I turned, but before I took the first step, Josh grabbed the hood of my coat and tugged me backward. “Wait!”
I flipped around, slapping his hand away. Before he could speak, I held up my hands. “Just! I don’t want to cause a scene. I know. This,” I said, gesturing to his underwear, “is your thing, and we just broke up. You running to fuck something to feel better isn’t surprising.”
“Ouch,” he said, struggling to focus. His eyes were rimmed with red, his face blotchy. “I guess I can see why you’d assume that, but you really think I’d do that on your birthday? C’mon, Avery, give me a little bit of credit.”
I nodded once. “Sorry,” I said, and then began to turn for the stairs.
“Avery?” he said. I stopped. “Did you see my car outside?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you come in here looking for me?”
I hesitated, but it was better when we didn’t pretend. “Yes.”
His voice was low and controlled. He was being careful. “I didn’t sleep with Ginger. She just brought me upstairs to sleep off the whiskey. I came here looking for you, too. That should tell us something, right?”
“Who is it?” Ginger asked, poking her wet hair and bare shoulders out of the bathroom, a thin yellow towel wrapped around her.
I looked at her, and then to Josh, devastation settling heavily in my chest.
He held out his hands, shaking his head, desperation in his eyes. “Baby …”
A half-smile quivered on my face. I began to speak, but there was nothing left to say, so I simply turned around and jogged down the stairs, running across the bar. My keys jingled as I readied them to unlock the car, and while I fumbled for the right key at my door, Josh yelped.
“Ow! Fuck!” He hopped on one bare foot, holding the other, still in his T-shirt and boxer briefs.
I finally found the key and twisted the lock, opening the door.
“Avery!” Josh barked. “Fucking wait!”
A handful of people in the parking lot turned toward the scene he was making. I cowered under their curious eyes.
Josh pointed at me as he limped over the rocks. “Don’t you open that fucking door, Jacobs!”
I stood tall, exasperated. “Why not? We’re obviously not good for each other, Josh. What the hell were we thinking?”
He carefully navigated the gravel under his tender feet, breathing hard when he finally made it to the Dodge. He pushed on the hood to support some of his weight, his breaths puffing out in quick, transparent clouds.
“That I love you,” he panted. “I love you, and I wouldn’t do that.” He pointed up toward Ginger’s upstairs apartment. “It never crossed my mind. All I think about is you. Do you hear me, Avery? There is no one else. There will never be anyone else. You can shove that necklace down my throat and laugh while I choke on it, and I still wouldn’t run out to fuck someone else. The only thing that will make me feel better …” He panted, his face tinged with a pale shade of green. “… is you.”
He shook his head, grabbing his knees as he tried to catch his breath, and then he heaved, expelling everything in his stomach.
“Jesus,” I said, watching the liquor and whatever else splatter on the ground.
He heaved again, and I awkwardly patted his back.
A creaky, dirty yellow cab pulled into the parking lot, the tires crunching against the gravel. The window rolled down and I smiled, surprised.
“Mel!”
“I thought you might need another ride.”
“I’m sober. I’m giving him the ride.”
Josh glanced up to see the wrinkled veteran staring down at him with a frown and then heaved again. “You’re taking me home?” Josh asked.
I reached into my pocket, giving Mel the money I owed him.
Mel narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?” he rasped.
“The money I owe you. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long.”
He waved me away, unimpressed.
“Please,” I said, holding out the bill.
He snatched it out of my hand. “You sure you don’t need a ride? You might need a chaperone with this one.”
Ginger ran out in a robe and fuzzy boots, carrying his pants, hoodie, and wallet. “We didn’t do anything!” she yelled across the parking lot. “Don’t leave!” When she reached us, she noticed the puddle of vomit on the ground and made a face, holding the backs of her fingers to her nose. “Oh, gross. I’m so sorry. I knew better than to let him drink that much.”
Josh made another hurling sound and more liquid came up.
“How much did he drink?” I asked, helping to steady him.
“I’d have to look at his tab. Pretty sure he spent his whole paycheck.”
“Pussy,” Mel grumbled, lifting up his hat and then pulling it back down. He pulled his shifter down. “You still got my card, sweetheart?”
“Still got it,” I said with a smile.
Mel pulled away and Josh vomited again, this time leaning so far over he almost fell face-first into the puddle below.
“Damn it, Josh,” I scolded him, rubbing my palm against the tensed muscles of his back.
His arm shot out and he held my leg, spitting and groaning.
“Avery,” Ginger said. I looked up at her. “We didn’t. I couldn’t let him drive. I did pull off his jeans because he’d spilled a shot on them and they stunk and I didn’t want it on my sheets. But if you go upstairs and look, you’ll see that I’d made me a pallet on the couch.”
I looked at Josh, unconvinced.
“I know how he feels about you,” Ginger said. “I wouldn’t do that to him.”
“And,” Josh said, still bent over.
Ginger smiled and rolled her eyes, handing me his things. “And Michaels tried to persuade him several times that she was ready if he was willing, and he made it clear he was only going home with you.”
“You’re a good boy after all,” I said, running my hand over his back in a small circle.
He swallowed. “Yes, but if you keep doing that, I’m going to puke again.”
“Sorry,” I said, grabbing his arm and reaching around his back to guide him.
“Where are we going?” Josh asked.
“I’m taking you home,” I said, walking him to the passenger side of my car.
Ginger winked at me before walking back to the bar.
“Ginger,” I called after her. She stopped, her hand on the door as she turned around. “Thanks for taking care of him.”
Her smile grew, and she nodded before disappearing inside the bar. I slid into the driver side, looking to my right. Josh had already leaned his seat back, his arm thrown over his eyes.
I leaned over, covering him with his hoodie.
He peeked at me with one eye. “I wish I didn’t feel like shit. I so want to hold you right now.”
“Shower and toothpaste first, then I’ll think about it,” I said, pulling the gear into drive.
Josh reached over, feeling blindly until he found my hand and then squeezed. “Thank God,” he whispered, pure relief in his voice. “Thank God.”
It had been seven weeks and four days since I thought I was going to lose the one person in the world who saw me—the real me.
That moment was enough to make me realize I should definitely never take eight shots of hard liquor on an empty stomach, but more importantly, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this girl.
I wanted to prove I was serious and committed to her, but I knew it would take more than a penny, even though since the second she’d put it back on, she’d cherished that necklace as if it were one of the queen’s jewels.
“I can’t believe you’re going to propose, man.” Quinn glanced over at me from the driver seat of the ambulance with a grin on his face.
“Like you haven’t thought about it,” I shot back. The wagon rocked back and forth after Quinn hit a pothole too fast, and I reached for the overhead handle.
“What Deb and I have is different.”
“Judging by that weird fucking swing she had you put in your bedroom, I’d have to agree with you.”
We laughed, but it did little to settle my nerves as the diamond ring I’d picked out for Avery burned a hole in my pocket.
I’d never pictured myself settling down with anyone, but now it felt like the world would crash and burn around me if she didn’t say yes. Why was I so scared?
Quinn’s expression turned serious. “Can I ask you something? Something you may not like?”
I frowned. “Sure.”
“What’s your hurry, brother? It’s been what … six months?”
“I don’t know. It’s like an itch in a place I can’t quite reach. It’s this vague worry in the back of my head. It’s always there.”
“Like what?” Quinn asked, his nose wrinkling.
“That if I don’t nail this down, she’s going to disappear. Sometimes, when I’m lying in bed with her, I feel like she’s there, but she’s not. Like it’s literally too good to be true.”
“That’s just your insecurities talking, man. Avery is in love with you. She sees how much you’ve changed. She knows you think this is something special.”
I shook my head. “That’s not it, Quinn. I know she loves me. I’m not worried about her.”
“Then what?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Like something’s just on the edge, waiting to fuck things up. Something out of my control.”
“You can quit worrying, Josh. We control nothing.”
I grimaced. “You’re not making me feel any better.”
Quinn took one hand off the wheel and slapped my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. She’s going to say yes and you’ll live happily ever after.”
“Hey,” I said, pulling his hand off me. “Keep your hand on the wheel.”
He sighed and shook his head. “It’s already started.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m your first partner, so I get why you don’t see it. See, the guys start out here, and they inevitably find a serious girlfriend, because—” he popped his collar “—the uniform gets ‘em wet.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Then the worry starts. They quit running toward the burning cars, they start wearing their seat belt, they start saying pussy things like ‘Keep your eyes on the road, Quinn,’” he said, lowering his voice. “Like before you got engaged or had a kid you didn’t have anything to live for.”
“I didn’t.”
“Psh. Pussy.”
I smiled, never so grateful for an insult.
My shift ended, and I hurried over to Benched for a workout. Lifting always helped clear my head, but even after an hour and sweat pouring from my body, my head was still consumed by thoughts of Avery. It had been that way for weeks, which was why I bought the ring. Nerve-racked or not, I had to make it official, had to make her mine. I just needed it to be perfect.
With my thoughts overrun by planning for our future, I hurried back to my apartment to prepare dinner, knowing Avery would be too tired to cook when she finished her shift.
I’d picked up a few groceries the day before. Now that Avery had been spending more nights at my place, I tried to keep more in the fridge. Unfortunately, I lacked any real cooking skills, so I was attempting to make spaghetti, which didn’t look like it could be that hard.
I was just dishing the noodles onto plates when Avery walked in the door with a groan. Her ponytail had slid down to the nape of her neck, and dark circles shadowed the underneath of her eyes, but she still looked beautiful in her peach scrubs.
“That shift was never-ending,” she huffed as she kicked off her sneakers. She padded her way to the kitchen, rising up on her toes to kiss my cheek.
“I hope you worked up an appetite.”
“Mmm … what’s that smell?”
“That’s not very nice. Dax can’t help his … aroma.”
Avery laughed, shaking her head. “I thought you couldn’t cook?”
“I figured it was time I learned.” I grabbed both of our paper plates and carried them into the living room, placing them on the coffee table. “We need to get a real table.”
Avery looked at me sideways with an amused smirk before she picked up her fork and began to spin the noodles. “A table? You don’t even have real plates.”
“Neither do you.” I elbowed her lightly, taking a bite of my food. Damn, I’m not a bad cook after all. “Maybe we can buy a set at The Kitchen Store this weekend.”
“Plates?”
“Why not? Normal people have dishes. They also have this really cool silverware made out of metal.”
“Yeah.” She breathed out a laugh. “But those people live together, Josh.”
“You’re right. We can move your stuff in this weekend. I can get Quinn to help. We can get dishes and a table next weekend. And a strainer. You don’t even want to know what I had to do to strain the noodles,” I said, hoping to God she didn’t freak out.
Avery dropped her fork, her mouth gaping open. “Seriously?”
“I mean, I’d have to ask him first, but he wouldn’t mind helping out if he doesn’t have plans with Deb.”
“So, you’re going to ask Quinn. How about asking me first?”
My heart felt like it seized. I slowly turned to her, swallowing hard. “Avery,” I began, nervous as hell. “Move in with me.”
She placed her small hands on either side of my face. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“My apartment is at least ten years younger. How about you move in with me?”
“Yeah,” I said without hesitation.
“Maybe we should think about this for a week or so. We shouldn’t make a decision like this without really thinking it over.”
“Avery, I’ve thought about it. A lot.”
“You have?”
“You haven’t?” I asked, feeling nervous all over again.
“It’s a big step.”
“I know this is what I want. I don’t wanna waste any more time.”
“Living together can really be hard on a relationship.”
“I’m starting to wonder if it’s you who isn’t sure about us.”
“It’s not us I’m unsure of. It’s the living together, family … the entire idea just makes me nervous. I don’t have a lot of good experience with family.”
“You have me,” I said, feeling hurt. Avery was all the family I’d ever needed, and as far as I was concerned, we already were. “We can make family a good memory for us, Avery. I thought that’s what we’ve been doing.”
Her shoulders sank. This was so unlike Avery that I wasn’t sure what to do. I had known from the beginning a relationship with me scared her, but after everything, I’d thought we were past that.
I lifted her chin with my finger, forcing her to look me in the eye. “What can I do?
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not giving up, so tell me what I need to do to make you okay with this.”
“There’s so much we don’t know about each other. I haven’t even met your parents.”
I visibly cringed. I wasn’t expecting that at all. “Avery, that’s not a good idea.”
“Are you ashamed of me?” she asked.
“What? No, hell no,” I said.
“Then why?”
“It’s hard to explain,” I said.
“Something I’d have to see for myself?” she asked.
I closed my eyes. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“How are we supposed to live together if you don’t trust me to love you? I’m not going to judge you because of your parents, Josh. I know you don’t judge me because of mine.”
My eyebrows pulled in. “Your parents died, Avery. How could I judge you for that?”
“Because I lived, and they didn’t.”
I blinked then shook my head. “Don’t say that. It was an accident.”
“So was ours, but it’s still my fault. Don’t thi
nk I don’t remember pulling out on a red light.”
“Stop,” I said, watching her eyes gloss over. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for either. What good would it have done if you’d died with your parents? They wouldn’t have wanted that, Avery.”
“I know,” she said, picking at her nails. “But I thought you’d understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Feeling guilty. We were both kids.”
I stood. “Oh, no. You can’t compare the two. And this isn’t about me.”
She reached for me, but missed.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Bring up my sister to avoid talking about your parents.” I felt my cheeks warm, and I began to pace. It was a strange feeling, wanting to hold her and walk out at the same time.
She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“You sure?”
She blinked, looking around the room, as if the answer were in the corners. “I would be a horrible person if I were.”
“You’ve been doing it your whole life, Avery. I know exactly how it is. I don’t blame you, but you have to stop.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking.
“You don’t like talking about them. You’ve barely said a word about them, but you can talk to me.”
“What else should I say?”
“That you miss them. How it affects your life now. How it affects us.”
She lifted her hands and let them slap against her thighs. “I miss them. Being forced to let them go made it impossible to hold on to anything. I could let go of Deb, my job. I could let go of you—right now, if I wanted—and not bat an eye.” She covered her mouth, shocked at her own admission.
A shot of adrenaline rushed through me. “Avery …” My teeth clenched. “Do you love me?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
Every one of my muscles relaxed, and then I pointed at her phone. “Call work. You’ll need a four-day weekend.”
Her hands slowly lowered from her face. “Why?”
“I’m taking you to Savannah to meet my parents.”
Avery was fidgeting with her yellow skirt that hung just below her knees. She was nervous about meeting my mother, and the icy road conditions did little to calm her fears.
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