Chapter Fourteen #3
“They really are doing well, though.” Ava thought of their upcoming dinner—how she had almost forgotten it with everything going on.
“Mom’s getting ready to retire next year.
Pop won’t be too far behind. They want to move to Florida like every other old white couple does.
Mom’s collecting beach tchotchkes already. ”
“She’s the perfect beach bum. I’ve never seen her happier than when she was at the lake.”
He brought up so many things she hadn’t thought of in years.
Ava remembered their camping trips fondly.
Mira and Ari accompanied them the first few times, Ava’s parents packing them all into the van and erecting three tents for them by Percy Priest Lake.
There was one trip, though, where only Jay came along with Ava and her parents.
Three tents were put up then, too, but she fell asleep in Jay’s tent by accident.
They were both too worn out from the day and tried to stay up too late.
At fifteen, Ava never imagined that first night sleeping beside Jay would lead to countless others.
They woke up entangled, scrambling apart so fast Jay nearly collapsed the tent.
Ava managed to slip back to her own before her parents stirred, and the next evening, Jay was at her window, confessing he’d never slept so well.
So she let him in, and they slept together, originally keeping ample space between them—pillows even.
But with every sleepover, they moved closer and closer until there was no space, and they were suddenly sixteen and rolling around in the bed the same way they were now.
Ava’s phone buzzed—a Facetime call from Eleanor.
“I should get this. Make sure it’s not an emergency—well, more of an emergency than usual.”
Jay nodded and stood to walk into his closet. A t-shirt flew out moments later, landing on her face. She yanked it off with a scowl. “What was that for?”
He emerged, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, stark naked. “Your tits are out, doc. Figured you’d need a cover for the call.”
Ava pursed her lips and nodded. “Fair point.”
She threw the shirt over her head, a soft brown t-shirt with a collection of tattooed roses on the front. She’d always appreciated that Jay bought his shirts two sizes too big. Otherwise they’d never fit her.
“I’ll shower real quick,” he said, pointing toward the bathroom beside his closet. “Holler if you need me.”
She nodded, watching the door close behind him. As she answered the call, she tried to flatten her hair.
Eleanor’s face appeared on the screen, sipping from her giant purple water bottle in the break room. She put the bottle down with a flourish and said, “You sly little minx!”
Ava paused. “Um. Hi?”
“That guy from the bar—the accountant. It all makes sense now. No wonder you bailed on us. How have you never mentioned you know Jay Wyler?”
Eleanor propped her phone up on something so that she could swirl the spaghetti in her tupperware and take a bite.
Ava blinked a few times, getting her thoughts together. “How—”
“Girl, you’re in a USA Today article. I was doing my usual celebrity gossip scroll, and you are unmistakable. Why didn’t you tell me you know a rockstar?”
USA Today. She was in an article in USA Today.
Ava had to swallow twice before speaking. “We’re old friends. He was my next-door neighbor growing up.”
“Are you shitting me? The Wylers! Do you know Mira too? I like her. Her makeup tips are like gold for my skin tone. She’s a doll.”
“Yeah, I know Mira.” Her voice sounded far away to her own ears.
“Why keep it a secret?”
“It’s…complicated. What’d the article say?”
“Didn’t mention you. Just had a picture showing Jay out somewhere with the back of your very recognizable head.
Talked about him staying in the Nashville area while his brother’s hospitalized.
Speculated about the band’s future.” She took another bite of spaghetti.
“Was it a date? You looked dressed up. Spill!”
Ava’s mind raced. She wasn’t mentioned by name. Yet. But Eleanor recognized her immediately. How long before someone else did? How long before they dug into who she was, where she worked, or found her social media? Should she delete her profiles?
Eleanor squinted at the screen, gasping. “Oh my god. You’re with him now! An old friend, my left buttcheek.”
Ava glanced back, spotting Jay’s boxers on a pillow. “Those could be mine.”
“Oh no. You’re obvious as hell.” Eleanor laughed. “Good for you, girl. I’m actually happy for you. Just never knew your type was skinny boys in tight jeans.”
Ava’s cheeks burned, thankful the shower muffled any potential of Jay eavesdropping.
“His jeans aren’t as tight as they used to be.”
Eleanor cackled. “How long’s this been going on?”
“Just restarted. His brother is in the ICU so we ran into each other.”
“Oh shit! His brother’s here? I didn’t know.”
“Well, don’t go sharing the information, yeah?”
“My lips are sealed.” Eleanor picked up her phone, the camera at an unflattering angle under her chin before it went to black. Ava could hear her nails tapping against the screen. “Sent you the article. You look good with him.”
“The back of my head looks good with him?”
“You fit under his arm, and your hair is so bright against his dark vibe. It works.” Her face reappeared as Ava’s phone pinged. “I demand all of the details before I clock out tonight. I will trap you when you clock in.”
Ava forced a laugh. “Alright. Three questions max.”
“Does Henry know?”
A small twinge of guilt settled in her gut. “We…discussed it. It doesn’t matter though.”
Eleanor nodded. “He had his chance. And Jay is hot as fuck anyway.” She paused at Ava’s pursed lips. “What? He’s a literal rock god. I Googled him—there’s some photoshoots…girl. He’s got that brooding bad boy thing down.” She paused, clearly calculating something. “Can I see him?”
“He’s showering. No.”
“His place nice?”
“Alright. You’ve hit your quota,” Ava said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Eleanor blew a raspberry “Fine, but be prepared for the interrogation.”
Ava ended the call and immediately pulled up the article Eleanor had sent.
There she was. It only showed the back of her head, yes, but she was unmistakable—her hair a target against Jay’s dark jacket. The caption read: Wicked Smile frontman Jay Wyler spotted in Nashville amid brother’s hospitalization and band uncertainty.
She read through it quickly: speculation about the cause of Ari’s condition, whether the tour would continue, rumors of internal conflict.
And tucked in the middle: Wyler was seen leaving an upscale Nashville restaurant with an unidentified woman.
Sources say he’s staying local during this difficult time.
She was unidentified. For now.
Her hands shook slightly as she set the phone down. This was what Jay had tried to warn her about. This was the reality of his life: cameras, articles, speculation, and strangers analyzing every movement. Being with him meant it was her reality, too.
She’d known him before any of this existed. Back then she hadn’t thought much about what fame would actually mean—what sharing him with the world would actually cost.
The bathroom door opened, and Jay emerged with a towel around his waist, water droplets gleaming on his skin.
“Don’t you need to feed your cat?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Her voice came out flat.
He paused, picking up on her tone. “You okay?”
“Eleanor saw us. In an article. USA Today.”
His expression shifted immediately. “Fuck. A, I’m sorry.”
“You were right.” She looked at him. “Eleanor recognized me.”
Jay crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I can have my publicist reach out, see if we can keep your name out of it.”
“They didn’t have my name.”
“We can be more careful. I can—”
“Jay.” She touched his hand. “I told you last night I could handle it. I meant it. I’m just...I didn’t think it would happen this fast.”
He looked at her carefully. “Are you sure? Because if this is too much—”
“It’s okay. It’s…a lot to process.” She managed a smile. “But it’s easier now that I’m talking to you.”
“Want me to come with you then? To feed Binx, I mean. I can keep him company till you’re back in the morning.”
The offer settled something anxious in her chest. He was trying to be there for her, in whatever small ways he could.
“Yeah? Binx is a harsh judge of character, you know.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Jay laughed, kissing her forehead before pushing off the bed. “I’ll text David to pick us up soon.”
“Is he always on call?” Ava asked, watching him disappear into his closet. “No car of your own?”
“Haven’t driven in years.”
The meaning of his statement settled on her. She waited a few moments before she asked, “Because of the accident?”
He didn’t immediately answer. She could hear him rummaging through something in the closet, followed by the quick sound of a zipper closing.
“Driving still scares the hell out of me,” he finally admitted.
Ava sat with that. It was another piece of fallout from that night—another way their breakup had torn through both their lives and left wreckage neither of them had fully recovered from.
“Have you tried?” she asked when he emerged with his bag.
“Once. Got behind the wheel a little after rehab and panicked.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Felt like my chest was collapsing again. David pulled me out and drove me home. Haven’t tried since.”
“That’s PTSD, Jay.”
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, like it didn’t matter. “Add it to the list.”
“Have you talked to anyone about it? Your therapist?”
“We’ve touched on it.”
He sat on the bed, quiet for a moment. Then his gaze swept over her, taking in how she wore only his shirt, ending mid-thigh. A small smile tugged at his lips.
“Need to leave immediately?”
She recognized the deflection but decided to let it go.
“Not if you’ve got—” Her words dissolved into laughter as he dove toward her, rolling until she was pinned beneath him. Somehow, the towel around his waist disappeared in the process, and he leaned down to kiss her.
“You look entirely too good in my shirt on my bed.”
His damp hair flopped forward, and his eyes were alight with mischief.
“So me wearing your clothes is hot?”
“Mmm,” he breathed, placing featherlight kisses across her throat. “Used to love when you stole my hoodies. Something about it…”
His fingers lifted the hem of the t-shirt, his hand gently cupping her breast as her eyes fluttered shut. He kissed a path up her stomach, lifting the shirt as he went. But instead of pulling it off, his kisses shifted down.
When his mouth pressed between her thighs, she stopped thinking about articles, photographers, or anything else.