Chapter 17
seventeen
GAGE
When I wake up the next morning, I honestly expect to be alone. But Ava is curled up on the other side of the bed when I open my eyes five minutes before my alarm.
I surprised myself last night when I gave her a shirt after our shower and pulled her back into bed with me instead of letting her change into her clothes and leave like she tried to. But then again, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised with all the thoughts racing through my head. All the worst-case scenarios. All the ways I could help if she just told me everything.
I may not want a serious relationship, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be Ava’s friend. That doesn’t mean I can’t support her.
I grab my phone from the nightstand, turning my alarm off so it won’t wake her. Instead of getting out of bed, I roll to my side, giving myself these five minutes to study Ava.
She’s on her side, facing me—her face perfectly at peace, not a single furrow in sight, no stress weighing her down.
She’s breathtaking.
After she told me about her parents and I worshiped her body, we ended up back in my kitchen looking for something sweet to eat. While I didn’t have anything immediately on hand, Ava discovered I had the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies—something I probably have my mother or sister to thank for. She pulled them out and immediately began mixing them together while I sat at the kitchen island and watched.
We didn’t talk about her parents again, but we talked about practically everything else. We laughed and had fun, exactly like she wanted.
And while we waited for the cookies to bake, she decided it was her turn for a taste.
Sex with Ava is out of this world. More intense and vibrant than anything I’ve experienced before. But a blow job from Ava might surpass even that.
The feel of her lips wrapped around me, her hand at the base of my shaft, the sight of her on her knees, and her hand playing with her clit had me coming down her throat faster than I ever had.
Ava Day might just be my undoing.
She shifts in her sleep, bringing me back to the present, reminding me that I need to get ready for work. I climb out of bed quietly, grab my clothes from the closet, and head to the bathroom to get myself ready.
Ava is just starting to wake up as I step out of the bathroom.
“Hey,” I say softly, coming around the bed and sitting on the edge by her.
“You have a shift?” Her voice is groggy and deep, still filled with sleep.
“Yeah, but you don’t need to rush out. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
She tried to fight me when I gave her a shirt to sleep in last night, claiming she needed to get home so Declan didn’t find out about us. But she was quick to cave once she revealed that Declan rarely slept at home.
“No, I’ll get up. I need to be in court later today for Scott’s preliminary hearing.”
Ava leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before getting out of bed and moving into the bathroom. She leaves the door cracked, and I see her washing her hands and face before brushing her teeth with the spare toothbrush I gave her last night.
I watch her from the foot of the bed, transfixed by how natural she looks there—how domestic it all seems. And I realize I like it.
“The hearing’s today?” I ask, trying not to think about how much I like her in my space.
“Yeah, early this afternoon,” she says as she comes back into the room. Shimmying into her panties and jeans before taking my borrowed shirt off. Her eyes bounce around the floor, a puzzled look crossing her face as she searches for her bra.
“Lampshade,” I say, pointing to where it is in the corner, a smirk forming on my lips.
“I’m not going to ask.” She plucks it from where it is and puts it on before doing the same with her sweater. “It should be a relatively easy day. It’s just a preliminary hearing to determine next steps, which I expect to be mediation.” Ava sits on the bed next to me, slipping her socks onto her feet then her boots. “Most judges want parents to agree to their own custody arrangements. It’s less stressful for the kids, and really everyone involved.” She tilts her head. “Most of the time.”
“That makes sense.” I stand from the bed, offering her a hand before we make our way to the kitchen. “Coffee before you go?” I ask, walking to the machine.
“You have time?” Ava pauses by the edge of the island counter.
“Yeah, I’ve got about forty-five minutes before I need to be at the station.”
“Coffee would be great.” She smiles as she takes a seat at the counter, watching me move around the kitchen.
I glance over and notice her eyebrows are pinched, a look of concentration on her face. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just—I forgot to mention that I’m going out of town on Sunday.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, studying the counter in front of her.
“Okay.” I step to the island counter, standing across from her. “It seems like there’s more you want to say.”
She lifts her head, making eye contact with me. “I’m going to see my parents.”
I’m shocked by that news, especially after what she shared with me last night, but I keep my face neutral, my eyes on hers, waiting for her to continue. I know she’ll tell me more. She just needs to be ready to do it.
“I’ll only be there for about a week." She shrugs. “My dad called me a few days ago.” Her eyes go back to studying the counter. “I’ve been ignoring his calls since before I got here, and he finally left a voicemail. He sounded regretful, so when he called again I answered.”
“Ava, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” I move back to the coffee pot, trying to give her space to decide what she wants to share. I pour two cups, placing one in front of her before grabbing the sugar and creamer and placing them on the counter where she can reach.
“I know. But I feel like you deserve to know after what I told you last night.” She grabs the creamer, pouring a small amount into her cup. “He apologized for how my mother has been speaking to me and for not speaking up sooner to stop her. I don’t know if I believe him, but I need to go back to Boston regardless to pack my things.” She lifts her eyes, looking back at me. “And while I might be furious with both of them, I don’t need to stoop to their level, so they deserve to hear directly from me that I’m moving here.”
“Okay.” I offer her a small smile.
“That’s it?” she asks a little incredulously.
I shrug. There’s plenty I could say, most of which is arguing why Ava doesn’t need to go home right now to talk to her parents. Christmas is next week, and she should be spending it here with people who care about her.
“Is Declan going with you?” I ask. If he were going with her, I might understand her decision better. Declan normally goes back to Harborview for the major holidays, but from my understanding, he does it because Ava is there. This year is different, though. Now he has Quinn, someone I know he feels very deeply for, and I can’t imagine he’ll want to spend the holiday away from her.
“No, he’s staying here this year.” She tucks that piece of hair behind her ear, glancing down at the counter, but when she lifts her eyes, they’re filled with unshed tears. “It’s unlikely Scott will be here next year. Declan wants to be here…” Her voice trails off, leaving the rest unsaid. And it doesn’t need to be. No one in this town will be the same after Scott is gone, but the people closest to him will be devastated.
I move around the island counter, spinning her seat to face me. Her legs open, allowing me to step between them—and I do, without hesitation—pulling her into a hug.
With her arms around my waist and her head against my chest, I press a light kiss to the top of her head. I want to convince her that she should stay here for the same reason as Declan, but I have a feeling this decision was already a difficult one for her. I won’t make it worse.
“I’ll be here when you get home,” I tell her softly.
I noticed when she spoke of going to see her parents she never once called it home, and part of me hopes that’s because she’s already starting to think of Ashford Falls as home.
Her arms around me tighten for a moment before she pulls back just enough that she can look up at me. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I lift one hand, tucking that wayward piece of hair behind her ear.
“I know you want to convince me to stay here, but thank you for respecting my decision.”
“You’re a grown adult, Ava, and you don’t owe me anything. I’m here to support you however I can. That’s what I meant when I offered you some extra strength.” I pause and study her. “I’ll be here when you get home.”
I hope, more than anything, this trip will be exactly what she wants and needs it to be. But based on the very little I know about her parents, I have a feeling it won’t be. Maybe this will give her the clarity she needs to really move on from whatever happened before she got here.
As long as there’s a lesson learned, then even the hard situations are worth moving through.
I’m sitting at the counter at The Diner for lunch, just lifting the burger to my mouth for a bite, when my parents plop into the seats on either side of me. I freeze, looking between them. “Well”—I put the burger back on the plate and wipe my hands on my napkin—“this can’t be good for me.”
“Now why would you say that?” my mom asks, her tone filled with sarcasm.
“The last time you two looked at me like this was when I told you I was going to the police academy.”
They’d been supportive but worried about me. They’d seen my mental state and were concerned I was trying to replace what I had in the military without actually addressing my feelings. They feared I would put myself in an unsafe situation—and they hadn’t been entirely wrong. That conversation with them made me pause and think about my why. I needed that push, that reminder that I still had a life worth pursuing and finding my new purpose.
That knowledge didn’t make me any less nervous about this conversation with them. And I had no idea what I’d done to warrant the looks on their faces.
“I want to know why you haven’t introduced me to Ava, especially if you two are having dinner with your father. I thought you loved me.” There’s a twinkle in her eye, and she can’t keep her face straight for long. The tension leaves my body and my shoulders fall at the realization this isn’t serious.
I look at my dad, noting the smirk on his lips. He’s done this on purpose. That dinner at Murphy’s might have only been the second time Ava and I had seen each other, but my interest in her had already been piqued, and I know my dad noticed.
I look back at my mom. “Dad’s just stirring the pot. There’s nothing going on with Ava. We’re friends.” I make sure I don’t look away from her. If my eyes shift even the smallest amount, she’ll know I’m lying. Not that I like lying to her—or my dad. I tell them everything, but having this conversation at The Diner will surely result in someone overhearing, and I won’t tempt fate.
“So you three didn’t have dinner together over a month ago?” she asks.
“Yes, we did, but only because Dad invited her when he saw me talking to her. After he showed up late, I might add.”
I hear Dad scoff, but Mom asks another question before he can say anything.
“And you haven’t been seen having dinner together every Thursday night?”
“Don’t you regularly have dinner with Dad?” I counter.
“Well, that’s different.” She waves me off, picking up a menu—something I’ve never seen her do in my entire life.
My eyes move to Dad, seeing him mess with the napkin holder in front of him, avoiding eye contact. They’re hiding something, and in my gut, I know what it is.
“No,” I say in disbelief, practically whispering. “You two are back together?”
“What? Of course not.” This from my dad, who sits up straight in his seat, bringing his eyes to mine. But he’s not able to hold it long. A sure sign he’s lying.
My head whips to my mother, who’s trying desperately—and failing—to hold in a smile.
“How long?” I ask.
“Gage—” Dad tries to cut in.
“No. We don’t lie to each other.”
“Right.” Mom jumps on that, bringing the conversation back to Ava. “We don’t, so why are you lying about Ava?”
“Nope, you first. How long has this been going on?” I turn back to my dad. “I thought you were seeing that vet a few towns over?”
“Uh, no.” His eyes shift over my shoulder to my mom before coming back to me. “I only went on one date with her.”
“But you let me think you’ve been dating her for what, six months now?”
He squints, thinking about how to respond to that and probably trying to decide if I’m unhappy about this new development.
Well, he can join the club because I have no idea how I feel about this. I know most kids would probably be ecstatic that their parents are back together, but I’m not a child, and I haven’t been for a very long time. I’ve experienced a lot of life. Seen both of them in and out of different relationships. I watched them fight hard for the friendship they have today, and I guess if I’m honest with myself, I’m nervous about what happens when this one fails.
“Gage, what your father and I do isn’t really any of your business,” Mom says gently, placing her hand on my forearm and bringing my focus back to her.
I lift an eyebrow. “Really? My parents getting back together doesn’t impact me?” I keep my voice quiet. I don’t know if I would say I’m angry, but I’m definitely hurt.
“That’s not what she said,” Dad interjects. “Look”—his eyes bounce to Mom and right back to me—“if we’re being honest?—”
“Nick,” Mom interrupts.
“Laura.” Dad looks at her over my shoulder, the two of them having a silent conversation. When his eyes come back to me, I see it—the love and devotion in his eyes. In that moment, I realize Dad has always had that glimmer in his eyes when he looks at her. It’s never gone anywhere, even when he was dating or married to someone else.
“Wow.” It comes out as more of a breath than anything else. I turn to look at my mom, trying to read her eyes. She’s always been a little harder for me to read, but I see it in her eyes too—how serious and real her feelings are. “Okay.” I push my plate away from me, my appetite now gone.
“Gage.” Mom reaches for me, but I stand from my seat, stopping her in her tracks.
“No.” I meet her eyes. “You have to give me time to digest this. This clearly isn’t new and is quite serious, but I just found out, and I deserve to figure out what I’m feeling without input from you right now.”
“You’re right,” Dad says, reaching for Mom’s hand, offering her comfort as her eyes fill with tears. “But we also deserve a chance to explain.”
“And I promise I’ll let you, but not right now.” I gesture around us. No one in The Diner is paying us any attention. It’s not out of the norm for me to have lunch with both of my parents, but if we keep talking about this, I have a feeling we’ll draw some attention.
I reach for my wallet but stop when Dad shakes his head. “We’ll take care of it.”
I look between them again, really studying them. I don’t know what I’m feeling other than hurt, but they’re my parents, and I love them.
So I lean forward, placing a kiss to my mom’s cheek, and squeeze my dad’s shoulder before turning to leave The Diner.