps from between my lips in a hopeless sigh and I start to close the door .
“It’s you I want.”
His voice is so low, barely audible.
“What?”
“You.” He steps closer until the heat from his body is spilling into mine across the tiny gap between us.
My heart races as his eyes roam over my face, pausing on my lips, then coming up to hold my eyes.
“Don’t get me wrong. I still need control. I need to control you, to worship you, to function.”
I shudder.
“But it’s you I want, Ava. To talk to. To listen to. No one else.”
“I didn’t mean me, I just meant you shouldn’t shut yourself off from—”
“I want you.” His eyes pin me in place like a rabbit in front of a wolf. “No one else. Do you know how close I was to spanking you earlier for asking why I wasn’t having sex with someone else? Your ass should wear my handprint for a week just for asking me that.”
“I—”
“I can’t fucking control the way I feel about you. And I hate it.” He sucks in a deep breath, his chest expanding. “I’m not a guy who’ll give you white picket fences and a cozy life, Ava. I’m a guy who’ll threaten to liquidize a company if they don’t sell me all their shares in a juice brand I don’t even fucking like the taste of unless it’s mixed with berry lipstick.”
I choke on a laugh.
“I’m the kind of guy who’s been in your room when you’re out so I can smell your perfume. Who buys thousand-dollar lingerie for you, when all I’m picturing is ripping it off you so I can fuck you until the only name you know is mine. Until the world knows that you’re mine .”
“You’re deranged.”
“I’m fucking obsessed.”
His eyes drink me in like he’s playing out every filthy desire of his in his head right now.
“But I’ll ruin you, Firefly.”
My heart skips a beat. Firefly.
A glimpse of Thailand-Jet seeps into his gaze as he twirls a strand of my hair around his finger, murmuring the word, beautiful .
“You think I can’t handle you?” I whisper.
“I think you’ll hate me one day when you realize what I’ve taken from you.” He tucks the strand behind my ear and drops his hand to his side.
His voice carries a warning. He’s telling me to keep away, but all it’s doing is making my panties wet as I stare into his darkened gaze.
I want to hate him. I should tell him to take a long walk off a short jetty.
But I can’t.
I can only be overcome by a buzzing energy heating the blood in my veins at how magnetic his eyes are when they’re fixed on me like they are now. When they’re locked onto mine, looking inside me so deeply, like he sees all of my weaknesses, and they only make him want me more.
“You only take what I willingly give. ”
His nostrils flare. “For now, maybe. But there’ll come a day when you’ll understand that being with me, means having things stolen from you that were never mine to take. I shouldn’t even be here with you now. I should never have touched you. I’m a selfish asshole, Ava.”
I shake my head, not understanding a word of his bullshit. Because that’s what it is. Bullshit. Words he’s hiding behind to try and make me keep my distance.
Like Jet Grant would ever ruin me. Like anyone ever could. I saw my father die in front of me while I was stuck in my seat, unable to move. He reached for me, but by the time I got to him, he was already gone. The light vanished from his eyes with his final breath, leaving them empty, staring into space.
“If that’s what you think, then I want you to leave.” My heart rate picks up, the back of my neck heating like it’s on fire.
He makes no attempt to move, so I shove his chest.
“You heard me. Fuck off.”
Memories wash up over me like acid, assaulting me one by one. I’m unable to push them back down now that they’ve gathered momentum. They reach up and suffocate me.
The crunch of metal, breaking glass, screams, agonizing screams .
My fingers tingle, my palms getting clammy.
“Ava, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head, trying to push him away. But my hand is useless, falling limply against his muscular chest like a fish that’s been out of the water for too long.
“I’m fine.”
Black and white spots dance across my vision as the rest of my skin tingles, prickling like it’s being scratched at by all those passing branches again.
“Ava…”
Arms surround me as I drag in a splintered breath.
Empty eyes that haunt my dreams invade my consciousness.
“Stop,” I murmur, pushing at the solid warmth in front of me.
A masculine scent envelops me as I’m lifted from my feet.
Then everything goes black.