“You were not,” I tease, snatching the book out of her hand. “Love in the Highlands.” I wave the tawdry novel in front of her as if it were evidence.
“Oh, sit down, you.” She snatches the book back and taps me over the head with it. “What’s new? How is school? I’ve got a little surprise brewing for you in”—she checks her watch—“just about half an hour.” She bites down on a smile as if it pained her not to blow it.
“Sounds good. I can use a surprise or two right about now.” I’m betting it’s that roast she’s got in the oven. My stomach growls just waiting for the time to tick by.
“You’ll get one all right.” She pinches my cheek extra hard while looking me over. My mother and her red Irish hair, her hazel eyes. Steph looked so much like Mom. In pictures at the same age, they could have passed for twins. I once told Steph that if she wanted to know what she would look like in thirty years, all she needed to do was look at Mom. Steph protested the idea, saying she would never cut her hair and sport the menopause bob. I laughed when she said it, and I didn’t even know what she meant at the time.
“So tell me,Mr. Hot Basketball Stuff”—she motions for me to take a seat next to her—“what’s going on at that school of yours?”
“I am hot stuff.” I give a little wink. “Not really. Everything on the court is going well, but everyone on the team is pretty good so it’s to be expected. We’ll be hard to beat, that’s for sure.”
“And off the court?” She ticks her head to the side, honing that motherly intuition. She picks up the book and waves it at me. “What about the girls?” She offers a slight nod as if prodding me to say something she already knows.
Ava settles in my mind, in my heart with her ever-present beauty. “I think I’m feeling things.” And just like that, the granite wall that’s been holding me under begins to lift right off my chest.
“Feeling things?” She wiggles her fingers as if a ghost were in the vicinity, and oddly enough, I feel closest to Steph whenever I’m home so maybe there is. I’m hoping she’s here, listening. I’d love to tell her all about Ava. “So, does this special someone know about these feelings?”
Special someone. That describes Ava to a T.
“No, not yet. I just didn’t think I’d be ready to jump back into things so quickly.” I never did share with Mom about what transpired between Darcy and me—about the fact that we’ve demoted ourselves to a platonic level. We’ve been friends longer than we were anything else. “I thought I’d take a breather, but now that I’ve been around her, I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“Goodness!” She swats me with a tissue before blotting her eyes. “I knew it would happen. Nobody deserves to be happy more than you, Grant. Do you love her?”
“Love her?” That went quick. “I don’t know. I guess I haven’t really thought about it like that.” Ava and that beautiful smile—my heart aches just knowing I’ve hurt her in some way. “I care about her deeply.” I’d say I love her, but I think I’d spook both my mother and me. “Verydeeply. I’d like to see where things go.” There. I said it. “You’ve been married to Dad forever now. How do you know when you’ve met the right person?” I’m talking in generalities, but I can see the wedding bells in my mother’s eyes.
“Oh, honey!” Her body sags as the joy in her eyes soars. I can tell she’s holding back. She’s happy for me, and the only way she can express it is through tears. That’s been our insular go-to emotion ever since Steph died, so it makes sense. “How do you know?” She looks off in the distance as if collecting her thoughts. “Well, there’s the obvious—you want to be around that person day in and day out.” Her eyes meet up with mine. “But I think you’ll truly know you’re in love when you’re afraid of losing her.” She waves it off as quickly as she said it. “To someone else.”
I give a silent nod just thinking about how much it hurts to think of losing Ava. And to Rush? Could I handle that? Rush and I grew up together. He’s an extension of me at this point. Our shared childhoods, our shared losses. He’s my brother through and through. Could I ever really be happy for them? What if Rush wants that? What if Ava does?
Our conversation twists and turns until we’re shooting the breeze about Dad and his golf game when a light female voice calls from the side yard.
“Knock, knock!”
We turn at the same time, and I’m stunned to see Darcy staining the fence like a shadow.
Mom gives a spontaneous applause. “And here she is! The big surprise!”
Crap.
“Hope you don’t mind.” Darcy winces as if I might give her the boot.
“Not at all.” I’ve always said there’s everything to gain and nothing to lose by being friends. Only right now, I’m feeling a little less friendly and a little more like cutting my losses.
“Were your ears burning?” Mom sings as she ushers Darcy into the seat across from me. “Grant and I were just talking about you.”
“We were?” I stumble over my thoughts. Of course. Mom thinks the girl I’m having feelings toward is sitting in our midst. Shit.
The next few hours squeak by, but all I can think of, all I want to do, is be near Ava.
Another week driftsby with no sign of Ava. All of my texts go unanswered, all of my hopes shatter right along with them. Friday night, there’s a mixer at the frat house, and I happen to know that these kinds of events are mandatory for new pledges. And for the first time ever, I’m thankful Ava is a new pledge.
I take my time in the shower, put on my jeans and WB sweatshirt, not a suit like some of the guys will be wearing. That’s too uptight. Not a pop-up collar like Rush likes to sport. I need this to be casual. I need to be casual just to hold myself together while in the same room with her. One thing I know, this night isn’t ending without me laying it all on the line. I’m not sure what I’ll say when the time comes, but I’m hoping whatever it is it doesn’t send her running.
By the time I head downstairs, a fair amount of bodies are already circulating around the room. The girls look nice, most of them in dresses and heels, and now I’m rethinking this whole sweatshirt thing.
Lawson flags me over. “What’s with the face?” He tries to hand me a beer, but I don’t take it.
“No face—just looking.” I do a quick sweep of the room, and my eyes catch on a gorgeous brunette. That smile that’s bright enough to light up the night sky goes off, and both my heart and soul sink to my feet. She’s with him. Rush has his hands over her back, drifting lower as their conversation goes on. “Shit.”
