“I don’t usually eat stuff like that,” I said, rather regretfully.
He raised an eyebrow. “Just this once?”
Gage took a bite, the chocolate smearing over his mouth. I felt another stab of want, for both Gage and the brownie. Or both at once.
“You’ve convinced me.”
Later, when our mouths met again, the taste of chocolate mixed between us. The kisses were velvety and hot and we begged each other for more. It was a long time before the flavor left my tongue, and even longer before it left my memory.
Chapter Sixteen
While I was just beginning to fall, Lacey was already deep in love. She hadn’t told Eric yet, but everyone else knew. She acted like a Disney princess, prancing around and singing while butterflies fluttered around her head and birds tweeted along with her tune. Okay, that didn’t actually happen, but you felt like it should when you saw her. It might have upset me, but thoughts of Gage and his chocolate kisses were a good distraction.
Lacey decided to throw a pool party and invite Sophia and Richard Croft over. She was probably trying to get in good with Eric’s family. Unfortunately, Gage couldn’t come when I asked, he had an audition. I would have to deal with Lacey’s cartoon-like mooning without a buffer.
I walked through the screen door to the backyard. Everyone was already there. Eric, Lacey, Richard and Sophia were in the pool, hitting a ball back and forth volleyball-style. Mari, putting sunscreen on Aiden, was complaining to no one in particular that Charlie wasn’t helping.
“Hand me the sunscreen,” I said to Mari, kneeling beside Landon.
Mari passed me the bottle and I sprayed Landon.
I heard a scream and a loud splash. Lacey’s head popped out of the water, she rubbed her eyes. “I’ll get you for that, Eric Wentworth,” she squealed, swimming after him.
I looked away. “Aiden, Landon, wait for me before you get into the water,” I said as they barreled toward the pool. “And stop running, Aiden!” The kid was going to break his collarbone again if he wasn’t careful.
I pulled my cover up over my head and slipped off my flip-flops. My Ralph Lauren halter bikini was nautical looking, all navy blue and white stripes. I didn’t look as sexy as Lacey in her polka-dotted ruffled bikini. Lacey and Mari were both more curvaceous than I was—softer, taller, more womanly. I was built like a short teenage boy, but I’d come to terms with that long ago.
Holding onto Aiden and Landon’s hands in each of mine, we walked down the steps into the shallow end of the pool.
“Get us our ball, Aunt Ava.” Landon’s flailing arms splashed water all over me.
“Not if you splash me.”
“Ball! Ball! Ball!” Aiden’s tiny hands slapped the water, punctuating each word.
I laughed. “Keep it up and I’ll soak you.”
They looked up at me with wide eyes. I raised my hand as if I was about to unleash a small tsunami upon them and they backed away. I laughed again.
“Please can you get our ball?” Aiden’s brown eyes were enough to melt the iciest heart.
“Sure.” The giant beach ball was at the other end of the pool, near Eric.
Pretending not to notice Eric’s eyes on me, I walked back up the steps and around the pool, the water dripping down my legs leaving a trail.
“Toss me the ball,” I called to Charlie who was treading water in the deep end.
Instead of doing what I asked, Charlie spiked the ball toward the shallow end. It only made it about halfway.
“Nice one.” I shook my head. “Really helpful.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow at me. “Think you can beat me to it?”
My smile widened. “I know I can.”
We stared at each other for a second, challenging. Then we both went for the ball, Charlie doing a noisy front stroke while I shot into the pool in a smooth dive and plowed toward it like a dolphin.
With my eyes open under the water, I could see Charlie barreling toward the ball. I stroked with my arms while my lungs started to burn for breath. In seconds, I surfaced, right by the ball. I grabbed it just before Charlie.
“Ha!” I shouted as Charlie spit water out of his mouth. “We should’ve made a bet.”
Charlie laughed. “The pleasure of beating me will have to be enough for you.”
“Nope. I need something more. Something substantial.” I tossed the ball to the boys.
“How about a cannonball contest,” Charlie said. “Winner gets a double s’more for dessert.”
I turned around. “You know darn well you’ll win that one, Mr. Cannonball Champ.” Charlie always won when we had cannonball contests back in high school. Even though he’d been scrawnier back then, somehow he knew just how to make the biggest splash. “Besides, I don’t care for the prize.”
He shrugged with a grin. “If I’m going to win anyway, what does the prize matter?” Charlie climbed out of the pool, calling everyone to join in.
Lacey went first. She bounced on the diving board, swinging her hips at the same time. When she jumped off, she gave a little “eek” before tucking herself into a ball. Somehow, her splash was light and fluffy.
Sophia went next, her splash moderate, but uninspired. Mari tried her hardest to make a big splash but panicked and belly-flopped instead, who knew how. Moaning, she made Charlie help her out of the pool and into a chair.
I headed to the diving board for my turn. Since I was by far the shortest and the smallest, I didn’t expect my cannonball to be anything special. Conscious of Eric’s eyes on me, I walked slowly to the edge of the diving board. I bounced once, twice, three times. Then I launched myself into the air, hugging my knees to my chest. The water whooshed up my body as I went under.
I swam to the surface and popped my head out of the water. Everyone was clapping.
“How’d I do?” I asked.
Charlie laughed uproariously. “It was pathetic.”
“Seriously?” I swam to the edge of the pool. “It felt big.”
“You get points for perfect form,” Eric said.
“But your puny little splash won’t stand a chance against any of ours,” Charlie taunted.
I rested my elbows on the ground outside of the pool, my back against the side. “All right, hotshots. Show us what you’ve got.”
Richard, with his tall and lanky build, managed a decent splash. Charlie’s splash was so massive, water sprayed Mari and the boys at the other end of the pool. When it was Eric’s turn, I didn’t care how big his splash was. I just took advantage of the chance to stare at him in just his swim shorts.
He walked down the diving board, slowly like I had, his eyes intent on the water. I admired his body, buff with years of exercise. When I’d known him in high school, he’d been tall but scrawny. Not anymore. Now he had a light six-pack, a perfectly defined chest. His dark red swim shorts hung low on his hips, right down to his knees. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I admired the view.
Eric jumped, his calf muscles rippling with the effort. He cannonballed into the water with perfect form, causing a big splash. When he surfaced, he ran a hand over his face and through his hair, spiking the front off his forehead. He was smiling. A memory splashed over me like a wave in the pool and my smile died.
* * * * *
“Get over here, babe,” Eric had said one afternoon, the summer before our senior year. I was lounging on a chair reading a book while Eric swam laps. He surfaced from the water, running his hand over his face and then through his hair, spiking the front off his forehead.
“Come on. Swim with me,” he said.
I held up my book and shook my head.
“Swim with me,” he insisted, “or I’ll splash you.”
I shot him a dirty look. “If you get my book wet, I’ll kill you.”
“Why don’t you come over here and try?” Eric straightene
d his arms and raised them out of the water, his palms together. Then he looked at me, grinning like a fool.
“You better not,” I said, my voice rising.
He swung his arms to the side. I jumped from the chair and ran as Eric sprayed water right where I’d been sitting.
I put my book inside the house. “You’re lucky my book didn’t get wet,” I said, stalking to the edge of the pool. He swam in my direction and grinned up at me.
“I got you over here, didn’t I?” Eric reached his arms around my legs and stroked my calves with his hands.
I stared down at him, distracted by the feel of his wet fingers on my skin.
He reached higher, grabbed me behind the knees, and threw himself backward. I toppled forward into the water, screaming, my hands slapping painfully onto the surface. Eric let go of my legs and swam away from me. I popped my head out of the water, rubbing my eyes before searching for him.
“Get back here, you bozo,” I shouted, swimming after him. He laughed. I cornered him at the edge of the pool, not because I was that fast of a swimmer, but because he wanted to be caught. “You are in so much trouble.”
He reached for me, grabbing my waist with his hands and pulling me to him. “Show me.” He nuzzled his face in my neck, melting my annoyance. “Show me how much trouble I’m in.”
I ran a hand through his wet hair, causing it to stick out in all directions.
His hands tightened on my waist. “Ava…”
“What?”
He stared at me, intense, his eyes a deeper blue than the water around us. Droplets glistened on his eyelashes, sparkled on his skin. His face flushed.
“I love you,” he said. “You know that right?”
My lips parted, I searched for breath. I didn’t know, but it was the best thing to find out. It was everything.
I wrapped my legs around his waist as he brought his lips to mine. My hands clutched his hair. His tongue explored my mouth, hot and wet while I shivered around him.
I pulled away. “I love you too. But I think you already knew that.”
He smiled at me, triumphant, like he’d won something even better than a Grammy. “I did. But it’s good to hear anyway.” And then his mouth was on mine again.
* * * * *
“The winner!” Charlie shouted. “And still undefeated!”
I shook myself from the memory. Eric climbed out while Charlie did a victory dance in the shallow end. Eric laughed. He grabbed a towel and dried off his face, his chest and down his legs. I wasn’t the only one staring at him. Lacey had wrapped a towel around herself and was openly admiring him from her deck chair.
“I’m going to go check on the food,” Lacey said. “Eric, come with me.”
Eric draped the towel over his shoulders and followed Lacey into the house.
I got out of the water, dried off, and then lay down on a chair next to Mari. With the sun warming my face, I drifted back into the memory of Eric and me kissing in the pool. Then I switched it, replacing Eric with Gage, replacing the pool with the park. I took the daydream further, into unchartered territory, and it wasn’t the sun warming my skin anymore.
“What’s taking Lacey so long?” Mari asked, breaking me from the daydream. “I’m starved.”
I opened my eyes and sat up. Lacey and Eric hadn’t returned from the house. I told myself I didn’t care. I had Gage now. Eric was with Lacey.
Beside me, Landon was napping in the crook of Mari’s arm. It was the most motherly my sister had ever looked and I snapped a picture on my phone to capture the moment.
“Ava, go see what’s up with the food,” Mari said. “I would, but I can’t get up right now.”
I tiptoed inside the house, hoping to avoid Eric and Lacey. In the kitchen, the cook was busy grabbing plates and cutlery from the cupboards.
“Can I help with anything?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said with a sigh of relief. “You can help me carry all this food outside.”
I herded plates and dishes outside while everyone else watched. On my last trip to the kitchen, I heard voices coming from another room.
“You’re adorable when you’re jealous,” Eric was saying to Lacey. I stopped to listen.
“I’m not jealous!” Lacey objected. Eric laughed. “Fine. But you have dated models, what am I supposed to feel?”
“Not just models,” he said.
“Right, actresses too.” Sarcasm dripped from her words. “And let’s not forget all the groupies.”
From my hiding spot in the kitchen, I grimaced at the thought of Eric with a bunch of groupies. I didn’t even know that he’d dated models or actresses. He’d kept his private life from the press. That would become more difficult to pull off the more famous he became. Lacey probably couldn’t wait to be photographed with him for some tabloid magazine.
“I’m not a groupie kind of guy,” Eric said. “I go for girls who are sweet…and caring…and have big…hearts.”
I didn’t know what Eric was doing between those pauses and I didn’t want to. They were quiet and I decided to move along. Obviously talking had turned to other things.
“I’ll find out the truth,” Lacey said, her voice breathy. “Ava will dish the dirt on you if I ask her.”
I froze.
“Don’t.” Even from a distance, I could hear the sharpness in Eric’s voice. “Don’t ask her.”
“Why not? Afraid of what I’ll find out?” Lacey sounded amused.
“You won’t hear anything nice, trust me.”
I frowned. Eric really didn’t know me anymore if he thought I’d say bad things about him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Ava badmouth anyone,” she scoffed. I felt a rush of gratitude toward her. “Is this awkward—talking about her? Or being around her?”
“No.” A pause. “But some things are hard to forgive.”
My breath rushed out of me in a wheeze and I gripped the countertop.
“Do you know why she left Juilliard?” he asked.
“Something about not getting into some program,” Lacey replied. “But I think there was also a guy.”
“What guy?”
“A violinist maybe? I never met him, but they were together for a few years. I’m guessing she came home because they broke up.”
They were silent again. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, I made my escape back outside.
When Eric and Lacey came onto the patio, I was sitting at the table trying to appear nonchalant. From the door, Eric’s eyes darted around until he found me. He stared at me a second, a crease between his eyebrows.
I didn’t get him. He didn’t want me around, yet he asked questions about me. He went from indifference to interest to visible anger. I wished for the power to see inside his head, to know exactly what he was thinking. While I was at it, I wished for the power to make things right between us.
I probably had a better shot at the mind reading.
Chapter Seventeen
Dinner was over and the boys had gone to bed. Outside, the darkness slowly pushed the sun beneath the ground. We sat around a low, circular table that had a fire crackling in its center, our chairs squished together so we could all fit. Charlie brought out marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate and some roasting sticks. The smell of fire burning and melted chocolate drifted around us.
The sound of quiet chatter echoed through the air. Next to me, Sophia Croft shrugged a sweater over her shoulders and then turned to me.
“Mari told me you still play piano,” she said.
“Yes,” I replied. “Not as good as Eric, though.”
“Nonsense. I remember Eric saying you were a wonderful pianist.” Sophia’s blue eyes bored into mine, reminding me of the way Eric could bring out things I wasn’t prepared to share just by looking at me.
I glanced at Er
ic. He sat snuggled up with Lacey, their chairs practically on top of each other.
“Do you do anything with it now?”
“I’m hoping to teach,” I replied. “I have two interviews in a couple of weeks.”
“Ava’s performing this summer too,” Mari broke in. Conversations died out, everyone looked at me. I squirmed in my seat. The center of attention had always been an uncomfortable place. “In an orchestra, right?”
“I’m playing with the California Philharmonic,” I said.
“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Sophia turned to Richard. “We should get tickets. I would love to see Ava play.”
“It’s no big deal.” Hopefully the darkness covered the heat spreading over my cheeks. “I don’t have any solos, so…”
“We would love to hear you all the same,” Sophia insisted. “When is your father going? It would be nice to finally meet him.”
I looked down at my lap. “I doubt my dad will go. It’s not really his thing.”
Everyone went quiet.
“Not his thing?” Richard burst out. “His daughter is not his thing?”
“It’s more the crowds,” I said. “And the drive.”
Mari snorted. “Be real, Ava. Dad doesn’t like mingling with common people unless they’re looking for his autograph—which is never these days. He wouldn’t mind a crowd if they were all famous movie stars or something.”
Sophia looked at Mari askance. “Your father sounds…” She struggled for the right word, finally settling on, “interesting.”
“I like to say eccentric,” I said. It beat self-absorbed.
Sophia placed another marshmallow on her stick. “So, he was an actor?”
“He did a few movies and he was on that soap opera—The Time of Our Life in the eighties and nineties.”
“I’ve never watched soap operas, I’m afraid.” Sophia gave me an apologetic look.
“Me neither. Although I’ve seen every one of my dad’s episodes. He sort of made us.”
Sophia chuckled at that. “Still, I can’t imagine not wanting to see your daughter perform. I attend every concert of Eric’s I can manage.”
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