“No,” I insert, offended again, but for a stupid reason, “I worked my ass off for everything I have.”
“I know, but a lot of people can work their ass off but won’t make it because they’re not extraordinary.” Ava lazily lifts her hand to turn it in a slow circle, gesturing at me. “Success doesn’t drop into anyone’s lap. You’re special, Lucky. You were made for this. That’s rare.” She reaches across the table to place her hand on my forearm. “You’rerare. That’s why people love you.”
I place the joint between my lips, inhaling while eyeing her hand on my arm. “You don’t love me. Not anymore at least.”
She absently strokes her fingers over my skin all the while her lidded eyes focus on mine. “Well, you were a heinous asshole to me. But I still love your music. I only got through all that disappointment because I had your music as a distraction. And I’ll tell you what…”
Ava wags her finger at me as she stands up. I instantly feel the loss of her hand stroking my arm.
“The last time my dad slapped my face, I left and put on this one song of yours. It was one of those covers of obscure pop songs. The one about loving yourself. You had Sara do the vocals, and they go something like, ‘How dare you make me feel so small? Who do you think you are, trying to make me feel vulnerable when I’m already feeling so low? Baby, you should just go fuck yourself.’ Remember that one?”
She pauses and laughs, and I smile, nodding sagely despite how caught off guard and alarmed I am at the information she so casually mentioned.
So it was her dad that made her so preoccupied with getting smacked. What a fucking dick.
“Yeah, I loved that arrangement,” I agree placidly. “It was a tough one, but Sara did amazing with it.”
Ava laughs and nods enthusiastically. “She really did!” She sighs. “Anyway, I went driving around, just blasting that song. After that, I decided I wasn’t going to let my parents pay for my tuition, just so they had no power over me. And my boyfriend at the time thought that was stupid, because who in their right mind would turn down someone paying their tuition? I was like, ‘He slapped me. He’s been slapping my face my whole life.’ And my boyfriend was just like, ‘I think getting stuck with student loan debt is way worsethan getting slapped a few times. He didn’t even hurt you that badly. Get over it.’ And to me, that was a red flag. Like, to me, that sounds like he wouldn’t be opposed to slapping me either. So, I broke up with him. And he didn’t immediately accept it, so every time he would call me or text me trying to work things out, I put on that song again to remind myself that I don’t have to put up with being treated like that.”
Ava pauses, and I pass the joint to her. She turns toward the clouds again as she drags and exhales. “Your music helped me be brave during a time when I really needed to be brave. I’ll always love that. Even after you showed me the true asshole you are behind the curtain.”
She slowly strolls to the brick half wall and leans against it, and I stand up to join her. “Ava.”
She rolls the joint back and forth between her fingers and then passes it to me. “Hm?”
“I’m sorry for being such an asshole to you. I got my own problems. I shouldn’t take that shit out on you.”
She shrugs lazily. “It’s okay.”
“Y’know, Ava doll, I might be high right now—”
She snorts. “Youarehigh right now.”
I chuckle. “Well, yeah. Butit doesn’t really feel okay. Me treating you like that. So I am sorry.”
“Well...I appreciate that, but your disdain for me doesn’t have any more power over me than theirs did.”
I scoff, turning toward her and resting my arm on the wall. “I don’t have disdain for you. In fact, I think we’ve been getting along pretty well these past few weeks. Which is why I don’t understand why you didn’t like dancing with me a couple weeks ago in the kitchen. You called me a ticking time bomb.” I press my hand against my chest and make a big, playful show of being taken aback. “That was offensive.”
Ava chortles, crinkling up her nose in a way that’s so friggin’ adorable that I want to kiss her. “Well, you kind of are.”
“I’m not right now. In fact, right now, I’m very mellow.” I wave the joint at her while pushing away from the wall. I carefully snuff out the cherry and set the joint in the ashtray, then turn to her. “You should dance with me again.”
She turns to face me, leaning her back against the wall. “There’s no music.”
I slip my phone out of my pocket, fire up Frank Sinatra’sFly Me to the Moon, and then set it on the table. Holding my hand out, I curl my fingers toward myself, beckoning her to come to me. Her eyes are lidded, and I know she’s totally fucking high right now, too, and that’s probably the only reason she approaches and takes my hand.
Drawing her close to me, I lift her hand to drape around my neck and press my palm firmly against the small of her back. Our hips are flush against each other, and we’re both staring at each other below hooded eyelids, faces so close that lowering my forehead to hers is a natural reflex. Ava closes her eyes and relaxes against me, allowing me to easily lead her through the steps and slow, intermittent turns.
It all feels so natural that I don’t think twice before lowering my mouth to hers and pressing a kiss to her lips. A quiet moan draws from deep within her, prompting me to angle my head over hers, deepening the kiss.
Thunder cracks in the atmosphere, and everything about this feels more intense than the last time. Maybe it’s because I know she can’t stand me and thinks I hate her, but it’s more intense than any kiss I can even remember.
“You said it’s okay,” I murmur against her lips between more deep kisses.
“Hm?” she murmurs back, not separating from me; her fingers absently stroking my neck and combing my hair.
“When I was an asshole to you.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “You said, ‘It’s okay.’ If that’s true, forgive me.”
