voice slurred, “I kissed Tenny and now he hates me.”
Silence reigned a few seconds.
Aidan breathed, “Shit.”
Tango’s eyes got wide, and white-rimmed, and frightened-looking.
Mercy nodded, filled the glass and turned to what was essentially his charge, his expression patient and kind. “Alright.” He moved to lay a hand on Reese’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go get some fresh air, and you can drink this down.”
Carter traded looks with Aidan and Tango, both varying degrees of shocked and panicked.
When Ava poked her head into the room and said, “Carter, can we talk a sec?” he went gladly.
Carter had suspected that something like that was going on with Tenny and Reese – something romantic. And he didn’t have a problem with it; didn’t care what they did. Honestly, both of them freaked him the hell out, and he couldn’t decide if a romantic entanglement made them twice as scary – or spared some poor civilian girl having to deal with their special agent, human weapon bullshit. But dropping that kind of bomb in mixed club company…dropping it while being Reese…that was a whole can of worms Carter wanted no part of right now.
So he followed Ava, and didn’t think, until they were out on the front porch, amidst the fluttering moths and the cool spring breeze, that this was a strange request.
She sat down in one of the three rockers there, crossed her legs, casual and unbothered. She gestured to the one next to her, and he sat, warily.
“What’s up?”
“That was actually going to be my question.” She rested her elbow on the arm of the chair, and propped her chin on her fist, gaze trained on him. “How’ve you been lately?”
A benign question, but not her expression. He wanted to squirm beneath the weight of her dark eyes; her dad’s eyes. He’d thought her so pretty back when they were in school, and she was still, but the crush he’d entertained senior year had wound up on the bloodied floor of Hamilton House, wiped away by an image that still haunted his nightmares, occasionally: Mercy crouched over a screaming, bleeding Mason, Mercy’s hand still on the knife buried in Mason’s leg, Ava leaning against his back, her arms draped around his broad shoulders, hands on his chest. Totally trusting. He’d known then, in that moment, the air scented with iron and copper, that she was a whole different creature from he himself. He was not of her species, not like Mercy was.
But, lately, he couldn’t classify himself, if pressed; he sensed she knew that, and so the question landed heavy, a dropped load of bricks between them. He didn’t know which to pick up first, or which would prove a lie.
He took a breath, a little warm and too-honest thanks to the two beers he’d had with dinner. “I don’t really know how to answer that, to be honest.”
She nodded, not seeming surprised. “I thought you might say that. I feel awful that I haven’t bothered to talk to you about it before now.”
He felt his brows go up. “Why would you?”
Her brows went up in turn. “Because I’m your friend, and I care about you.”
“I have a club full of friends,” he said, a little meanly, and she frowned. Almost a smirk.
“Really?”
And here he was worried about being mean.
“Yeah, okay,” she relented. “They’re your friends. Your brothers,” she amended. “But I don’t think you go telling your deep, dark secrets to my brother.”
“You think I have deep, dark secrets?”
“I think you looked at Leah tonight like a guy who didn’t have a sexy woman of his own waiting on him at home.”
“I don’t,” he blurted, and then checked himself.
Ava’s smirk smoothed out into a smile. “Things not going so well with Jazz?”
“No. Yes, I mean – no, things aren’t bad.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Things are…” The back of his neck prickled unhappily, and he reached to scratch at it. “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing, if you don’t want to. But I wanted you to know that you could say something – anything – if you need a friendly ear. I never imagined you ending up with someone like Jazz.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he bristled – but it felt obligatory. Like he was supposed to be offended. Inwardly, he just felt tired.
She sighed. “I like Jazz fine. Considering.” She shook her head a moment, expression one of marveling at this life they were both a part of. It was a comfort to know that even Biker Princess Ava could