“And I wouldn’t let him anyway.” Ava’s hands moved to my shoulders, her fingers digging in.
Max sighed loudly then sat down on the bed, Ava sinking slightly towards him as the mattress sloped. “I’m not going to go downstairs and announce it,” he said. “I’m not Seph or Callum. And who you date, or whatever you call it, is your business, Ava.” The look he gave his sister was tender rather than annoyed.
“This is just fun, Maxwell,” she said, her hands still on me. “I don’t want everyone getting excited that…”
“You’ve finally found someone to be serious with?” he said, raising his brows. “Ava, we’ll still take the piss out of whatever you do, but we know you’re an adult.” Then he glared at me. “Do anything to her that she doesn’t want and I swear to god I’ll execute you in the Tower of London myself. I’ll say no more.”
“We’ll be down in a minute,” I said, unmoved by his words. If I’d caught a man with one of my sisters I’d have said something similar.
Max stood up, the mattress righting itself. “Seph’s made a couple of loud comments about where you both are. People suspect.”
“We’ll be down in a minute,” I repeated.
He gave a mock salute and exited. I looked at Ava, trying to read her expression, see if she was annoyed at being outed. “That wasn’t ideal,” I said. “But Max won’t gossip.”
“I know,” she said. “Where were we up to?”
By the time we made it back downstairs, I was ready for another shower. A cold one. Ava looked flushed, her reapplied lipstick not doing much to make her look like we had only been exploring the house instead of each other. She’d surprised me today; offering to come with me when I saw my sisters and the lack of denial when Max saw us together. I wondered if she was feeling something more than just attraction and that we might be more than a couple of dates and a few nights together.
The open plan kitchen was still packed with people and food. Seph was loading his plate with the remains of the roast potatoes and meat. Callum looked as if he had half a cheesecake and I wondered if I’d been as fucking inconsistent a few years back with almost binge eating and then killing myself at the gym for the next week and a half.
“You jealous of my sugar intake?” Callum said, noticing the stare I was giving his plate.
“Honestly? No. I’ll have a slice later, but that’s insane. You’re going to send your insulin levels into overdrive,” I said, wondering how he was going to eat all of what was there without being sick.
“Yep. I’ll eat like this and feel like shit for the next forty-eight, but it’ll be worth it.”
“It won’t be for the rest of us who have to listen to you moan about how crap you feel,” I said. Since Callum had been back home from looking after animals somewhere hot and sunnier than London, he’d been my regular gym partner. He was good to train with, especially when Seph wasn’t there as the two of them liked to compete. Their competition was amusing for most people, but fucking irritating if you were trying to properly train.
Callum used a fork to lift a large piece of cheesecake towards his mouth, but my attention was stolen by Ava, whose expression was one of panic.
I was next to her in two strides, my hand on her back and not giving a shit if anyone noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“Dad,” she said. “Look at Killian. And Payts.”
I did. I saw the drooping of Grant Callaghan’s face and heard the slur of his words. I saw Payton looking terrified trying to speak to her father and noticed Killian’s focused expression. The fear inside me blended with the atmosphere in the room.
“What’s happening?” Ava said. “What’s happening to my dad?”
There was movement between the rooms, quiet, efficient movement. The calm was like thin ice on top of a deep lake: about to break at any second with everyone treading carefully. Claire and Eliza were ushered out of the room, the tension bothering the baby. Payton had gone into organiser mode, her go-to state when she wasn’t sure of what to do. Killian had phoned an ambulance; Max was talking to his father about rugby. Everyone was pretending to ignore what was happening in the hope of not cracking the ice. Grant was in the middle, looking confused at what was going on.
“What’s happened?” Ava said. “Elijah, what’s happened?” Her large blue eyes were brimming with tears and the tough boss and businesswoman had melted away. “Has he had a stroke?”
“A mini-stroke,” Killian said. “I think. The paramedics are on their way. I know it’s worrying but this is just a warning and the hospital will be able to help.”
Ava nodded and I stopped giving a shit about what anyone else thought and put my hands on her waist, pulling her in so her back was to my chest. I pressed my chin to her shoulder. “He’s going to be fine. We’ll follow the ambulance to the hospital and you can see him there.”
I felt her rest into me and I tightened my hold. No one was paying us any attention but even if they were now wouldn’t be the time to care.
“I’m scared,” she said, her voice a whisper. “He’s my dad.”
“He’ll be fine,” Callum’s voice sounded from behind us. “He’s tough.” There was an edge to his tone that was different, a sharp slice to his words.
Ava turned slightly in my arms so she could see her brother, but kept her hands on me so I couldn’t let go. “He’s not as tough as you think,” she said.
“Trust me, he is.” Callum looked towards Grant, his expression was steely.
I felt Ava stiffen, her back become tense. “Do you want a lift to the hospital?” I said to Callum.
