Chapter Sixteen
Jay’s hands covered Ava’s eyes the whole ride, which had done nothing to help her balance through the last five minutes of rough terrain.
The Lincoln lurched over what felt like gravel, then dirt, and Ava had gripped whatever she could reach—Jay’s knee, the door handle—while he laughed and kept asking if she was peeking.
Then the car had stopped, and getting out with his hands clamped over her face was proving to be its own disaster.
Maybe she was a bit too hasty when agreeing to a surprise birthday date.
“I’m gonna fall,” she laughed, blindly stretching her foot out of the car.
There was a grin in Jay’s voice when he said, “You’ll fall on me so you’re fine.”
When her foot touched the ground, she slowly stretched her other leg out to stand and fell into Jay. His chuckle vibrated against her. “You good?”
“I think so.”
He shuffled behind her, readjusting so his hands still covered her eyes. A cool breeze grazed her neck, and she heard water running in the distance.
“Okay. Walk a few steps forward for me.”
They moved in sync, but when Ava stopped, Jay’s foot clipped hers, and he stumbled into her this time. She laughed, leaning back against him. “Can you stop before we kill each other?”
A memory surfaced of Jay doing this years ago: driving her out to Radnor Lake and making her hike for twenty minutes.
He’d covered her eyes toward the end of their journey then, too, dropping them to reveal a scenic viewing platform he somehow arranged to be decorated with flowers, a blanket, and a basket of snacks.
There was always “somebody who knew somebody” to make that kind of stuff happen for him.
“Three, two…”
His hands fell away, and Ava blinked against the sudden brightness.
They stood in an RV park by the lake. A black and brown RV dominated the lot in front of them, its canopy extended to create a makeshift patio.
Two wooden chairs circled a fire pit, and a picnic table sat a few yards away in a patch of grass.
String lights hung from the canopy, casting a warm glow over the cozy setup.
Ava beamed. “Is this because we talked about camping?”
“Well, this is more…what is it, glamping?” Jay’s arm slid around her waist, his grip a touch heavier than usual. “We both deserve to get away from reality for a night.”
“Y’all need me to get ya anything before I head out?” David called, Ava’s overnight bag slung over his shoulder.
“We’re good.” Jay peeled himself away from her and walked over to take the bright yellow bag. It was almost comical against his all-black attire. “See you tomorrow?”
“Just say when.” David’s eyes lingered on Jay a beat. Jay didn’t meet his gaze, busying himself with adjusting the bag strap. Eventually, David shifted his attention to Ava, his expression softening. “Happy birthday, darlin’.”
“Thank you,” Ava called, smiling back.
David hesitated before pulling out his phone. “Ava, you got my number, right? In case you need anything tonight?”
Ava blinked, surprised. “Oh—no. I don’t think so?”
He rattled off the digits while she saved them. Something about the way he brought it up made her stomach flutter with unease, but then Jay was taking her hand and they were waving goodbye.
Jay led her up the few stairs that took them into the RV.
A vase of sunflowers drew Ava to the kitchen, and she let go of Jay’s hand to inspect it.
Alongside the flowers sat a stack of cards, a small velvet box, and the cross-stitch hoop she’d admired in his condo—the one that read take your fucking meds.
She turned, momentarily speechless. He’d done all of this.
Jay set her bag down, offering her a small, tired smile. “There’s cake in the fridge, too.”
Still not having the words, Ava smiled.
He sauntered over and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Open the box first.”
She obliged, pulling the ribbon on the box and opening it to reveal an emerald pendant nestled in cream silk, the gold chain delicate and unmistakably real.
The stone caught the light, rich and deep green, nothing like the cloudy glass of the one he’d given her when they were in high school.
That one had turned her neck green after two weeks, but she’d worn it anyway—every single day while they were together, and for months after he left.
It stayed around her neck until the tarnish got so bad she finally shoved it into a box at the back of her closet.
“Jay.” His name was an exhale.
“I know it’s basically the same as the one I got you back then.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Figured maybe...I don’t know. Second chance, real version. Too chee—?”
She cut him off with her lips on his, resting her hands on his chest. He made a delighted noise and slid his hands in the back pockets of her jeans, pulling her waist against his. The island pressed into him, but he didn’t seem to mind as his tongue found hers.
When they parted, his lips were swollen and his grin was lazy. “You like it then?”
She nodded. “You worked so many extra hours for that first one.”
“You remember that?”
“I remember everything about us.” She smiled up at him. “And you were so proud of that necklace.”
A real laugh escaped him. “Yeah, well. Fifteen-year-old me thought a mall kiosk was the pinnacle of romance.”
“It was.” She lifted the necklace from the box, feeling the weight of it. “To me it was.”
He watched her with those tired eyes, and she felt the exhaustion radiating off him. “The meeting’s tomorrow,” she said carefully. “We could’ve stayed in. Ordered food, gotten you some sleep.”
His eyebrows scrunched. “Don’t want to think about tomorrow.” His thumb brushed her jaw. “Tonight’s yours.”
“You didn’t have to do all this though. This RV had to be expensive.”
“David and his husband are letting us borrow it.” He moved to the fridge, leaning in to retrieve the cake. His movements were fluid, but she caught the slight hesitation when he straightened; it was like his body moved a beat slower than it should. “Red velvet’s still your favorite, right?”
Warmth spread through her chest alongside a thread of worry. “Yeah. It is.”
“Phew. Would’ve been a bummer if you’d changed your mind.”
“Actually I lied. Plain vanilla now.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and he looked like he was about to make a joke but she clipped the necklace around her neck. The pendant settled above her collar, catching the light.
Jay immediately set the cake down and crossed back to her. “I’m going to need you in nothing but that necklace right now.”
He pulled her into him and kissed her hard. She laughed against his mouth. “A necklace has you this wound up?”
His lips found her neck. “It’s not the necklace. It’s the woman wearing it.”
They moved to the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind them like a seal on the outside world. Jay’s hands were on her immediately, tugging at the zipper of her jeans with a hunger that felt both familiar and edged with desperation.
The necklace stayed on, as promised. The cool metal pendant swayed between her breasts as he backed her toward the bed, his mouth claiming hers in a deep, demanding kiss.
He tasted of cigarettes and something sharper underneath, but she didn’t examine it too closely, letting the heat of the moment pull her under.
Loving Jay had always meant learning how to lean into the light he provided without looking too hard at the shadows it cast. And he had planned this night for her—for them. She wanted to let herself have it.
When she reached for his shirt, he laughed softly and pulled it over his head himself. He guided her down onto the mattress, murmuring against her neck, voice low and rough.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
His mouth moved lower, hands sliding up her legs with unhurried purpose. When he settled between her thighs, pleasure surged hot and blinding, washing over the anxious edges of her thoughts.
She whispered his name, fingers threading into his hair. He looked up at her once with that unguarded look, the one that had always undone her, and she had to close her eyes because there was too much in it. Too much history. Too much hope.
When she came, it was his name on her lips, repeated over and over in breathless gasps.
The sound of her voice cracking on his name like that hit him like a spark to dry tinder, and he groaned low against her, the vibration sending aftershocks through her.
He didn’t pull away until she was limp and panting beneath him.
He rose to shed the rest of his clothes, and took his time, kissing her everywhere. When he pressed into her, they both went still in that way they always did—like the moment needed acknowledging before it could move forward.
“Happy birthday, A,” he whispered, the words rough with something she felt more than heard.
Her thoughts drifted and tangled as he moved—how good this felt and how much effort there was in every choice he made tonight. She held on to that, to him, and let the sensation build gradually instead of all at once.
When it finally crested, she didn’t rush it, and let it overtake her. She broke softly this time, his name slipping from her in a way that sounded like relief. He followed not long after, holding her tightly as if the closeness itself was what he needed most.
They stayed in bed, neither of them in a hurry to move. His arm lay heavy over her waist as her fingers traced absent patterns along his forearm. The necklace had shifted sideways, cool against her skin.
But then, the quiet was interrupted by his phone buzzing. He didn’t reach for it.
“Shouldn’t you check that?” she asked after the third call went through. “What if it’s about Ari?”
“It’s not.” He said flatly. “It’s Luke. Or Lionel. They’ve been blowing up my phone all day.”
“About tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” He pulled her closer, face tucked into her neck like he could hide there. “Don’t wanna think about it. Just want to be here with you.”
So she let him stay there for a while longer.