First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,119

me to come with her yet, and even though I’m dying to see Miss D, I know she has reasons and those reasons are pure. She wants to make sure that she and I are solid before reintroducing me into her mother’s life. Besides her telling me that she’s doing great and that she’s happy, she doesn’t give me much more.

Which is fine.

For now.

She runs her fingers through my hair, and my eyes drift shut at the touch. “Come over after practice?”

I nod, open my eyes again. “I’ll be there.”

Austin groans. “I miss my best friend.”

I get through classes and practice and then rush to Ava’s apartment because… well, because it’s Ava. She answers the door in nothing but a towel, and after the initial shock, annoyance takes over. I shove her back in, slam the door shut behind me. “What the hell are you doing? Anyone could be at the door or just walking past, and they’re going—”

“Shut up, Dad.”

“I’m serious, Ava.” And then I chuckle. “And it’s Daddy to you.”

Her nose scrunches. “Never.” She starts walking toward her room and says over her shoulder, “I was about to get in the shower.”

I start stripping out of my clothes, and when she must realize, she turns to me. “No.”

“That wasn’t an invitation?”

“No.”

I shrug my shirt back on. “My bad.”

She giggles, kisses me once. “Go wait out in the living room; I’ll be quick.”

“Fine,” I sigh out.

In her kitchen, I reach for a glass from the top cabinet. A tall one. Because I’m thirsty, and not just for water. But I fumble, knocking down a shorter one in front of it. It hits the edge of the counter and falls to the floor, smashing to pieces. “Idiot,” I murmur, shaking my head. I pick up all the larger pieces and trash them, then go searching for a broom to clean the smaller shards. I check the hallway closet, the pantry. It’s not in any of those, and so I go to her laundry room, stand in the middle. Because I’m a male, and males can’t find things that are right in front of them.

I spot her hamper in the corner, my eyes narrowing when I see the familiar black and orange. I make my way there, checking over my shoulder to make sure she’s not coming, and lift the jersey. I smile full force when I see the large 3 on the back, my name above. She still wears my jerseys. Elation swells in my chest, and I drop the garment when I hear the pipes clank, alerting me that she’s done. Remembering why I came here in the first place, I find the only other door in the room and swing it open. I find the broom, but I also find something that has my heart stopping instantly. Orange and black, and white and blue fill my vision. There are pictures of us on the walls of the closet and pictures of me on the shelves themselves. Newspaper cutouts, website printouts. Stacks of DVDs with dates and scores and stats and… I reach up, grab one, and open it. Besides the disc, there’s a single balloon—blue—and I inspect it closer, see the black marker. I grab another one. Same thing.

“Connor?” she calls out. “Where are you?”

I can’t speak.

Can’t breathe.

“Connor?” I hear her footsteps approaching, but I can’t… I can’t function. “What the hell are you doing?” she yells, taking the DVDs from me.

“Ava, what is this?”

“Nothing!”

I finally manage to peel my eyes away from the closet and look down at her. Tears well in her eyes, and she’s trying to close the door, but I’m in the way, and her face contorts as she cries out, “You’re not supposed to see this! Can you go? Please!”

“Ava…” I reach into the closet again, pull out a stack of DVDs. “These are all my games.” I open one, and a balloon falls out and lands on the floor.

She’s quick to pick it up, grasping for the DVD cover, but I jerk away, grab a newspaper cutout to inspect that, too. She tries to take it from me. “Stop it!” she begs. I let her take the article while I go back to the DVDs, letting them fall from their stack. “You’re getting them out of order!” she sobs. “Stop!” She’s pulling on my hands, trying to push me away, and I finally let her. She’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, her breaths short, sharp, as her hands shake trying to