Chapter 23 Ava
TWENTY-THREE
AVA
“What the fuck!”
The roar of a wild animal speaking and the jostling of my body as the pillow beneath me is ripped from under my head has me flying up in bed, clutching the blanket to my chest. My eyes barely have a second to register what’s going on in front of me before the first punch is thrown.
“Dad!” I scream, which only elicits a second furious roar from him.
Pounding footsteps echo behind the chaos. And then I’m staring at the stunned matching expressions of my brothers.
Jesus fucking christ, this couldn’t get any damn worse.
Except I’m fucking wrong, because it’s in that moment I realize how butt naked I am, with the thin blanket barely doing anything to cover my body. I wrap it around myself anyway, before fumbling out of bed, and somehow managing to make it upright.
With one hand firmly in place to keep the makeshift toga from falling to the floor, I rush toward the two men, acting as if they’re back in their college years—ironic.
“Enough!” I scream over their yelling match, trying to push myself between them.
Scott’s firm grip wraps around my hips as he shoves me behind him, but that only seems to pour gasoline on my father’s reaction.
“Get your fucking hands off her. I trusted you with her all these years. You sick fucking pervert.”
I’ve never heard my father spit such vile things in my life, but Scott takes them calmly, not trying to argue back against a man blinded by rage.
That’s not me. I can’t just stand here and let this happen.
“Stop it!” I yank my arm free from Scott’s hold and scoot around his mountainous frame. “You’re acting as if he’s some criminal. I’m twenty years old, Dad. It’s not exactly illegal for us to be together.”
“You want me to believe this just started? Come on, Ava, I’m no fool.”
“You’re sure as hell acting like it right now!”
My mother’s light voice filters through the ringing in my ears. “Maybe we should take a step back. Let our daughter at least get dressed. And then we can discuss this.”
My brothers turn on their heels, hightailing it away from the scene.
They’re probably loving the fact that their perfect sister is being cast from her throne all these years later.
But my Dad doesn’t budge. His face glows blotchy red with fury, and his hands are fisted into tight balls, the knuckles as white as the ground outside.
“Get the hell out of my house. You’re fucking dead to me.” His fatal words hit before he slams my bedroom door, leaving Scott and me in stunned silence.
“Fuck,” Scott groans, wiping his hand across his face and through his beard. “That is not how I intended to tell your father about us.”
His words take a second for me to digest. “You… you were going to tell him?”
Even in the midst of the heaviness still pushing in against us with the slamming and raised voices off in the house, his eyes meet mine, and the smirk that fills my stomach with butterflies steals all my attention.
“I told you we weren’t done. Tell me right now, this was just a lapse in judgment for you, that you don’t feel it between us. Because if that’s the case, I’ll pack my bags, hit the road, and never look back. But know, for me, Ava. You’re it, baby. Even without our secrets. It’s you.”
“Scott, I…” his name puffs from my lips on a whisper, and I stall on what to say next.
An unsure hand clasps the back of my neck, pulling my forehead to his lips for a gentle kiss.
“It’s fine,” he says, with a humorless chuckle, eyes transfixed on mine. “I knew I was shooting for the stars with you.”
His fingers ghost across my throat before his back is turned and he’s hauling on his jeans. I watch in disbelief, my mind racing.
I thought this was just a fuck up on his part.
A moment I’d look back on in ten years and wonder if it was just my imagination playing tricks on me.
I never expected anything else from this man.
He might not be the polished version of himself I once knew, but his life’s still in order.
Mine’s a mess. I don’t know what I’m doing with it.
Shit, there are days I barely remember to feed myself when life gets too busy.
“Why? How could you want to be with me? I’m a mess, and you don’t even know the half of it.”
His shoulders stiffen, and his head shakes.
See, I wasn’t wrong. He gets it now.
Before I can lay the rest of my concerns at his feet, he’s on me. His strong arm wrapped tight around my waist, my heaving chest pushed firmly against his hard one. He doesn’t demand it, but my eyes lock with his because he’s just that damn enthralling.
“Why?” He returns my question. “How could you want to be with me, Ava? An old man set in his ways, ready to disconnect from the grind of the corporate world. It’s selfish of me. I fucking know it, but I don’t seem to care enough to let you go, either.”
We both know this is a terrible idea that makes no sense on paper. But he’s right, I don’t care.
“This is going to be messy.”
“We’ll get through it.”
“He may never forgive you.”
“Maybe not, but you’re worth the loss.”
Every new statement out of his mouth makes it harder to argue. It only solidifies the plan slotting into place in my head.
“Let me get dressed. My bags are already packed.”
“You should stay. Enjoy the—”
I cut him off before he can finish, “I’m not staying here after that. And last I checked, you owe me,” I add with a wicked grin.
In a flash, the blanket’s ripped from my body, and goosebumps erupt across my skin. His hand comes down hard and fast against my ass.
“Get dressed, you little minx, before he comes back in here to kill me for the sounds coming out of this room.”
My laughter falls free, and Scott lets go of my body, moving to put his boots on. I dress in record speed, finding our bags in the hall where I’d left them abandoned.
Yesterday plays over in my mind like a sick movie I never want to watch again. The blur of things I never thought I’d be able to do and don’t know how I’ll get over, sits like a stone in my stomach.
Scott’s rough voice whispers in my ear, “You ready for this?”
I give his reassuring hand a quick squeeze in answer as we step out of the hall. All eyes swing in our direction at the sound of our footsteps.
“We’re leaving,” I announce, meeting my father’s heated gaze, hoping another altercation isn’t on the brink of breaking out.
He shifts, turning his back to us, gaze disappearing out the kitchen window. He’s ramrod straight, ears tinged red. He’s still fuming, refusing to acknowledge me. This might not just be the end of their friendship; it might be the end of our relationship, too.
Is that really what I want?
My mom’s sniffles shatter the stilted silence. Scott moves slowly, taking my bag from me and dropping a quick kiss to my temple as her body shifts closer to us.
“I’ll be outside,” he whispers, calming the storm of emotion raging in my chest.
Her arms wrap tight around my shoulders, pulling me in close. This used to be my safe space, the place where nothing could go wrong. Now, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that way again.
“I love you. He’s hurt and scared. Let him calm down, and then we can talk.”
I cling to the woman who’s always made my day better and feel the heavy weight of tears on my lash line. “Thanks, Mom. I love you too.” I sniffle. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, but he’s…” I don’t know how to finish that thought when I’m still wrapping my head around it myself, so I don’t.
She gives me another quick squeeze and pulls away. With a single nod to my brothers, who seem a little shellshocked, I make for the front door, but pause on the threshold.
Scott’s got the hood of his Jeep propped open, a look of pure determination on his handsome face. Give him a little smudge of grease on his brow and a dirty handkerchief for his hands, and he’d make the perfect ad to sell a car.
Yep, I’m definitely making the right decision.
“Car troubles, handsome?” I ask as I sidle up next to him.
“Forgot about the fucking battery, but as long as you’re good coming back for yours, we should be all set.”
“Whatever gets me out of here.”
The snow’s melted enough to free the tires, and no one’s parked behind him. One crank on the ignition and the car starts right up. The engine’s rumble is music to my ears.
We slow around the final bend of the driveway and pull onto the plowed county road.
The tick of snow tires breaks through the melody of Christmas tunes on the radio.
I slept like the dead—funnily enough—last night.
Though, it must not have been sufficient, because my eyes start to drift closed when a warm hand lands on my thigh, jolting them open.
“Oh, I don’t think so, baby. We’ve got hours between us and my place, and I think it’s time you start paying for that bratty little mouth of yours.”
A flannel blanket lands in my lap a second later.
“Pants off, Ava. It’s time I had a little fun.”