Sex with Regan was… She didn’t even have the proper words to describe it. It was beyond. Beyond surprising. Beyond exhilarating. Beyond fantastic. It was simplybeyond.
She’d had no idea.
When she hazarded another glance across the aisle, Regan met her gaze and grinned, and just like that, all Ava’s stress dissipated, floated away like vapor in the air.
How did she do that?
“What seems to be the problem, Chef?” Liza was saying now, and when Ava glanced up in front of her, Maia looked slightly frantic.
“My lucky bandanna,” she said, patting her chef’s coat, opening drawers and cupboards. “It’s gone.”
“And is that a big deal?” Liza asked, clearly not sharing Maia’s obvious worry.
“It is to me. I can’t bake without it.” Maia turned in a circle. “I have to go to my room and look.” And without waiting for permission of any kind, she skedaddled right out of the workstation, frantic.
Liza inhaled and let it out slowly as she shook her head, then moved on to Vienna’s station.
Ava and Regan exchanged glances.
Later that evening, while Regan was in the shower, Ava was lying on her bed and asked Courtney the same question about Regan being able to calm her as they FaceTimed.
“What do you mean?” Courtney asked. It was her day off from the restaurant, and she was sitting on her couch with her knitting in her lap, her phone propped up so she could talk to Ava without needing to hold the phone.
“I mean…I don’t know.” She sighed, long and low. “She just—makes me feel better. Even today when Chef said something.”
“Which was not cool, just so we’re clear.” Courtney had her readers on, as she always did when she knit, and she looked over the rim of them at the screen.
“Yeah, I know.”
“It’s nobody’s business. You’re adults. Fucking Liza Bennett-Schmidt doesn’t get to tell you who you can or cannot sleep with, you know.”
Ava grinned into the phone, her affection for her friend surging. Courtney had never liked Liza Bennett-Schmidt. She’d always thought of her as an egomaniac, somebody enamored with herself. Maybe she was right. “Whatcha makin’?” she asked.
“Booties for my cousin’s kid.” She held up a tiny shoe-shaped creation in light blue. “And I’m not ignoring your other question. I just needed to put in my two cents about that bitch.”
“I mean, it was more like two dollars, but I accept it.” Ava smiled and glanced at the bathroom door. She could still hear the shower running.
“The answer is simple,” Courtney said, not looking up from the bootie. “She makes you feel better because you let her.”
Ava scrunched up her nose. “What do you mean?”
This time, Courtney put down the knitting and looked at her. “Listen, I love you. You’re my best friend. But you’re not exactly warm and fuzzy. You’re not easy. Getting to know you isn’t simple. You have walls and barriers and fucking guards on duty. Guards in chain mail. With clubs. Spiked clubs. On horses. You’re kind of a hard person.”
Ava flinched. “Um, ouch.”
“Please. Suck it up. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”
Ava pouted but had to agree, because Courtney knew her well. And she was right. “Fine.”
“But it sounds like, with her, maybe you let the walls down a bit? Give the guards the day off?”
The imagery was enough to make her grin. “I mean, maybe? Everybody needs a vacation day or two.”
“Exactly.” Courtney laughed softly. “See? You’re a good boss.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Just be careful, okay?” Courtney’s expression turned slightly more serious. “Don’t make me worry.”
