My chest is suddenly so tight that the cigarette smoke feels like it’s going to drown me, and I blindly snuff it out in an ashtray. Marching to the terrace door, I shield my hands around my eyes and peer out through the glass. Lighting lights up the entire street for a second before thunder crashes again, but the quick illumination is enough to confirm my fears.
I whip around to stare at Ava with wide eyes and point at the window. “It’s fuckin’ flooding.”
She looks at me patiently from where she’s naked under the covers and then pulls back the sheet to climb out of bed. She crosses the room and peers out the window for a second, then steps in front of me, slipping her arms around my waist and pressing her breasts to my bare chest.
“That’s not a flood.” She kisses my sternum and slides her palms up and down the muscles that flank my spine. “It’s just really wet because it’s been raining all day. The house is going to be fine.” She pauses as she turns her head to press her ear to my chest. “Your pulse is really fast. I think you’re having some anxiety. Come lay down with me. Try to relax.”
I don’t have it in me to relax, but it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.
Ava leads me by the hand to the bed and climbs in, and I compliantly follow her. I wrap myself around her back, folding my arms around her breasts and waist like she’s a life-size teddy bear. She rests her hands on my forearms, stroking them and intermittently dipping her face to kiss my skin.
“The French Quarter didn’t flood,” she murmurs after a few moments of our silence amidst the rumbling, rattling thunder. “During Hurricane Katrina, I mean. This section of New Orleans is above sea level. All the bad flooding was in areas where it’s a couple of feet below sea level.”
I cut my eyes toward her.
Can she read my mind?
Are we really that in tune with each other now?
It feels like we are.
Ava slowly slides her palm back and forth across my forearm. “I know you’re worried about something destroying your house. But it won’t be this storm. And if something ever does, you have insurance and a lot of money. You’ll never wind up on the street again, Lucky.” She nestles her face into the crook between my bicep and elbow and kisses my skin again. More lightning flashes, followed by the guttural growl of thunder that builds to a loud clap, all of it punctuated by the lamp flickering again. She slides her hands farther to cup my elbows and pull my arms tighter around her, flattening her cheek against my shoulder. “Your breathing is too shallow. Breathe with me. Nice and slow. In and out.”
Her back rises and falls against my chest, and the lamp flickers again. I tuck my face into the crook of her neck, my lips lightly connecting with the soft skin of her nape, and I breathe with her. I breathe her in. My chest tightens again, this time having little to do with the storm. I’m drowning right now.
Fuck me.
I love her so much.
MyGod, how I love her, and myGod, how hard and fast I fell for her. It only took a little more than a month. The only time I’ve felt like this before was with Gia—and what I felt for Gia didn’t even approach this.
After all, Ava’s nothing like Gia.
Gia was selfish, self-serving, short-sighted, and shallow. Gia’s the one who stabbed me in the back and got me shot in the fucking chest. Ava’s done nothing but help me since she’s been here, and for half of that time, I was a dick to her. And then she forgave me for being a dick to her, and then she moved into my bedroom without protest, and we’ve been having a grand ol’ time ever fucking since.
Something in me needsto tell her. I don’t think she understands how serious I am about her, and she’s still planning to cut ties with me and everything here when she leaves. I can’t have that. Seventy fucking days ago I couldn’t have imagined wanting this lockdown to last longer than it has, but now I do. I need it to last long enough for Ava and me to establish that she’s mine and I’m hers, and that the distance between her home and mine is a problem we’re going to solve together. We just need time.
I mean, look at this beautiful thing we’ve made together in only a month or so.
I’ve never had anything like this, and I know she hasn’t either, and this beautiful thing is worth working for.
It’s worth fighting for.
It’s worth keeping.
And I don’t think she’s going to reallyunderstand that until I tell her those three terrifying words.
Fuck.
“What song is that?” Ava’s quiet voice cuts through my racing thoughts.
My eyes do a quick, automatic flit around the room as I attempt to decipher any music amidst the rumbling, rattling thunder. “I don’t hear a song.”
“No, this.” She places her hand on mine, which I have braced against her lower abdomen right between her hips. My fingers are lightly and absently tapping out a rhythm on her bare skin, and I didn’t even notice. “You do that a lot. I’ve seen you play enough that I can tell it’s a song.”
I smirk reflexively. “I’m gonna go with Rhapsody in Blue.”
A smile tugs the corner of her mouth that’s in my line of sight. “That’s a good one.” She frees one of her arms to reach for her phone on the bedside table, taps the screen a few times, and fires up a piano solo of the old Gershwin standard. Setting the phone down, she tucks her arm back under mine and pulls my wrist so that my hand is resting on her clavicle. “Keep going.”
