First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,22

to hide my excitement. “You remember taking it?”

“Yes.”

The front door opens, and Trevor walks in.

“Is that your brother?” she asks.

“Yep.”

“Trevor!” she calls out.

“Coming, Mama Jo!” He drops his tools and runs into the kitchen, his expression worried.

“Look!” she says, pointing to the photographs. “I need one of you and Amy.”

The smile that overtakes me is instant. So is Trevor’s. “I’ll send some to Ava for her to print out.”

“Good,” Mom says, nodding.

I tell him, “Dinner’s in the oven. Another ten minutes.”

Trevor goes to the fridge for a beer while Mom says, “Wait here.” She gets to her feet slowly and goes to her room.

While she’s gone, Trevor and I share a look of amazement. “She’s doing so well,” I whisper.

Trevor nods. “Just don’t get your hopes up, okay? She’s done this before.”

“I know.”

“I mean it, Ava.”

I press my lips tight, nodding, and wait for Mom to come back in. “Here,” Mom says, placing a black velvet box on the kitchen table. She pats Trevor’s shoulder. “For you.”

“Me?” he asks, eyes wide.

Mom nods as she sits back down.

Trevor opens the box, his brow dipping when he sees what’s inside. “Is this the ring Dad got you?” he asks her.

Mom offers another nod. “For Amy.”

“I’m not asking her to marry me yet,” Trevor says through a chuckle.

“One day,” Mom tells him, her lids heavy. She’s getting tired, and she’ll need a rest soon. “This one,” she says to me, pulling another photograph of Trevor and me toward her. “I like this one a lot.”

My phone rings somewhere in the living room, and I ask Trevor to grab it for me while I collect the pictures into a pile. “It’s Connor,” he tells me, walking back into the kitchen.

“Why would he be calling?” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.

I take my phone from Trevor and answer, “Hello?”

“I got into Duke!”

“What?” I squeal, my heart racing, elation rushing through my bloodline.

“What?” Trevor whispers, motioning to the phone

“Connor got into Duke!” I shout, grasping the phone to my ear. “Oh, my God, Connor! You got into Duke!”

“I got into Duke,” he repeats, breathy, as if he can’t believe it himself.

“Where are you?” I laugh out, unable to contain my exhilaration.

“I’m outside.”

“He’s outside,” I tell Trevor, pleadingly.

“Go!”

I rush out the door, barefoot and bliss filled. Connor’s walking down the sidewalk toward my driveway, and I run. I run so fast and so hard and so free, and I crash into his chest, my arms around his neck. “You got into Duke!” I scream, my pride coming out in the form of laughter.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles, holding me to him, his arm around my waist while his other hand cups the back of my head. “I can’t fucking believe it, Ava.”

I release him and land back on my feet. “Well, fucking believe it because it’s happening!”

He grasps his hair, looking up at the sky. “This is insane.”

“No, it’s not!” I tell him, tugging on his arm. I lead him back to my porch and sit us down on the steps, my grin splitting my face in two. And it doesn’t matter what we are now, or what we were in the past. Dreams are dreams, and no one and nothing should ever take away the beauty of achieving them. I’ve shed so many tears lately that it feels so much more when the tears come from joy. “God, Connor,” I cry. “I’m so proud of you.”

Connor sits with his elbows on his knees, the letter still grasped in his hand, head down as he tries to settle his breathing.

“Are you okay?” I laugh, wiping the wetness off my cheeks. I know how much this means to him. It’s one step closer.

He looks up at me, trying to bite back a smile. “It’s happening,” he says. “Holy shit, it’s actually happening.”

“It’s just getting started,” I tell him, shaking his arm. “You’re going to go all the way! I can feel it in here.” I press a hand to my chest. “Everything you’ve worked for… everything you’ve ever wanted.”

He licks his lips, shakes his head. A beat of silence passes as his expression falls. Reaching up, eyes locked on mine, he fingers a strand of my hair. “Not everything, Ava.”

My heart strains against the meaning behind his words, and I push back the sudden ache. Because this is his moment. His time. And it’s bigger than he and I and all the what-ifs we carry. I rear back, plaster on a smile with little effort. “What did