disappears from her gaze. Just like that. It’s just that easy. “We’ve only been together for a little while.”
“I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life,” I say, my voice low. Serious. I take a step toward her.
Ava rolls her eyes. “Come on.”
“I mean it.” I stop directly in front of her, but I don’t touch her yet. Didn’t Ava tell me once there’s something to be said about anticipation? How good it can feel? Or maybe I heard that somewhere else. I don’t know, but before Ava, with other girls, I rushed everything. I just wanted to get to the good stuff, and I never wanted to linger.
Now, I want to linger. Savor. Revel in it. Revel in her.
“I’ve been dealing with a lot of shit these last few years, most of it brought on by my family. Or myself,” I start, reaching out to touch her face. I skim my fingers along her cheek, pleased when her eyelids flutter and her lips part. Every touch from me makes her body respond, no matter what. “I try to act tough, because it’s easier that way. No one can hurt me. My family does it on a daily basis, but if I talk shit and put on a front and beat the fuck out of guys who cross me, who cares? I’ve got this, right?”
“You don’t have to do that with me.” She slowly shakes her head, her imploring gaze locking with mine. “You don’t have to suffer alone.”
“I know. Since I’ve met you, I’m starting to realize that.” I cradle her face with both hands, my hold light, as if she’s a fragile and precious thing. To me, she is. “I’m not perfect. I’ve fucked up. I’ll probably continue to fuck up, but I love you. I love you more than anyone else, and I will do my damnedest to make sure I never hurt you.”
A tremulous smile curls her perfect lips and I lean in, gently pressing my mouth to hers. “I can’t guarantee I won’t hurt you again. I probably will.”
“I love you, too. And I don’t want some perfect, fake version of you. I want you just the way you are,” she whispers, just before I rest my mouth on hers again.
We stand in the middle of my room kissing, Muffin scratching at the door and whining, like she knows I’ve got the best fuckin’ girl in my room and I’m keeping her to myself. It’s true. She is the best girl.
And I’m definitely keeping her all to myself.
Twenty-One
Ava
“I cannot believe you’re in my office this morning. I also can’t believe what I heard you did to Cami Lockhart yesterday at cheer practice,” Mrs. Adney says with a long, disappointed sigh as she leans back in her chair.
I wish I could hang my head and avoid her gaze, but that’s cowardly. I need to face her head on. “I can’t believe it either.”
“Why’d you do it? What in the world possessed you to actually slug Cami in the face?” Mrs. Adney shakes her head. “If that had happened during school hours, you would’ve been automatically suspended for three days.”
“Really?” My heart feels like it just lurched in my chest. Like it’s trying to dislodge itself and take off running. “Are you going to suspend me?”
She sends me a hard look, her lips tight, her eyes narrowed. “I should. Cami wants me to. She showed up first thing at my office. Her parents want me to as well. They’d already left multiple phone messages by the time I actually got around to calling them. Have you told your parents about this yet?”
I assumed she’d already told them yesterday, figuring Brandy had contacted her and let her know. But when I arrived at home last night after being with Eli, completely on edge and prepared to defend myself, my parents acted like everything was normal.
So I did too. I never mentioned it.
Slowly, I shake my head.
“Well, they’re gonna find out. I’m contacting them as soon as our little meeting is over.” She sighs again, rocking back and forth in her chair, contemplating me. I really like Mrs. Adney. She enforces tough love like no other, yet all the students respect her. She doesn’t yell just for the sake of yelling. Her discipline is necessary, and deep down the majority of us know it. The good kids love her, the bad kids love her—for the most part—and we all bask in her compliments and glowing words when she offers them.
But when she’s looking at you like she’s currently looking at me? I can’t help but feel like slime on the bottom of someone’s shoe. The lowest of the low.
“I’m sure they’ll be mad at me,” I offer up, not sure of what I should say.
“Look.” She leans forward, her chair squeaking extra loud, making me wince. “Cami Lockhart is—difficult. I get it. But I have to draw the line on physical violence.”
“I understand.”
“Good. I’m sure you know that you’re suspended from the team.”
“Okay.” I expected that, thanks to what my coach said. “For how long?”
“Two weeks minimum. Maybe longer. Maybe for the rest of the season.” She levels me with a look and I want to crumble. Instead, I sit up straighter, fully prepared to take my punishment. “Your position on the team is currently under consideration.”
“If Cami had her way, I’d never come back,” I say, my heart twisting at the thought of actually never going back.
My heart twists at being on the team too. Dealing with Cami in the aftermath doesn’t sound pleasant either.
“You’re damn right. You probably shouldn’t be on the team. We do not condone that sort of behavior on campus. So with that…” She pauses, most likely for effect. “You’ll have to do Saturday school. For two weeks.”
“Oh God.” I take a deep, trembling breath, surprised that’s my punishment. I thought it would be a lot worse. Did I hear her right? “Two weeks?”
“Yes. If this had happened last year, you definitely would’ve been suspended. No question. But the laws change frequently in our state, and this recent change is to your advantage.” The stern expression on her face tells me I should consider myself lucky this is it. “I explained to them the situation, and the Lockharts are not pleased. They’ve already expressed their feelings in regards to this matter, but there’s nothing else I can do about it. The law is the law. Now get out of here.”
“Thank you,” I say with a jerky nod as I rise to my feet. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Apologize to Cami Lockhart,” she says as I open her office door.
Fat chance that’ll ever happen, I think as I make my way out of the maze that is the administration and staff offices. I walk through the door that leads to the lobby and spot a few students sitting slumped in the waiting area chairs with dark expressions on their faces. I’m sure they’re anticipating their punishment as well.
Great. Now I’m a bad kid. A bad kid who can’t cheer. Who’ll have to report to Saturday school for the next two weekends. My parents are going to be so pissed.
My phone buzzes in my backpack and I go to the zippered pocket where I keep it and pull it out to find a text from Eli.
What happened?
I type out a quick response.
Suspended from cheer team for two weeks. Maybe longer. Saturday school twice.
Eli: That’s not bad.
Me: I know. Could’ve been worse.
Eli: Chin up babe. Now you can come watch my games.