“Your behavior’s far from non-existent,” I say, standing up so I can tower over her. “And it shows you for exactly what you are.” I angle my face over hers. “Which is a spineless coward who hides from what she wants and is nothing but a friggin’ pushover.”
“Ha!” She throws her arms down at her sides. “Do you think I don’t know that about myself?”
My brows quirk at the center.
That wasn’t exactly the response I was expecting, and she doesn’t even stop there.
Ava pivots and stomps to the railing. “IknowI’m like that. Do you actually think I’m happyabout it? Do you think humiliating me and making me feel like shit about it is somehow going to make me notbe like that?” She grips the railing for a second, then turns around and leans her back against it. Her hazel eyes spear me beneath her knitted brows. “I’m trappedin your house, and you’ve gone out of your way every single time I’ve seen you to make me feel like shit, just because I got drunk and said some stupid stuff to you, and then made an embarrassing mistake. That entire first day, and the next morning…allof it was already mortifying.” She throws her hands up and lets them fall at her sides while shaking her head. “I was planning to leave the very next day, but couldn’t because thewhole, entire worldshut down.” She thrusts her index finger through the air, pointing accusingly at me. “And youact like I did that to spite you when I already hatemyself enough already for letting it happen in the first place.”
I squint at her and shift my eyes. Thatkind of response I expected even less. It also didn’t even occur to me that she has some kind of regret over what happened between her and Patrick. It didn’t occur to me that maybe the rude shit she said to me while we were dancing may have been a result of alcohol and insecurities. It only occurs to me just now that maybemy being an asshole to her about it was a bit over the top.
But mostly, I don’t understand why she feels that way about herself.
“Ava.” I approach her cautiously. “Something like all that shouldn’t make you hate yourself. Hating yourself for any reason is stupid. In life, we…as in us as individuals…we’re the only person any of us can depend on. Only we can really have our own back. Anyone else is capable of letting us down or stabbing us in the back. You can’t really depend on anyone, and you can only truly depend on yourself. So it sounds like you need to get that shit in order, because hating yourself? That’s a fan-friggin-tastic way to hobble yourself and ruin your life.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, thanks for the patronizing life advice, Lucky, but I’m afraid that it’s not going to work for me because I dohate myself for all of that. The fact that I did all of that after being here only a few hours is just one more thing that proveshow weak of a person I am.” She gestures with both hands at me, her eyes now hysterically wide as she launches into a tirade. “Everything you just said about me is accurate. I have a very bland life, Lucky. And it’s allbecause I’m so weak, and I’ve never managed to stand up against people or circumstances that pushed me away from all the things I really wanted in life. Everythingabout my life is completelyunfulfilling, and it sucks. And now,I’m trapped in this sin-saturated speakeasy with you,all because I fell completely in love with your fake-as-fuck stage persona. Just because it was the polar opposite of my boring, bland, suck-tastic life.”
She sucks in a breath and then growls deep in the back of her throat. Pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes, she drops her head below her shoulders. “Now I have no job and no way to even get home until this shit blows over. I have nothing. And you have a vendetta. Against me. All because I got drunk and did something stupid.”
Thatis a hell of a lot to process. I’m so caught off guard by her word-vomiting candor that I can’t even think of something to say before a sob bursts from her lips.
Ohfuck.
Pleasedon’t fucking cry.
Jesus Christ.
Ava turns away from me, her hands still covering her eyes, and leans way over the railing. If nothing else, her hanging over the rail like that triggers my healthy respect for heights, and I immediately cross the balcony to stand next to her and wrap my arm around her waist.
She pulls her hands away from her face to snap her head toward me. “You said you wouldn’t touch me,” she blubbers, tears streaming down her cheeks and smearing mascara all over.
“Well, you’re making me kinda nervous leaning over the friggin’ rail like that.”
I slide my hand to rest less invasively on the middle of her back. In doing so, my fingers slip underneath the thick, brunette curtain of her hair. She’s got great hair, but I didn’t anticipate its alluring softness. I’d love to grab a fistful of it and pull hard, but that’s been rendered an impossibility. Although, since I’ve got my hand here anyway, I indulge myself by catching a small section of hair between my thumb and index finger, absently stroking it.
Ava huffs. “Yeah, well…I’m sure it would remove the thorn in your side if I accidentally fell over.”
I can’t let a comment like that slide, and I grab her arm to force her to face me. “What the hell is the matter with you, saying shit like that? Do I need to put you on fuckin’ suicide watch while you’re here?”
“No.” She juts her chin up high, piercing me with her gaze, and I grasp her other arm, holding her in place in front of me. “Just stopbeing so cruel to me. I knowthat you hate that I’m here. I hate that I’m here, too, and making me feel like shit while I’m here isn’t going to make you hate it any less. I’m working with Meyer, literallytrying to save your career. And, by the way, I’m doing that for free when I could be focusing all my energy and experience on pursuing opportunities that I’d actually make money from. That should at least be enough to make up for the fact that I,me, the current bane of your existence, is stuck here against my will.”
For once, I can’t think of anything to say. We’re left staring at each other; me holding her arms just above her elbows; the warm breeze whipping her hair around her face; hazel eyes illuminated to deep, gold pools by moonlight and the lamp inside her room. I’m holding her close enough to me that when she shifts on her feet to maintain balance, her knee brushes the fabric of my slacks.
“Do you want me to send Patrick in here?” I finally ask.
Her eyes squint slightly for a second like she thinks I’m crazy. “What good would that do for anything?”
“I don’t know.” I’m still holding her arms, and I rub her skin with my thumb. “You guys kinda have a thing. You’re upset. You need someone to make you feel better. I know that’s not me.”
“We don’t have athing,” she hisses. “It was just a mistake.”
“You don’t like him?”
Her shoulders lift slightly and then drop. “He’s a nice guy. He’s been far nicer than you. He obviously cares about my feelings, but I didn’t come here to get involved in anything like that, so I don’t need him coming in here to console me. I don’t know what part ofdrunken mistakeyou’re not understanding.”
I still have no intention of pursuing Ava the way I originally did, but for some reason, knowing she’s not interested in getting involved with Patrick feels like relief. “You don’t need to do all that shit with Meyer for free, you know. I got enough in the kitty to pay you.”
“I don’t want your money.”
