First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,42
I’m out.
True to his word, Connor calls a half hour later, and I can tell he’d literally just gotten out of the bath because he has me on speaker while he moves around his room, opening and closing drawers to get dressed. “I miss you, too!” he calls out as soon as I answer and before I can get a word in. “You said it before, and I didn’t say it back, and I didn’t want you to think I didn’t miss you because I do. Just give me one second.”
I wait, phone to my ear, my lips curled at the corners, and it should be impossible to feel the way I do just from hearing his voice or knowing he’s close. Especially after the night I’ve had. A beat passes before his phone crackles, and I know he’s taken me off speaker to give me his full attention. “Are you there?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Tough night?”
With a heavy sigh, I tell him, “I don’t want to talk about it. I’d rather talk about you and the game. Will you tell me about it?”
“Um… there’s not much to say, but…” He pauses a beat. “Ava, I know something’s going on. What happened?”
My lashes dip, my eyes focused on the check I’d pulled out of my drawer.
I can take care of you, Ava.
I’m running out of time. And options. “Can you come over?”
“Window or door?”
“Window.”
I lift the blinds, then the window, and wait for him, my heart somehow racing and settling at the same time when he comes into view. He’s in flip-flops, a tank top, and basketball shorts. “Aren’t you cold?”
He gets to the window, his teeth clenched. “I didn’t really think when I left; I just wanted to see you.”
Stepping back, I help him get in as quietly as possible, then close the window after him. “Do you want your hoodie back?” I ask, my back still to him.
When I turn around, he’s in my bed, lifting the covers to his chin. “I’m good.”
“By all means, make yourself comfortable.”
He smirks. “I plan to, but first…” He reaches over, grasps my hand, and pulls me to him as he makes space for me. I get in bed with him, ignoring the iciness of his flesh when he throws his arm around me. “What happened tonight?”
“She’s having a hard time remembering things,” I murmur, tracing the lines on his palm with the tip of my finger. “And not just last night, but… she didn’t understand why Trevor was here, and she kept asking for William.” I look up at him, at the all-consuming frown ruining his beautiful face. “I don’t know what triggered it, but last time it was this bad… things went downhill so fast. I blinked, and she was…”
“Did I do this? By taking her out last night?”
“No, Connor,” I’m quick to say. “This just… this is her life.”
“But I made it worse?” he mumbles, removing his hand from my grip. The heels of his palms press to his temples, circling. His head tilts, his eyes going to the ceiling for answers. His moan of frustration echoes in the room, in my heart.
I take his hand again, link my fingers with his, and go to kiss the back of it, stopping when I see the black marker there. My eyes narrow when I read the words: Miss D.
“What’s this?” I ask, and he looks down, traces his handwriting.
After a heavy sigh, he says, “Every time I went for a shot, I’d see her name, and it reminded me of…”
“Of what?”
He licks his lips, focused on our connection. “It reminded me of her… and you. It just helped me push on, I guess.”
My heart squeezes at his words, and I lift my gaze to his. “Why are you so perfect, Connor?”
“I’m not, Ava,” he replies, shaking his head. “If I were, we wouldn’t be here.”
“In my bed together?” I try to joke.
But he doesn’t find it funny. “You ever think about what happened to us?”
“Of course,” I whisper.
But I don’t think it was really a question, because he says, “Because I do. I think about it all the time. All the ways I fucked up—”
“It wasn’t just you—”
“It was, Ava.” He clears his throat. “I was impatient and selfish, and I don’t think I realized how… how bad things were for you. And that night when your mom asked me to come over, I felt like… God, this is going to sound so bad…”