Heartache and Hope (Heartache Duet #1) - Jay McLean Page 0,89

I kiss his lips, and then his jaw, loving the way he brings me closer.

A deep throat clearing has me pulling away, hiding my face in his neck. Connor’s shoulders shake with his silent chuckle. “Coach,” he says in greeting.

“Ledger,” Coach Sykes returns. “Y’all leave room for Jesus now.”

Chapter 46

Ava

I swipe up on my phone, my hands shaking as I rush to read every word on the email Trevor has forwarded to me. It’s from our health insurance company about Mom’s coverage, but I don’t understand what it means. There are too many technicalities, withdrawals, and limitations, and every line, every paragraph has my heart beating faster and faster, my airways tightening.

“Ava!” Connor snaps, and I come back to reality. For a second, I’d forgotten where I was, too embroiled in what the changes to the coverage mean for my mom, for our future.

Connor has one hand on the wheel, his entire body leaning to the side, facing me. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve been saying?”

We’re on our way home from school, I remember that much, and I remember opening the email with the subject: URGENT and everything after that was filled with panic. “Sorry, what?” I try to focus on his words over the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears.

His brow lifts. “I was telling you about the tournament this weekend. How there are going to be twenty-five college coaches and eight NBA scouts…”

I peer down at my phone again.

“Ava?!”

“Huh?” My eyes snap to his. “Sorry.”

“It’s cool,” he mumbles, his expression falling. He focuses on the road again. “I was just confessing all my fears and doubts to you, but it seems like you’re preoccupied...” Shaking his head, he adds, barely a whisper, “Like always.”

“I’m sorry,” I rush out, dropping my phone in my bag. I turn to him, give him my full attention. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. “Just start again.”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

I grasp his arm. “Connor, no. Just tell me everything again.”

He pulls up in front of our houses, his gaze distant as he stares out through the windshield. “I have to get back to school. Coach is waiting for me.”

“What?” I huff out. Then realization dawns. “Wait, did you push back practice to give me a ride?”

Connor nods but keeps his eyes trained ahead.

My stomach sinks. “You didn’t have to drive me home.”

He turns to me now, his movements slow, and just like he stared out the window, he stares at me. Unblinking. But his gaze looks past me, and I feel… exposed. I watch him closely, see the disappointment in his eyes, the frustration in his brow. And I hear the defeat in his words when he says, “I just needed to talk to you.”

I exhale loudly, try to calm my thumping heart. “Connor, I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head, then reaches across me and opens my door. “I really do have to go.”

My stomach is in knots, and I don’t want to leave him, not like this. “How long will you be gone?”

Without looking at me, he says, “I don’t know, Ava.”

“Well, will you call me later?” I’m trying. I’m doing my best to fight for his forgiveness, but I don’t know how. “You think I can get my goodnight kiss?”

“Sure,” he says, but there’s no inflection in his tone. No promises.

And while my mind is back on that email trying to process everything it had to say, I get out of the car without another word and leave my heart in the driver’s seat, the distance between us growing with every second.

I spend the rest of the night worrying about Connor, or more specifically, Connor and me, when I know I should be more concerned about Mom’s insurance. It doesn’t escape me that I seem to be focusing on Connor when I’m around my mom and then my mom when I’m around Connor, and I really wish there was a switch for my brain. I wish I could train it to stop and go at the right times. I wish my mind weren’t always stuck in a fog. I wish… I wish for so many things. But right now, I wish for Connor. For him to message me and tell me he’s home and that he wants his kiss.

It’s eleven thirty, and I still haven’t heard from him.

Dread pools in the pit of my stomach, because I know how flakey I’ve been lately. I can see how frustrated he’s getting with me, and I want to