by KT Shears
She had thought of Shay a lot that day, his face swimming into her mind when she closed her eyes. He was totally unwelcome there. She knew she didn’t love him anymore, but the hurt she felt was almost as raw as the day of the magazine. If she dwelled on it for any length of time, she would cry. She shook her head, drawing her knees up to her chest. What had it been about him that had hurt her so badly? She knew, of course. It was that she had utterly given herself to him, trusted in him and them with every fibre of her being. The betrayal that followed had shattered her, shattered her ability to trust anyone, even her own feelings. She hated that she could still end up, huddled up on the sofa, feeling like crying about it when it was a year on.
She jumped at the knock on the door and creased her brow. No one ever came round to her house. She hated unexpected visitors – even Elise would text first. She hauled herself off the sofa, carefully placing her book on the coffee table so as not to lose her place.
She padded across to the door and opened it, curious as to who would be on the other side. Her jaw dropped. It was tattoo guy from the other night.
Chapter four
Asher had no idea what he was doing there. He had left the bar with the intention of going home, and he had hailed a cab. But when the driver asked him where he was going, for some reason the address he had been to the other night, Ava’s address, tumbled from his lips.
He had been thinking about her a lot over the past few days, even with how busy had been with test driving and promotional stuff. It surprised him how much the tattooed beauty had been in his head. He never usually thought of women after they had been together – he would just move on to the next one – but he had found himself lying in bed remembering the soft curves of her body, the sensuous pout of her lips. Oh, and, of course, that rose tattoo.
And now here he was, knocking on the door. He wasn’t even drunk – he’d only had a couple of beers.
When the door opened, he was surprised to see Ava was in her pyjamas. Wasn’t it only like 9pm? She still looked fucking gorgeous though. Her hair was in a loose ponytail that she’d twisted onto the top of her head and she was wearing a pair of little black-rimmed glasses. She looked like a sexy secretary. Asher reconsidered. Maybe more like an angry teacher, the way she was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him.
‘What do you want?’
Asher knew coming there had been a mistake. Hell, he knew it had been a mistake when he stepped out of the cab. What had he been thinking? But he was here now and he was damned if he was going to let her embarrass him again.
‘Round two?’ he said, and then held up his hand as she started to close the door. ‘Woah, woah, sorry.’
Ava paused, glowering at him. Man she looked hot when she was angry. Asher didn’t even know why she was angry – any other woman he had met would have been delighted if he had suddenly turned up at their door.
‘Can I come in? Just for a second.’
Ava seemed to consider and then stood back, letting him inside.
‘You’ve got five minutes,’ she said. And she even looked at the clock on the wall. Damn, this girl was a ballbreaker. Asher was tempted just to leave, was it worth the hassle? Then he remembered her body and the night – well, couple of hours – they had spent together. It was worth being glared at. Now, how he was he going to convince this woman to let him back in her bed?
***
Ava tried to remain calm but her heart was pounding. What was he doing here? She hadn’t had a chance to forget how gorgeous he was – she had seen him that day on TV, after all – but she was still knocked for six by her body’s reaction to him. He was bad news, she told herself, but she had stood back and let him enter the room. She knew that was a bad sign.
As he stepped inside, she wished suddenly she wasn’t wearing pyjamas and glasses, and that she had done something with her hair. But how was she to know he would turn up at her door?
‘I’m sorry for coming by unannounced,’ he said, running a hand through his hair. God he was gorgeous.
‘What do you want?’ Ava asked, fully aware she probably sounded like a bitch. But he shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be in her living room, standing so close to her.
Asher seemed to hesitate and Ava made to move towards the door.
‘Wait,’ he said. ‘I just…I felt weird about the way things ended the other night.’ He shrugged, his broad shoulders rippling. Ava licked her lips.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
Asher looked like he was blushing a little, and she realised that underneath the cool exterior, he was feeling a bit uncomfortable. That made her feel better a little.
‘I mean you rushing me out the door before I even had a chance to learn your last name. Or get you into the bedroom.’
Yikes, Ava thought. The idea of a second round was quite appealing. But there was no way she was letting this guy into her life, and if that meant he couldn’t get into your bed, then tough. She softened a little, though. There was no need to be rude to the guy, after all. In fact, it was almost flattering.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ she said, realising she didn’t sound particularly sorry at all. ‘But I had stuff to do, and it was just a one-night thing, right?’
‘Sure,’ Asher said, holding up a hand. ‘But I had a good time, and I thought maybe we could do the whole one-night thing for a second night.’
Ava had to repress a smile at the roguish grin that crossed his face.
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ she said, shaking her head. She had to admit, he was quite charming. But then she remembered him on TV, the caption under his name, and it was like she had been doused with cold water.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, moving over the door. ‘It was nice to meet you, Mr Carter.’
She could see Asher’s brow furrow. Shit, she shouldn’t know his last name, he hadn’t told her. She watched as he moved across to the door and lingered, as if he wanted to say something. And then he turned and was gone.
Ava closed the door behind him and sat on the sofa. What the hell had just happened?
***
Asher trudged along the road, his hands in his pockets. He didn’t know what he had expected from the visit, but it hadn’t been to get chucked out for a second time. Man, that girl was tough. He shook his head to himself. And how had she known his last name? She hadn’t struck him as a racing groupie – a racing groupie would have thrown open the door and been butt naked in about 10 seconds flat.
He had thought he had been getting through to her. He’d seen her to try hide a smile. But then it was as if a shadow had passed across her face and something inside her had shut down. What was her deal?
And what was his deal, more to the point…Why was he chasing around a piece of skirt who didn’t even want to see him? That wasn’t him. He had plenty of girls he could call if he needed a bit of fun. He thought back to the other night, though. None of them could give him that much fun. That night had really been something.
He thought for a moment, stopping and standing, breathing in the warm Monaco air. On the one hand, he wasn’t sure his personal pride could take repeated blows like the ones he had received over the last few days. On the other hand… Asher Carter didn’t give up. He hadn’t made it to Formula One by giving up when things got tough. He loved a challenge, and Ava was just that.
He had taken a look at the nameplate on her door when he had left her apartment. Her last name was Duval. Ava Duval. He rolled the name around his mouth. It was a sexy name, to match the sexy body. So he had her name. He didn’t think turning up at her door was a good idea – he would cross over into the realms of stalker, and he didn’t want to come across as creepy. But perhaps, if he was smart about it…
He fished in his pocket and brought out his phone, pressing the speed dial button which would connect him to his agent. Colin answered on the third ring – he was never off duty.
‘Colin, it’s Asher. Listen, I need a favour and it’s a bit of a
weird one.’
‘Asher, you aren’t the only driver I manage. I guarantee you I’ve heard weirder.’
Asher laughed and thought that was probably true. Some of his fellow drivers were total nutcases. They probably demanded 12 virgins in their hotel rooms after every race.
‘I need you to do a bit of digging on someone,’ he said, carefully. ‘Her name is Ava Duval and I want to know what she does for a living.’
‘That is a bit weird,’ Colin admitted and Asher laughed. ‘Can’t you just check Facebook and LinkedIn for her?’
Asher hated social media. He didn’t have a Facebook account, and he didn’t even know what LinkedIn was.
‘C’mon Colin, you know I’m a technophobe.’
‘Fine.’ Colin sighed. ‘I’ll call you when I have something.’
Grinning, Asher hung up.
He resumed walking when his phone buzzed again. That was quick.
‘Col?’
‘No, it’s Devlin.’
There was an awkward silence. He hadn’t spoken to his brother since the argument the previous week, and he had assumed he wouldn’t hear from him for a while.
‘What’s up, Dev?’
He heard Devlin sigh down the line. Asher couldn’t be bothered with his self-indulgent bullshit. He had been putting up with it for his entire life.
He remembered when they were kids. Devlin was older than him by about three years, and Asher was pretty sure he had resented the arrival of his baby brother. One of his earliest memories was Devlin standing over his cot, and repeatedly poking him in the arm until he cried.
It hadn’t got much better when they were at school. Asher was a quiet kid, not like Devlin. Devlin was the class clown – he didn’t care much for academic work, but he had a huge posse of friends who he strutted around the playground with. Asher didn’t have much patience for other people and preferred his own company, reading his racing magazines and annuals. They were both racing by then, just children’s go-karting, and in different age groups, but they were still fiercely competitive and Asher knew Devlin hated the idea that his little brother might end up being better at something than him.
He felt sorry for their parents. They must have hoped that having two boys fairly close together would ensure they would become best friends, partners in crime. Instead, they got two boys who bickered constantly, often descending into actual fights. He remembered one day when he must have been about 13, and Devlin 16. They had just been at a weekend-long race weekend, his dad getting up at the crack of dawn to drive them 150km to the track. Devlin had lost his race and Asher had won, and as their dad packed up the car to leave, Devlin had shoved Asher, hard. Asher had seen red and suddenly the pair were punching and kicking each other.
Their father tried to pull them apart, but they were big boys now, and he struggled. Eventually he managed, though, and as the boys stood there, panting, Asher saw how tired his father looked, how drained and exhausted. He felt awful and from then on, he avoided Devlin as much as possible. Now they were grown-up, Devlin had drifted away from his family, preferring the company of his new glamorous set of companions. Not his wife, though. Poor Flick.
‘Dev?’
‘Flick left me.’
Asher was astounded, and he felt like high-fiving the unfortunate Flick. The shit she had put up with over the three years she had been married to Devlin must have been extreme. He had only met her a couple of times – once at the lavish wedding they had held. She had seemed nice. Not his type, particularly, but clearly beautiful and she obviously adored Devlin. But Asher had known then that their marriage wouldn’t be a happy one. He knew Devlin, and Devlin loved women. He had felt sad as he kissed her on the cheek and said congratulations, knowing that within months, her heart would be broken and Devlin wouldn’t even care.
‘Oh, sorry, man,’ was all Asher could think to say.
‘I’m not calling cos I want your sympathy,’ Devlin snapped. Asher rolled his eyes. Yep, his brother was a peach.
‘Then what do you want?’
‘I need you to tell mom and dad.’
Asher blinked. Was he serious?
‘What? Why? I’m not doing your dirty work for you, Dev.’
‘Fuck’s sake, Asher, can’t you ever stop being a total dick? Mom will flip when she finds out – I already had a shitty phone call with her last week when she accused me of being an alcoholic, and now when she finds out Flick is gone...’
Asher thought Devlin perhaps was becoming an alcoholic, if the pictures of him splashed all the gossip magazines were anything to go by. He was always drunk and falling out of a club, women hanging off his arm. He shook his head. No wonder Flick had left him.
‘Dev, you called me up last week calling me every name under the sun, and now you want me to be the one to tell mom your wife finally grew the balls to leave you?’
‘Fuck you, Ash.’ And Devlin hung up.
***
Ava lay in bed, her thoughts spinning around like a whirlpool. She couldn’t believe Asher had turned up at her door like that, it was insane. It was like something from a movie – she wasn’t sure if it was a bad movie or a good movie, though. He had looked good. Better than good; he had looked amazing.
The minute she had opened the door – once the initial shock had faded – she was transported back to the other night. The way his muscular arms had gripped her body, the way his full lips had kissed her neck, breasts, thighs. She had been very tempted to let him in and do what he wanted with her. But she couldn’t, could she?
She shifted in bed and thought about the first night she had spent with Shay. The sex had been good, but not like it had been with Asher. Maybe if you just had sex with someone and nothing else, the sex was of a higher quality, she thought. But could she have sex with him again and not feel at least some emotional tie? She had managed the other night fine, but what if she had let him into her home again, into her bed, and then fell for him. No, she had done the right thing. He was bad news.
Chapter five
‘Asher? It’s Colin. Look I think I’ve found out what you wanted to know.’
Asher leaned forward, holding the phone to his ear. He shot a look at Felipe on the sofa beside him swigging from a beer bottle. He hadn’t told him about the latest development. He could only imagine the size of the grin on the little man’s face when he told him Ava had thrown him out for a second time. Why was she in his head so much? It was insane. He never usually thought about girls, and especially not with all the pre-season race stuff he had going on. So why, every time he closed his eyes, did he see Ava’s perfect body?
‘Hit me with it.’
‘Okay, Ms Duval is a public relations specialist who works at Madison Flare PR. They’re a big global organisation with offices around the world – London, New York, Milan, Monaco…’
Asher recognised the name. They were a big firm, and apparently one of the best. So this Ava girl was smart.
‘Nice one, Col.’
Asher was about to hang up, and deliberate his next move, when his agent spoke again.
‘That’s not all,’ he said.
‘No?’ Asher said, puzzled.
‘It turns out Madison Flare are organising a charity benefit tomorrow night. There’s a lot of big names going. And, well, I did a bit of digging and I found out Ms Duval will be attending.’
‘Oh?’ Asher didn’t see of what relevance this was to him, but he wanted to be polite.
‘So,’ Colin said, sounding proud. ‘I’ve managed to wheedle you an invitation.’
Asher blinked.
‘To the benefit?’
‘Sure,’ Colin said. ‘They were thrilled when they heard racing’s newest big thing wanted to come along; they said it would be excellent publicity.’
Asher shook his head. That meant he would have cameras in his face and have to schmooze. But it also meant he could see Ava again, and try to convince her to give him another go. And he bet she would be dressed up in some stunning outfi
t. He licked his lips at the thought.
‘Well, ok, thanks, Colin. That’s really good of you.’
‘Oh you’ve got a plus-one if you wanted to take anyone.’
‘A plus-one?’ Asher regretted saying that instantly as Felipe’s head jerked up and the little man stared at him, curiously.
‘Yep, so bring a girl. Or Felipe,’ Colin said, laughing uproariously. ‘I’ll text you the details.’ And the he hung up.
Asher lowered the phone from his ear, reluctant to look at Felipe and have to answer the 20 questions. One of which he knew would be ‘Can I come?’. He was not taking Felipe to a charity benefit. No, sirree.
***
Ava drummed her fingers on the keyboard as she watched the clock slowly tick down. She was leaving early today so she had time to get ready for the charity benefit that evening. She didn’t much like these black-tie events, but they were part and parcel of working in public relations for a firm like Madison Flare. They had a lot of sports stars on their books, although Ava avoided taking on any of those accounts and stuck to politicians and businessmen, and sports stars were always in demand at these kind of things.
She thought back to the morning, when she had reluctantly told Elise what had happened the night before. Elise could see straight through her and knew she was out of sorts; refusing to give up until Ava told her what was wrong.
‘The racing driver came to your door?’ Elise looked impressed. ‘Wow, he must like you.’
Ava shook her head quickly, feeling panicky even at the thought of it.
‘I think he was just drunk and thought I would be an easy option.’ She knew she was lying – he hadn’t been drunk. There had been just the faintest aroma of beer, but he definitely hadn’t been drunk.
‘Oh, come on, Ava,’ Elise said, rolling her eyes at her friend. ‘He’s just signed some mega-bucks contract with a Formula One team. The women must be lining up for him.’