An hour later, the two of them were in their room, Regan sitting against her headboard, laptop in her lap, researching ideas for her Fourth of July bake. When Ava came out of the bathroom, she was wearing jeans and a black tank top. Her hair was down and loose, and was that eyeliner?
“I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie,” Regan said, “but it looks like you’ve got other plans.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna go grab dinner with Vienna.”
“Oh. Okay.” She watched as Ava opened her small bag and checked for her credit card, then stepped into her sandals. She looked fucking hot, there was no denying that. “You all right?”
Ava nodded and finally looked at her. She smiled, but it didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “Yup. Fine. You?”
No, I’m not fine I want you to stay here with me I want you to only want to spend time with me I want to undress you and have my way with you and I want you to touch me and I want to talk about how we can keep seeing each other after this retreat is over because I really, really like you probably way more than you like me which terrifies me and there’s so much I want to say to you…It all flew through her head in one giant run-on sentence, begging to be said out loud.
Instead, she smiled, gave Ava a nod, and said, “I’m good.”
“Great. See you later.” And she left the room, closing the door behind her with a click that sounded much louder in Regan’s head than it actually was.
* * *
Ava and Vienna took an Uber to a small, out-of-the-way Italian restaurant that Vienna had read about online.
“I’m tired of sports bars and mixed drinks,” she’d said to Ava earlier. “I want a nice dinner and a glass of red wine. What do you think? You in?”
If Maia hadn’t sidled up to them in the dining room and said what she’d said, if she hadn’t shined a spotlight on Ava and Regan, Ava might have declined. Or she might have accepted but asked if Vienna would mind Regan tagging along. But that spotlight had illuminated other things as well, mainly the uncertainty and trepidation Ava felt around everything that had to do with Regan.
She was confused and floundering, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit. Because Ava wasn’t a person who let her feelings rule her. No way. She was practical. Logical. She followed lists. And rules. And being swamped by emotion was bullshit, as far as she was concerned. Having her brain be clouded by feelings? Bullshit.
The look on Regan’s face when she’d told her she was going to dinner with Vienna—and didn’t invite her to go along—was like something sharp poking her in the heart. And that was also bullshit, thank you very much.
They were seated at a small table for two in the corner, which was perfect because they could see the entirety of the small restaurant. There were maybe fifteen tables total and a small bar to one side. About half the tables were occupied, and the waitstaff bustled around, delivering drinks and baskets of bread—fresh bread, Ava noted, detecting the scent of it in the air, along with those of tomato sauce, basil, oregano, and parmesan. Damn, Italians knew what they were doing when it came to food.
Vienna seemed to melt into her chair, and the breath she released was huge enough to make Ava grin.
“All good now?” she asked.
“I will be once I have a glass of the Montepulciano in my hand.” She shook her head. “I’m ready to be done with this thing.”
“Really? Don’t you want to see if you get the money?”
Their waiter arrived at their table, told them the specials, and took their wine order. They decided to split a bottle.
Forearms on the white tablecloth, Vienna leaned forward. “Idon’t even care about the money. I just want to go home. I’ve learned everything I’m gonna learn from her, and I miss my family.”
Ava understood. “I get it. I don’t blame you. It’s been a long six weeks.”
The waiter came, uncorked, and poured their wine. Once they each had a glass, Vienna held hers over the table. “But you…here’s to finding”—she tipped her head to the side, as if unsure of the right words—“a date? Extracurricular activity? Love? What are you two exactly?”
It was Ava’s turn to sigh heavily, and she felt it in the very depths of her lungs. Touching her glass to Vienna’s, she said, “I wish I knew.”
Vienna sipped. “Haven’t talked it out yet?”
“I mean, no?” It was kind of embarrassing to say, and she didn’t realize justhowembarrassing until she said it. She grimaced and took a gulp of her wine.
“How come?” Vienna then waved a hand like she was erasing an invisible board in front of her. “You know what? That was nosy of me. You don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my damn business.”
“No. No. It’s okay.” And it was somehow. “I actually kind ofwantto talk about it ’cause…” She shook her head, and the smile that came to her face was one she actually felt blossoming. She couldn’t help it.
“Oh, I see,” Vienna said with a soft laugh. “There’s somethingshappening there.”
“Somethings. That’s a good way of putting it.”
