I marveled at the fact I'd spent the time racking my brain to find something I could do for her. To show her that I still knew her, even if I wanted to get to know the grown-up version of her at the same time.
I marveled that for those few days she made herself scarce, something more than football and preparing for the season was on my mind. I'd still done my workouts, still prepared as much as I always would have, but I found myself paying attention to other things around me.
There were so many things for us to do around Seattle, but when I tried to find something that Ava would love, that she would know was about her, this was the obvious choice. And the look of delight on her face when I parked my truck in front of the square brick building was worth it.
Ava had been quiet, even visibly nervous when I picked her up outside her building. Maybe I'd shocked her with my offer, but from the moment we arrived, her smile told me I'd chosen correctly.
I'd called ahead, so we got a private tour of the factory. While indulging in samples, we helped them temper melted chocolate on giant marble slabs. With each different thing she saw, each confection she tried, she relaxed more and more.
I was seeing glimpses of the Ava behind the tough work exterior, the side of her honed by years of necessity. There was no camera hiding her face, no barrier of work erected between us, and I was having fun. So was she. Even if she didn't really want to share her Big Daddy, an unfortunate name given what she'd just said.
One bite, she told me. I lifted it to my mouth, and she watched carefully, her pink lips tilted up at the edges.
"You know what they say about big guys."
Her lips curled up even farther. "What?"
I leaned closer until our heads were almost touching. "We take really big bites."
I popped the entire thing in my mouth and chewed vigorously, moaning obnoxiously while she smacked me in the stomach.
"Oh, you ass," she cried.
I laughed around the mouthful of amazing, catching her hand before she could hit me again.
"Best thing I've ever put in my mouth," I said seriously.
That blush was back, even as she rolled her pretty green eyes.
"I can't believe I trusted you."
When I sucked my thumb into my mouth to catch the last bit of chocolate, she watched me with an adorably annoyed expression on her face.
"Your mistake," I told her easily. "I don't eat stuff like this during the season, so if you're going to offer, I'm taking you up on it."
Ava snorted.
When she pushed off the building, I did the same, matching her stride easily as we wandered down the treelined street. It was a cloudy day and a little bit cooler than I'd experienced since I moved here. I took a deep breath of air that smelled faintly of both the salt and ocean from Salmon Bay behind the building and the chocolate from inside it. "That was amazing."
I said it about the experience, but Ava pouted, clearly thinking about her lost chocolate.
"I know," she said sullenly. "Now I've only got two pieces left, and my soul is sad."
Without thinking about it, I chuckled and wrapped my arm around her shoulders as we walked. "You'll survive, Slim."
Ava angled her body toward mine so my arm settled more comfortably around her, and it was impossible not to notice how perfectly she fit there, so I left my arm right where it was. A little old lady smiled at us as we passed her, her eyes larger than normal behind the thick lenses of her pink rimmed glasses. I smiled back.
It wasn't often that I got smiles from strangers that weren't connected to me on the football field. They felt like unexpected and refreshing little pauses in my normal life.
For eleven years, I'd been Matthew Hawkins. Thirteen if you factored in the years when my college career really started taking off. When I was married to Lexi, we were recognized everywhere. Even though it was as much about her modeling career as my own, she loved that part of it. Me, not so much. Even when Ava and I went out that first day, I was still in that role. Playing that part of my job.
This was wonderfully, strangely normal.
Ava pulled away from me when a little girl on a bike refused to deviate from her path. "Sorry," she yelled over her shoulder as she rode past us.
My arm fell back by my side. "Where are we going?"
Ava shrugged. "I don't know. I thought we could just wander a bit." She glanced over at me quickly. "Unless you need to get back?"
Get back to what? I wanted to say. I had nothing waiting for me at my apartment. I might have teased Ava about posting pictures of her fish, but at least she had that. Normally, it didn't bother me. If I wasn't working out or watching film or studying the next game, I was sleeping. The single-minded focus that I applied to my career was something Lexi hated, but the things she wanted to do in order to distract me were all things I hated. Going out to loud clubs or big parties with big name people. Lexi was a sweet girl, but she wanted more flash in her life than I could give her.
Flash was quick and bright and had the ability to wow you for a moment, but there was no meat to it. No substance. Flash was trick plays that were about luck, not skill or preparation. I didn't want flash in my career, and I didn't want it in my personal life either. But I'd taken that desire and ignored the fact I had a personal life at all.
And today, I didn't want to do that anymore.
For a time, I’d allowed the dazzling display of wealth and parties and beauty to blind me. In the years since Lexi and I got divorced, I had to face the hard truth of how much my ego had driven my poor relationship choices. In college, Ashley felt like the perfect definition of what I thought I was looking for. During my early years in the NFL, it was impossible not to feel the pressure of the lifestyle and what was expected of us, and it fed the part of me that Ashley had punctured. My pride.
Lexi soothed that for a time until that shallow reasoning couldn’t hold up under the weight of real life.
I didn't want to put my head down and keep barreling forward. I didn't want to rush home to a dark apartment where the only thing that waited for me was a big empty bed. I wanted to walk down this quiet street on a cloudy evening and explore with Ava.
"Let's wander," I told her.
She hid her pleased smile by turning her head, but I caught the edges of it, and it brought a smile of my own.
We passed a few shops, Ava pointing out funny novelty items behind the spotless glass windows. One young kid approached us for a selfie, and after I took one with him, I made sure to sign his hat too. When we turned a corner, Ava looked in both directions before heading north. The first building we passed was a short gray building with a wide, empty deck, save for a picnic table and a few tables. Ava walked up the stairs, and I followed, the sounds of Arctic Monkeys coming from the opened door.
"So if you're allowed to have the occasional piece of someone else's chocolate during the off-season," she said, "do you allow yourself to have a drink or two?"
I glanced inside the door, which was open since the air was mild. It was a small place with old-fashioned globe lights hanging over the bar and a basic dining room table occupying the rest of the space. Wooden floors stretched the length of the room, and behind the bar were three simple rows of bottles stacked haphazardly next to each other. Copper tiles lined the ceilings, and at capacity, maybe fifty people could fit in the entire place.
It wasn't like any bar I'd ever been in, and with Ava standing there, a beautiful woman asking me to go have a drink or two with her, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.
I swept my arm toward the door. "After you."
The bartender, a hipster with a magnificent beard and the coolest suspenders I'd ever seen, didn't glance at me twice when I ordered two old-fashioneds and some pork and veggie dumplings. Either he wasn't a football fan, or he didn't give two shits who came into his bar. Either way suited me just fine.
With deft movements, he mixed our drinks and slid them in my direction.
"I'll bring the dumplings around when t
hey're done if you guys want to pick a seat," he said, tapping the bar before going back into the kitchen.
Ava wandered through a square opening beyond some heavy green curtains to an area I hadn't seen when we first looked in. There were about four empty tables, and she chose the one tucked back in the corner, ensuring us the most privacy.
I handed her the low-ball glass, and she smiled up at me.
"I hope an old-fashioned is okay," I told her, settling in the seat opposite her. The table was small, so when I braced my elbows on the surface, I all but dwarfed the entire thing.
Instead of answering, Ava took a slow sip and hummed appreciatively. Then she shivered. "Oh, that's delicious."
"Better than the chocolate?"
She took another sip of her drink. "I'm not ready to talk about that chocolate with you, traitor."
"You'll forgive me eventually."
Ava snickered but didn't argue.
Feeling lighter than I had in months, I took slow sips of my drink. The companionable silence we sat in—buoyed by the good music and privacy I did not take for granted and the warm rush from the alcohol—left me in a strange sort of weightlessness.
"What's the worst part about being with a new team?" Ava asked, setting down her empty glass. She leaned back in her seat, motioning for two more from the bartender, then gave me her full attention once again.
My eyebrows rose high on my forehead at her question. I sat back heavily, holding her steady gaze while I thought of how to answer.
"I defined myself as part of that city, that community for so long. I never imagined playing in another jersey, so I never thought I'd be the new guy again, the guy who had to prove himself." I swallowed heavily. "It felt pretty unbalanced those first few days."
She nodded. "What changed?"
A waitress delivered our drinks, and Ava smiled up at her. We both sipped quietly.
"What changed?" I repeated, tasting the words before I answered. Maybe the drink was loosening my tongue because I rarely drank, and I already felt the pleasant swimming in my head. "I think it was you."
Surprise had her mouth going slack and her eyes widening. "Me?"
"You." I smiled. "That surprises you?"
She sputtered slightly over her answer, and I watched the pink blush steal up her neck and across her face. "Well, yeah. It's not like I've done much."
"Are you kidding?" I shook my head. "Slim, I don't think you know how rare it is to be around someone who doesn't require you to wear a mask or keep up the façade that the rest of the world wants to see. You're the only person here who gives me that."
It was clear she had no freaking clue how to respond to that, and honestly, I didn't either.
"I-I'm glad I could help," she replied, quiet and sincere.
Ava composed herself with another deep drink, and I took one of my own.
Cocooned like we were, after a pleasant afternoon, I gave her a long look and decided to see if she’d allow me to pull back the curtain a little bit. There were things I wanted to know, wanted to figure out, and her self-contained nature made me more determined to get her to open up a little bit.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
She inhaled slowly, eyes wide. “Should I be nervous?”
I shook my head. “Nope. We’re just talking. You know you can ask me anything too.”
Ava’s fingers tapped nervously on the table, and because I couldn’t stop myself, I laid my hand on top of them. She gave me an embarrassed smile and held them still.
“My relationship history is pretty much,” I started, then stopped with a grimace, “public record. But I’m curious about something. What about you? How are you still …?”
Her answering smile was lopsided. “Still single? Maybe I’m impossible to put up with. Or crazy. Or both.”
“Come on,” I said, leaning back in my chair. My hands slid off hers when I did, and she stared down at them for a minute before answering. “We’re all a little impossible and crazy sometimes. No juicy ex stories to share over whiskey?”
Ava’s eyebrows bent in briefly. “Not really. Not since college. I stay so busy with work, and I love my job. It’s been … enough.”
Enough. What a safe, invulnerable word for such a smart, beautiful, and interesting woman to use. That no one had met her and felt this same urge to unearth the pieces of her that she didn’t show the world seemed unbelievable. It seemed …
“That seems impossible,” I said under my breath, and even though I hadn’t intended to say it out loud, she heard me. Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced away quickly.
A burst of laughter from the other room sliced through the quiet moment, and our eyes met. She'd felt the neat severing of an unexpectedly weighted moment too, the transition into normal conversation.
From there, it was easy. Laughter came from our own corner, trading stories of things she'd seen and done in her job, and I told her stories from my years in New Orleans. At one point, she clapped a hand over her mouth so she didn't spew her drink over our tiny little table, crowded by my arms as I leaned toward her. Those eyes pinched shut, and given that I was finishing my third drink, I had to fight the urge to lean closer and use my big, clumsy fingers to open them again just so I could see the bright color against her dark, long lashes.
Ava dropped her hand and took a deep breath. "And how long did it take to get the glitter out of your car?"
My eyes saw her lips moving, but I couldn't hear what she said over the rush of noise in my own head. Then I was studying the shape of her lips as they formed the words. Then they spread in a sweet smile, and I realized that I was staring at Ava Baker's mouth.
"Sorry," I mumbled and felt my cheeks heat. "It's just getting loud in here."
She hummed but didn't answer. Probably because it wasn't loud at all. Probably because I was a little buzzed, and I was staring at her mouth, trying to decide what color pink her lips reminded me of.
And her nose. It was straight and small and had the tiniest tilt up at the end.
Plus, there was that freckle she had on her right cheek. How had I never noticed that before?
"Matthew?" she said, clearly amused but also clearly embarrassed by my pointed perusal.
I sat back and did one more slow sweep of her face with eyes that felt clear and a brain that felt fuzzy.
But the fuzziness of my brain, happy and weightless and content in this little bracket of space we were enjoying, held no comparison to my stupid, sluggish tongue. Because instead of telling her how beautiful I found her, I heard myself say something completely different.
"You don't look anything like your sister."
Chapter Nine
Ava
If Matthew had balled up his substantial fists, reared back his massive arm, and socked me in the stomach, he wouldn't have surprised me more.
I heard the gust of air leave my mouth like a punch, heavy between us, and he sat back, face morphing into some pained, horrible expression as he realized what he said. Realized how it sounded.
"Ava," he said quickly, blinking rapidly and leaning into the middle of the table. "Th-that's not what I meant to say. I'm such an ass. I'm so sorry."
I tried to smile, but my face was so hot and prickly, my skin icy cold, that my muscles locked into some iron cage of whatever they'd looked like the moment he said it.
His hands curled around mine where they were frozen on the surface of the table. They were more than warm. Matthew's hands on mine felt like someone wrapped the sun over a block of ice. Basically, I didn't stand a chance.
"It's fine, Matthew." I sucked in some much-needed air. "I've gone my whole life knowing the transcendent beauty of Ashley pretty much outshines everyone around her. Ashley is what would happen if Blake Lively and Margot Robbie had a baby and then Charlize Theron dumped some of her DNA in there just to make sure she was the most angelic being ever to walk the earth."
Ohhhhh the bitterness was not as absent from my tone as I thought it would be. The wo
rds sounded sharp. Like someone poured syrup over ice, the result was something hard and cracked and uncomfortable. Something impossible to ingest.
Lucky for him, Matthew didn't look at me with pity in those warm hazel eyes. If he'd looked at me with pity, my exit would've been so fast I would've left track marks in this nice little bar.
He licked his bottom lip before he spoke again, weighing his words carefully this time. Maybe he should've done that about four minutes ago.
His hands tightened over my clenched fists. And what happened to ice under the relentless heat of the sun? It melted, like a little hussy who'd never held hands before. My pointer finger tangled with his, and he exhaled slowly.
"I'm an idiot," he started. I laughed under my breath but made no argument because his words still stung like tiny nettles. "And I won't blow smoke up your ass by denying that your sister was a beautiful woman."
One of my eyebrows popped up. "Was?"
His mountainous shoulders lifted in a casual shrug that belied the intense expression on his face. "I haven't seen her in ten years. Maybe she's ugly now."
This time, I laughed out loud. The ache in my chest started to subside, beat by beat by beat of my heart.
"She's not ugly," I told him.
"It doesn't matter whether she is or isn't." His eyes bored into mine. No, the ache was gone, but in its place was this tumbling hot ball of emotion at the way he was looking at me. Matthew Hawkins was looking at me as though he was recording every part of my face. Not cataloging it as he had been earlier but committing it to his memory. "What I meant to say was that you are incredibly beautiful, Ava. It has nothing to do with who you're related to, or how I might've known you a handful of years ago. I'm just glad to be sitting across from you right now."
Well, shit. That hot ball of emotion? That was my heart, melting in an ooey, gooey mess down to the soles of my really cute shoes. The man brought me to a chocolate factory, which was bad enough. Now, I was wholeheartedly tipsy, sitting across from him when he tells me shit like that. What did he expect? I was only human. A female human who had a raging crush on him years ago.
The Ex Effect Page 7