Chapter Seventeen Ava #3
Somewhere behind them, a gull screamed like it had just witnessed emotional vulnerability and disapproved.
Ava almost laughed.
Instead, her eyes filled.
Disaster.
Nate saw that too.
His entire body went careful.
“No,” she said, pointing at him.
“I didn’t move.”
“You emotionally moved.”
“I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Good. Stay confused.”
His mouth twitched.
She wiped under one eye quickly, furious with herself.
“This is why we need rules,” she said.
“Because of gulls?”
“Because of feelings.”
“Right. The worse birds.”
A laugh broke out of her.
Small.
Wet.
Annoyed.
Nate smiled like he had not won it.
Like he was just grateful it existed.
That was worse.
Ava looked away toward the lake.
“I hate that he texted you.”
“I know.”
“I hate that you saw it.”
“I know.”
“I hate that you didn’t believe him because now I have to deal with that too.”
Nate was quiet for a second.
Then, very carefully, he asked, “Deal with what?”
She closed her eyes.
There it was.
The real thing.
The thing under Trevor and the fake boyfriend and the rules.
Ava opened her eyes and looked at him.
“With wanting to believe you.”
Nate went completely still.
No smile.
No joke.
No smugness, internal or otherwise.
Just Nate.
The version who had brought rolls. Changed a photo. Held her hand. Let go when she needed him to. Stayed when she asked without making it a victory.
Ava stepped back because staying still felt too much like stepping forward.
“My shift starts soon,” she said.
It was cowardly.
It was necessary.
Nate nodded. “Okay.”
This time, she did not tell him to stop saying okay.
He deserved that one.
They walked back toward the shore in silence.
Halfway across the dock, Nate said, “Rule update?”
Ava looked over.
He kept his eyes forward. “If Trevor texts either of us, we say so. No surprises.”
Her chest tightened.
“That is a good rule.”
“Basic can still be good.”
She hated that he remembered.
She liked that he remembered.
“Fine,” she said. “Rule seven. No secret Trevor texts.”
“Agreed.”
They reached the grass near the rental shed.
The main deck was starting to fill. Ellie waved from the snack shack window, then immediately made an exaggerated heart with both hands.
Ava pointed at her in warning.
Ellie turned the heart into a rectangle, probably pretending it was a reasonable hand gesture about menus.
Nate saw it and laughed under his breath.
“She is subtle,” he said.
“She is fired from hand shapes.”
“Can you fire someone from shapes?”
“Watch me.”
Nate stopped near the split in the path, where he would head toward the team tent and Ava toward the staff entrance.
The moment arrived too quickly.
Ava hated that she knew it was a moment.
“So,” he said. “Continuing.”
“For now.”
His eyebrows lifted.
She caught herself. “Not in the bad chapter-ending way. In the operational way.”
“Understood.”
“We follow rules.”
“Yes.”
“We do not let Trevor write the story.”
“No.”
“We do not let Tyler spreadsheet the story.”
“Absolutely not.”
“We do not kiss.”
Nate’s eyes dropped to her mouth.
Just for a second.
Long enough.
Ava stopped breathing.
His eyes lifted back to hers.
“No kissing,” he said.
His voice was rougher than before.
Ava should have been satisfied.
She was not.
That was a problem for later Ava.
Current Ava needed to clock in.
She turned toward the snack shack.
Then her phone buzzed.
Ava and Nate both looked down.
Her mother.
MOM: Grandma wants to know whether Nate is coming to the Wednesday cookout. She says she wants to ask him about his hidden tattoo.
Ava stared at the text.
Nate leaned slightly closer and read it.
Very quietly, he said, “I fear your grandmother.”
Ava looked up at him.
The smart thing would be to say no.
The rule-abiding thing would be to say dinner was one time and the fake boyfriend operation should not expand to midweek grandmother tattoo investigations.
Instead, Ava’s phone buzzed again.
Another text.
Not her mother.
Trevor.
TREVOR: Wednesday cookout should be fun. Maybe your boyfriend can explain how serious this is.
Ava’s stomach dropped.
Nate saw the screen.
His face changed.
Not doubt.
Not anger, exactly.
Resolve.
Ava looked at him, then at the lake, then back at the text.
Rule seven. No secret Trevor texts.
Fine.
Rule eight, apparently: when the story kept following you, stop pretending you could outrun it alone.
Ava locked her phone and met Nate’s eyes.
“How do you feel about cookouts?”
Nate’s mouth curved, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes.
“With or without twine?”
Ava almost laughed.
Almost.
Then Paulson’s voice boomed from the deck microphone.
“Attention, Ridgeview Challenge teams. Slight schedule change. Wednesday’s family cookout will now include a sponsor-hosted couples relay for bonus points.”
Ava closed her eyes.
Of course it would.
Nate let out one slow breath beside her.
From the snack shack window, Ellie screamed, “OH MY GOSH.”
Across the deck, Tyler’s voice rose with pure, horrifying joy.
“CALLAHAN, YOUR FAKE GIRLFRIEND HAS A BONUS ROUND.”
Ava opened her eyes and looked at Nate.
Nate looked back at her.
The no kissing rule suddenly felt less like a boundary and more like a dare.