by CJ Azevedo
Ava walks up to us and I notice Jackson’s hand on her lower back. “Hey guys, I wanted to introduce you real quick.” She looks at the other guys first then finally makes eye contact with me. She smiles but I’m not feeling it, so I just reach around her to offer my hand to this Jackson guy.
“Hey, Declan James. How’s it going?”
Ava looks like she might pass out and although I wouldn’t want her to get hurt; I sorta wouldn’t care if she went down right now.
“Jackson Andrews. Good to meet you, man. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He offers half a smile and a firm shake.
The guys, Dustin, and Max are all watching skeptically.
Ava clears her throat and looks next to me. “Jax this is Greyden, Luca and Keegan.” She points to each one of them as she says their names.
Max has my beer set on top of the bar so I nod towards Jackson and walk away from them to sit on my stool. I down my beer in two swallows and ask for another one. Max obliges without question.
After a couple minutes of being left to my thoughts, Jackson sits on the stool next to me. Max slides him a glass of water before Jackson starts talking without looking at me.
“Ava’s really into you,” he says casually.
What does he expect me to say to that? I also thought that was true, especially after she just about got into a fight tonight because some girl tried to order me a beer. Jealous? That’s what I call it. I take another long swig of my beer before pulling my lip ring in between my teeth. I think about how opposite Jackson is from me. He’s about as preppy and clean cut as a guy can get in a polo, khaki dress shorts, and boat shoes. Fucking boat shoes.
“I’m sorry she didn’t tell you about me. Ava and I go back a long way and we have a hell of a history. She means more to me than anyone,” the guy says before shaking his head and taking in a deep breath, “but I can tell by the way she looks at you that what I have with her is inconsequential in comparison.”
The words he’s saying should mean more to me than they do. They can’t pack a whole lot of meaning, though, when she won’t agree to be mine. We’re just friends, she’s made that crystal clear. Without looking at Jackson, I nod curtly at his words. He stands and walks away and suddenly Ava is standing next to me.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly. She looks amazing. She has on an emerald green shirt that only covers one shoulder, a pair of jeans that look like they were made for her, and a pair of high-heeled sandals. She’s wearing more makeup than I’ve ever seen her wear and while she’s perfect with the little makeup she tends to sport, tonight the heavy eye makeup and dark lips are screaming “sexy.”
I set my empty bottle down and turn so I can pull her in between my legs by her hips. She comes willingly. I notice over her shoulder that Max, Dustin and Jackson are all watching us discreetly. Ignoring our audience, I turn my hat around backwards so she can look right into my eyes. “You don’t owe me anything, Ava, and definitely not an apology. We’re just friends, so you’re free to let random guys put their hands and mouths all over you. No questions asked.” Am I being a douche? Yes.
“Jackson’s not a random guy and his hands and mouth weren’t all over me. I’m sorry he kissed me in front of you; he didn’t know you were here.”
“Well… I’ve spoken to you every day for the last couple of months and I’ve never heard you mention him, so, to me, he is a random guy. Besides, contrary to the jealousy you showed earlier, I’m not yours, Ava. You don’t have to apologize, not even for him sticking his tongue down your throat or for you kissing him like you’ve done it a million times. I’m good. You better go, you’re going to be late for your date.” I try to guide her backwards so I can turn back to the bar, but she stands strong and places her hand firmly on my face.
“It’s not a date, Dec,” she says lowly with a tight jaw, her bright eyes radiating her frustration.
I think I may have just pissed her off. I’m good with that, because I’m pissed too.
“Hmm, are you not going to dinner with him then?” I ask her in an eerily calm voice, completely masking all of the turmoil stewing inside of me.
“Yes, but it’s not…”
I put my finger to her lips to keep her from continuing. “Dinner is considered a date in anyone’s book, ain’t that right, Sunshine?”
Her eyes widen and I can see the hurt spread across her face. This time she lets me guide her backwards and I’m ready to leave.
“I need to get going anyway; I have an early flight.” I lean in and kiss her softly on her cheek before whispering, “Happy Birthday, Ava.” I throw some money on the bar and walk out. I hear the guys getting up and talking but I’m not going to wait around for them.
Chapter Eight
Ava
It’s been a week since Declan kissed me on the cheek and walked out of the bar. Not a single call or text. I can’t say that I blame him, really. If the shoe were on the other foot, I probably would have…well, I don’t know what I would have done, but we all saw how I handled Rachel ordering him a beer.
I realize I should have explained Jax to him, but explaining Jax would involve Harper and that isn’t something I’m prepared to do.
Jax stayed with me until Sunday morning before he drove back down to San Diego. He let me cry to him all weekend over Declan. Jax is the only other guy I’ve ever cried over so it seemed fitting that he got to sit on this side of it for once. He sent me to the spa on Saturday as a birthday gift, where I got the full work up. They even cut off all of my hair. It’s now shaped in a slight A-line bob with a few new golden low-lights and I absolutely love it. It makes me feel a little more adult, a little more professional.
When I got home from the spa all I wanted to do was call Declan and tell him all about it; I wanted to know what he thought about my new look. I restrained myself from calling, but I couldn’t help being curious about what Declan would have done for my birthday had he known. I have a feeling he would have done something special. Declan is a thoughtful man and I don’t think I could possibly feel any worse than I do right now about the whole situation. The whole misunderstanding was completely my fault.
I’m sitting at the bar on a day I’m not working because I needed to get out of my apartment and Dustin needed to pick up a shift. I got bored quickly at my apartment once Harper and Marla went to Marla’s friend’s house for an early dinner and ended up here. Dustin’s pretty busy right now, which is actually fine, because I’m not in the mood to socialize. I miss Declan. I miss him more than I ever thought possible. Against my better judgment, I pull out my phone and text Declan before I can change my mind.
Ava- Hi
I figure it’s best not to say too much in the initial text in case he won’t respond. This way I’m not too put out by him ignoring me. I don’t have to ponder that thought for too long though because he writes back quickly even if it doesn’t give me any clue as to how receptive he’s going to be.
Declan- Hey.
Short and sweet or still madder than hell? Ava- Are you back in town?
Declan- Yes.
He’s going to make this impossible. Ava- Are you going to be mad at me forever? His response takes longer than I would have liked. I’m just about to put my phone away and go home to cry some more when it finally comes through.
Declan- I was never mad Ava.
Hurt? That’s even worse. Ava- Are you busy tonight?
Declan- I can’t come to the bar, but I’m not busy. Do you need something?
Ava- I’m not working tonight and I was hoping I could see you.
Declan- 5589 Rosewood Ct. come on over
I’ve never been to his house before. I know he bought it last year as an investment when his grandma passed away and left him a hefty inheritance, but that’s pretty much all I know about it. Greyden is his roommate and for some reason I feel even more anxious about seeing Greyden than Declan. I guess because Greyden looked like he could murder Jax last week and Declan looked bored.
Ava- On my wa
y. I type my response quickly as I wave bye to Dustin and head towards my car.
Declan- 2012 is the gate code. Use on both gates.
Of course he has a damn gate code.
I pull up his address on my phone’s GPS and head out of downtown. The further I get from the city, the closer I get to the San Jose foothills. I’m trying to prepare myself for the kind of lifestyle I’m about to discover, the lifestyle I can only imagine, where their closets are larger than my shoebox sized apartment and their jeans cost more than I spend on groceries in a month, but the area is making me doubt my acceptance ability. After about a twenty-minute drive, I find myself in front of an elaborate gate with a keypad near my window. I punch in the code and begin the drive through the hills and trees. I keep passing other gates but the houses are set too far back for me to see.
“5589 Rosewood” appears on the final gate directly in front of me. It’s at the end of the road and I can see the old streetlights lining the drive. I punch in the code one more time; the gate slowly swings open and I pull my car through. As I drive closer to Declan’s house I take in my surroundings. There isn’t a plant or tree out of place—everything is pristine, including the rocks and flowers and greenery on every inch of the ground.
Once I make my way around a small curve in the road, the house comes into view. To say that I’m speechless would be a massive understatement. The sun is mostly down and the house is glowing like a Thomas Kinkade painting. It’s an older Tuscan style home, so well maintained that if it weren’t for the mature landscaping it’d be difficult to decipher how long it’s been here. The browns and creams of the exterior and trim seem to have been picked out to perfectly accentuate the forest it sits in. I want to count the windows, but as I park my car in the circular drive, Declan walks out of the double doors set in the middle of the ground level entryway.
When my eyes find him, they instantly tear up, the ache in my chest that I have been experiencing since last Wednesday intensifying as he stands there waiting for me. I blink away my tears the best I can and grab my purse off the passenger seat before stepping out of the car.
I notice other cars stacked in on the side of his driveway in front of the garage. I see Greyden and Macie’s cars but I don’t recognize the other ones. He said he wasn’t busy, but it sure looks like he is with the amount of guests I presume to be inside.
Swiping at my eyes one more time, I walk around the water fountain and right up to Declan, who’s standing with his hands in his pockets. Pockets that belong to black slacks. I would never have guessed that he owned a pair of dress slacks, nor would I have suspected him to wear dress shoes, but here he is looking all kinds of sexy. He’s also wearing a button down black shirt, however he relaxed the look a bit with his signature belt and by rolling up his sleeves to reveal his toned forearms. His face metal is gone and there are stitches above his right eye. He doesn’t smile or nod or shake my hand or anything. He just stands there.
“You should have told me you were busy,” I announce quietly as I approach him, unsure of his actual acceptance to my being here.
“I’m not.” I can tell by the way his features are set in stone and the words come out so seriously that he’s still angry with me.
I wave my hand towards the cars to the right of me and he just glances over real quick before turning his gaze back on me. “Your guests’ cars contradict your statement,” I comment.
He still just stands there and watches me. This obviously was a bad idea. A couple tears escape my eyelids and I bat them away quickly.
“Never mind. I shouldn’t have come.” I turn around but only take one step before I feel his hand grasp my upper arm.
“Why are you crying, Ava?” he asks quietly.
I look down to the keys in my hand and sniffle. I try to steady my voice but I’m feeling too many emotions to make that happen. “Because this was a bad idea.”
I hear him drag in a deep breath. “Come here, Sunshine.” He’s still speaking quietly and I kind of wish he would just yell at me and get it over with. I hate that he could easily pass this off as nothing and I can’t even keep my damn tears from falling. Declan pulls me tightly into his arms and I actually cry. He holds me until my sobs subside.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.” My breath hitches a couple times by the time I’m able to get all of that out. “You weren’t supposed to get this close to me, Dec. I warned you,” I offer pathetically.
“I know, Ava, it’s just that, it’s just…” He lets out a deep breath and gently pushes away from his chest so he can see my face. “Who is he to you?”
“He’s a big part of my past and he’s been my best friend for a long time,” I answer as my eyes plead with him to leave it at that.
“Why haven’t you talked about him to me?” Declan is being extremely patient, but I can see in his eyes that he’s at his breaking point with me as far as this subject goes.
“Because when I explain him I have to explain some other things that I haven’t wanted to tell you about.”
“Why won’t you tell me? I’ve tried to be patient and I think I was doing a damn good job of it until last week.” He brushes the hair out of my face and wipes away the trickling tears.
“Because like I said before, it’s a deal breaker, which is precisely why I won’t date you. I’m afraid that even if I tell you as friends, it’ll make you run in the opposite direction. Once you know the other parts of my life, it’ll change whatever dynamic we have.” I pause and look at my feet. “Honestly, I don’t know how I could live with that, Dec; without you in my life, I mean,” I add quietly.
He seems to be pondering my words before he speaks. “Is this about Harper?”
In all the things in this world that he could have said, that is not something I would have ever expected. My breath whooshes out of my lungs and my stomach drops. How the hell? “What?” I say with bated breath. I can’t believe he knows about Harper.
“I heard Dustin tell Jackson that his mom was going to keep Harper for the night so you could get some good sleep. Who’s Harper?” His expression is quizzical and rightfully so.
I don’t even know where to start. I’m sort of relieved that he knows about her now, but I just don’t have a clue as to how to explain her. “She’s…” I can’t find the words and I can’t look him in the eye, so I look around at the magnificent scenery around us. “Declan, once I tell you, things are going to change between us, which I completely understand,” I rush out before drawing a long breath, “I just ask that before you de-friend me, please consider at least staying in touch. This last week was hell without talking to you.” I hear the weakness and vulnerability in my voice, but there’s no preventing it. I’m kind of freaking out right now.
“Is she your daughter, Ava?” he asks in a stern, controlled voice. He seems mad or frustrated and hurt maybe? Probably a whole slew of things he has a right to be feeling. He’s never going to speak to me again.
I cross my arms in front of my chest defensively. “Technically, yes she is.” I can’t look into those beautiful eyes.
“What the fuck does that mean?” he asks impatiently.
“Technically, in all the ways that matter, she’s mine. Biologically, she’s my niece, but according to her and the state of California, I am her mother.”
“You have custody of your niece?” Now he’s confused and looking at me like I’m a crazy person.
“Yes.” My defense is broken, I feel just as tired as he looks now.
He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Why?” His voice comes out in a whisper.
“Because as you already know, I haven’t heard from my dad since I was a little girl and my mom left me with my 15-year-old sister on my 18th birthday. My sister got pregnant when she was 17 and refused to give her up for adoption. When Harper was three months old, my sister decided she wasn’t cut out to be a mom and went to Hollywood to be an actress. That was nearly three years ago and I haven’t heard from her
since.” I’m ready to get in my car and leave. I don’t think I can talk about this anymore, especially when he’s looking at me that way…like I’m insane for taking on this responsibility…
“And Jackson?” He’s not running, and a tiny bubble of hope pops up in my chest. I don’t allow it to fully inflate just yet; we’re far from being okay.
“Jackson was my boyfriend all through high school. He moved to San Diego to attend SDSU my junior year. We did the long distance thing for a couple years, then we decided that it wasn’t worth it anymore. We basically were friends and I was keeping him from the dating scene so we removed the titles and remained friends. He’s been there for me through the whole thing with my sister and every one of Harper’s milestones and mishaps. He means a lot to me, but I don’t have feelings of anything more than friendship for him.”
Declan is staring me in the eye and when I finish speaking he swiftly shakes his head and then walks right up to me. He grabs my face in both of his hands and kisses me slowly. His kiss is intoxicating. He tastes minty and cool, his lips soft and lush. This is the kiss from all of the romance movies when the girl finally gets her dream guy or the guy finally pulls his head out of his ass and picks the real girl—their kiss is always explosive, just like this one. I’m floating and I’m nowhere near ready to come down. This is absolutely not what I was expecting. In the back of my mind I’m secretly hoping that this is our first kiss of many but the forefront of my mind is questioning whether or not this is a sendoff kiss. I keep my hands to myself just in case it’s the latter.
When we both need to take a breather, Declan pulls back but continues to hold my face. “Ava Sterling, you are the most incredible person I have ever or will ever know. I’m still pissed that you’ve kept this from me for so long, but I guess I understand where you were coming from.” He kisses me softly one more time, letting his tongue part my lips. He glides around my mouth like it’s nothing new to us. But it is, very much so.