Chapter 11 Mia #2
Quinn grimaced. “Well, I ran around in circles in the backyard, because I know Gray will strangle me if I go out running unattended.”
“Also,” Ava piped up as she placed bacon and a small white omelet in front of me, “it’s afternoon.”
“Oh.”
Quinn sat as Ava gave her the same and handed her a glass of the green juice Ash drank.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked Ava as I tackled my food.
“I did, that’s why you’re awake.”
“Oh.” Ava plated herself some food, and the three of us ate at different speeds in silence.
“You have a beautiful voice,” Quinn said to me as she pushed her empty plate away.
“Thanks. I only remember half of it,” I confessed. Drinking the coffee Ava gave me, I looked at Quinn. “I think it was the frozen margaritas that pushed us over.”
Quinn nodded, but her wince caused her to stop. “Yeah, I think we definitely overdid it.” She looked over at me almost . . . tentatively. “But hopefully, we can move on?”
“Huh?” I considered her and then Ava, whose head was down as she stared into her coffee cup. “Did something happen my brain hasn’t caught up to yet?” Memory loss wasn’t something I suffered from after drinking.
“You don’t remember?” Quinn asked, and I could see her assessing me as she waited.
“I remember singing, I remember tequila, and not much else. I’m a little bit fuzzy after ‘Beautiful.’” Again, I looked at Ava. “Why?”
“No reason.” Quinn brushed it off as she stood. “I’m going to shower and hopefully catch Gray before the game,” she said to us both.
“Is he playing?” I asked in surprise.
“Um, no. His hand’s still in a splint.” Quinn gave me a tight smile and left the kitchen.
Turning to Ava, I raised my hands. “What happened?”
“I thought blackouts were my thing?”
“Ava, come on, just tell me what I did.”
“Well, you sang,” she started. “Really well. You’re so much better every time I hear you.”
“You’re trying to soften me up,” I realized as I took another drink of coffee. “Just tell me, we were having a good time, no?”
“You were kind of mean to Quinn.”
“How?” I asked her in bewilderment.
“Well, you said some unpleasant things about Gray.” She looked away from my widening eyes. “And some kind of, well, harsh things about Quinn and Ash.”
“Ava?” I looked over my shoulder to where Quinn had left. “No! Why?”
“Look, I know you’re not usually like this, and it’s really unusual for you to be outright aggressive—”
“Aggressive?” I knew my eyes were wide with shock. “I’m not aggressive.”
“Well, you weren’t kind,” Ava said grimly.
“What did I say?” I asked fearfully.
“You said Gray was most likely a control freak and that he was the kind of guy you hear about years later in the NFL up on charges for domestic abuse.”
My hands flew to my mouth, and I felt sick for a completely different reason. “What would make me say that?”
“We were talking about sex — it was silly — and about dominant partners, and Quinn said she didn’t mind if the guy took control, and you said . . .”
“That her boyfriend was an abuser?” I felt the horror creep over me. “Oh, my goodness, I have to apologize.”
“There’s more.”
“Why?” I wailed. “Why wouldn’t you stop me?”
“Hey, you weren’t to be silenced,” Ava snapped before I saw her try to control her irritation. “You were really drunk.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“Well, the fact you know that, may help.” Ava ran her hands through her hair, shaking it out. “You said Ash was too good for Quinn.”
“Nooooo.” I dropped my head onto the counter. “Why do you remember?”
“I stopped drinking,” she answered dryly. “You were slamming them back like a woman on a mission.”
“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Well, at least we know how you feel about Ash,” Ava tried to lighten the mood.
It only made me feel smaller. “Why?” I croaked. “What could I possibly have said to make you think that?”
“The explicit detail we had to listen to about his, shall we say . . . size?” Ava was laughing at me now. “And also how well he uses it. Which then prompted you to ask Quinn which Devil she preferred.”
“No, no, no, no.” I stood and half walked to the door and then back again. “Tell me that isn’t true.”
“All true. Plus, you really did want us — well, it seemed that you wanted Quinn — to know how many times you had hooked up.”
My eyes were closed, and I knew I was going to cry. “I’m a terrible person.”
“You were drunk. Really drunk. And honestly, it hit you from nowhere. One moment, you were fine, kinda tipsy, the next you were little miss meany.” Ava’s voice softened. “I didn’t know you had feelings for him though.”
“I don’t,” I answered quickly.
“Mee, you verbally attacked his ex, you’ve slept with him more than I thought you had, and, dude . . . you went to sleep in his room. In his bed.”
“Well, I’m going to apologize to Quinn and promise her I’m not horrible and then follow her around until she forgives me.” I twisted my hands together. “I’ve slept with him more than once, but that’s in the past. And so I slept in his bed, that’s nothing. Well, I could hardly sleep with you.”
Ava tilted her head to the side as she listened to me.
“Okay, yes, apologize to Quinn. I wouldn’t follow her; Gray will send you packing.
I won’t tell you who you can sleep with, you’re old enough to know the consequences.
But I will tell you that you insisted you sleep in his bed, and I quote, because you wanted to be near to him. ”
I looked at her, unsure what to say, and she looked back, and then, with a sigh, she pointed at my chest.
“C’mon, MeeMoo, stop denying it, you went to sleep in his shirt for fuck’s sake.”
Looking down at myself, I noticed for the first time that I was wearing a Saints shirt that had the number eighty-seven on it.
Looking up at Ava, she nodded in affirmation. “You’re hooked on a Devil.”
“Oh my Lord.” I looked down at the shirt again. “This is horrible.”
Ava snorted out a laugh but tried to cover it. “Well, it could have been worse, he could have been here.”
I nodded as I looked around the room. “I better go grovel to Quinn.”
“Okay.” Ava smiled at me in sympathy.
I was almost out of the room when I pulled myself up short. Turning quickly, I ran to the sofa where we had been last night. “Ava! Where’s my phone?” I cried as I looked for it on the table and the cushions.
“Why?” Ava asked as she came to join me.
“It could have been worse?” I cried as I started throwing soft furnishings around the room in a frantic search. “Where the hell is my phone!”
“In Ash’s room probably,” Ava said as she grabbed me. “Why?”
I stood there frozen for a moment with my eyes squeezed shut. “I think I texted him.” I was definitely going to throw up.
“Who? Ash?” Ava’s eyes were as wide as mine. “Why?”
Cold, sobering realization dawned on me, and I looked at my best friend in true despair. “Oh, cracking hell, I totally texted him. Ava, I sexted the Devil.”