Heartache and Hope (Heartache Duet #1) - Jay McLean Page 0,44

guy, completely ignoring the fact that I’m here.

My nemesis—aka Peter—wraps his arms around her the moment she’s close enough. The hug lasts too long, and I want to clear my throat and yell, hello, I’m here, too. But that would be pathetic. More pathetic than me just standing here watching them. Peter pulls back an inch, takes her in from head to breasts and back again.

Yeah, I already don’t like this guy, and I know nothing about him.

He holds her face in both his hands, and I want to rip off those hands and beat him to death with them. “Bad night, huh?” he asks, and there’s no possible way he would know that just from looking at her.

Ava finally, finally, notices me standing on the sidewalk like a lost fucking puppy and releases her embrace. She tells him, “Just give me a second.”

I stand, my hands in my pockets and my pride in her grasp. “I’m going to be late this morning.”

That’s it?

Where’s my fucking hug?

I know I shouldn’t be this upset, so I do my best to hide it. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, tugging on the lapels of my blazer. “I should be there by lunch.”

Nodding, I glance up to see Peter on their porch watching our every move. Ava asks, “I’ll meet you at our usual spot?”

Peter crosses his arms, his eyes narrowed.

Ava tugs on my blazer again. “Okay?”

My eyes drift back to the girl in front of me, the morning sun hitting her eyes, turning them orange. I smile when she does. “Yeah. I’ll be waiting.”

On her toes, she reaches up, plants a kiss on my cheek. It’s not the kiss I wanted, the kiss I thought I needed, but it’s something. And something sure beats all the uncertainty I’d been drowning in.

Lunch comes around, and I skip the cafeteria just so I can get those few minutes more with her. I’m at our spot before she is, so I wait and wait and wait. My excitement turns to confusion, and then confusion turns to worry. I send her a text, ask if everything’s okay. Then I wait some more. By the time the warning bell sounds and there’s still no reply, that worry turns to envy, to jealousy.

And I hate that it does. Because I realize that this reaction burning a hole inside me isn’t because of this guy’s car or his looks or even the fact that he gets to spend time with Ava. It’s because whoever the hell he is, Trevor trusts him enough to be around her, and more? Ava trusts him enough to be around her mom… something I haven’t earned.

And something I’ll probably never get a chance to.

Chapter 28

Connor

It’s nearly midday Saturday, and the only communication I’ve had with Ava was a text last night with a simple “sorry.”

There was nothing else to accompany it, and I don’t even know if she’s sorry she stood me up yesterday or sorry she didn’t let me know or sorry because she’s giving one or all of my eight kisses to a guy sleeping in her house.

My brain is broken. Obviously.

Which is probably why I’m sitting on the front porch with my phone in my hand, staring at the unsent message that’s been flashing on my screen for the last half hour.

It says:

Hi

Because I don’t know what else to say without sounding as desperate as I feel.

I delete the text and pocket my phone, then just stare out into the street as if it’s my only care in the world. The guy opposite us is mowing his lawn; a few houses over, someone is painting their porch. A woman is out walking a dog past a guy washing his car. And then some kids show up on their bikes, backpacks on. It’s the same punk kids from before who TP’d Ava’s house. I sit higher, watch closer. They ride in circles at the end of the road, their voices low. One of them gets off his bike, the biggest of them all, and removes his backpack. Crouched down and staring at Ava’s place, he pulls out a water bomb.

I’m on my feet, walking down my steps before he even raises his arm. “You should probably think twice before throwing that!”

All four boys glare at me. The one with the water bomb yells, “Fuck you!”

Fuck me?

No.

I yell, “You suck your paci with that mouth, you little bitch!” Not my greatest moment, but it’s all I could come up with. I’m barefoot, but it doesn’t