by McLean, Jay
I stand behind her, my hands on her hips, my mouth to ear. “Ava, what is this?”
“It’s nothing.”
I spin her around, force her to look up at me. “It’s something.”
Those small hands cover her face, and I tug them down, needing her to see me. “What do you want me to say, Connor?”
“I’m not mad about it,” I try to console. “I’m just… confused. You had no contact for over a year, and you could have, Ava; I’ve been here.” I point to the closet. “You know I’ve been here. Why…”
“Because… I don’t know, okay?” Her hands drop to her sides, and she attempts a calming breath, but she can’t seem to keep it together for long. “I tried, Connor. I tried so hard to let go of you, to fight those feelings, but I couldn’t. I spent every single day away from you trying to convince everyone around me, and even myself, that I was fine without you, but I wasn’t. And this—you seeing this—it’s embarrassing, okay?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know! Because it’s the only way I could deal with how much I missed you, and how much I love you, and I—” She pauses a breath. “My love for you never wavered. Not for a second. And I never stopped being proud of you, of everything you’ve accomplished and everything you are, but this—” She waves a hand toward the closet. “This is, like, borderline obsession and—”
I kiss her. Without pause. Without heartache. I take everything she is, because right now, all of her is all for me, and it’s always been like that. Even on her bad days, and even when things got too much, she never stopped loving me. Never.
Her hands form a fist, balling up my T-shirt as she pulls me closer to her, her mouth opening wider for me. Her tongue strokes mine, and I feel the charge between us ignite the second her back hits the wall. Her moan drowns in my inhale, and I grasp her thighs, lift her off her feet until her legs are wrapped around me. Knees bent, I lower us to the floor while she removes my T-shirt, her mouth finding my collarbone as soon as it’s off. I lift the hem of her dress, higher and higher until it’s gone completely, and my hips jerk up the moment I claim her mouth again. Everything inside me is frantic, fighting for release. She practically rips off her bra and then grasps my head, pulling me there, her hips sinking into mine when I latch on to a breast. Her fingernails dig into my shoulder while she arches her back, grinding into me. I lower my shorts, just enough to free the bulge, and she moans, pushes me until I’m on my back and she’s leaning over me, one arm outstretched, hand to my side. The other reaches between us, moving her underwear to the side. She glides against me, her wetness against my length, and my head falls back, hits the floor with a thud. “Jesus, Ava, I need inside you so fucking—”
“Fuck waiting,” she moans, and her mouth covers mine while her weight on my hips lightens. I curl my hands around her waist, lift my head so I can watch as she places me at her entrance.
“Wait, we need—”
“I’m on the pill,” she breathes out. “I have been for a while because it helps—”
“I don’t care why.” I grip her waist tighter, pull her down until she covers me entirely and, “Fuck!” I breathe through the ecstasy of feeling her heat surround me, feeling her raw. “Don’t. Move.”
And because she’s a brat and she never listens, she moves, sliding me slowly out of her until there’s just the tip, then she drops, groaning when I’m all the way in again.
“I said don’t move.”
“Shut up; I don’t care.” She starts moving on me, her hands flat on my chest, and I close my eyes, think of every horrible accident my dad’s ever told me about. Brains splattered on the road, three-inch nails through hands, legs caught in—“Oh, God, Connor!” I open my eyes just in time to see bliss overtake her, shaking her entire body as she tightens around me. She gasps for air, riding me without apology. When she’s done, she falls against my chest, her wet hair matching the sweat coating her body.
I wait only a second before flipping her onto her back and grabbing her thigh, holding it to my hip, and then I fuck her. I fuck her as if I’ve been waiting a year and a half to do it, and tomorrow I’ll make love to her. I’ll worship her. But tonight… tonight we need the release, both physical and emotional.
We shower together when we’re done, laughing at how out of control we were. “You didn’t even take your shorts off,” Ava laughs, soaping up my chest with a loofa.
“You started it.” I kiss her gently, my mouth open on hers.
“Can you get my back?” she asks. Grabbing my hand and placing the loofa on my palm, she turns around, her hands on the wall, ass in the air.
I scrub her back.
She adds, “And how did I start it?”
“With your Creepy Connor Closet.”
“Shut up!” she laughs out, reaching behind her to squeeze my hard-on. She starts tugging me, pulling me closer until my front’s to her back. I kiss her shoulder, her neck, her jaw, and say, my mouth to her ear. “I stalked you, too.”
Her head tilts, her mouth meeting mine. “You did?”
“Austin works in student admissions. I checked every week to make sure you were still enrolled. I think, deep down, that’s why I had a shitty season—because I didn’t want to leave. I was just waiting for you to come back to me.”
Chapter 51
Ava
“How nice is it to have weekends together?” I ask, watching Connor lick his ice cream as if it’s his job. A high paying, X-rated job.
He rolls his eyes, playful. “It’s okay.”
I throw my napkin at his head. One month. We’ve been together for one month, and there’s no other way to describe how I feel but magic. In every sense of the word. I’d always imagined what it would be like to free myself from the chains of responsibility and just be with him, but I never thought it would be like this. We hang out every chance we get, either at my apartment or his dorm, making the most of the time we have before the season starts. Some would think we’re finding each other again or falling in love for the second time, but that’s not true. We were never lost, always in each other’s hearts, and we never stopped loving, not for a second.
“You done?” he asks, standing, his hand out for me to take.
Fingers linked, we walk around the strip mall with no real purpose, no destination in mind. He goes to a sports store, buys a pair of sneakers and another basketball so he can leave them at my place. I go to a few clothes stores and try on some dresses, force him to sit and wait until I’m ready to show him, though I don’t think he minds it too much. He offers to pay, and I decline every time, and then I see a furniture store with some housewares and start to walk in. His hand tightens around mine. “What?” I ask, looking up at him. “Are you done shopping?”
“No, I don’t mind. But… what do you need from here? Your apartment’s furnished.”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Maybe a throw or some cute little bits and pieces… why?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, let’s go get your throw—whatever the hell that is.”
He holds the door open for me, his brow dipped, and I walk past him, my eyes narrowed in confusion. “Connor, do you have, like, a stalker or something who works here?”
“The only stalker I have is you,” he says, taking my hand again.
We walk through the store, and I notice his palm sweating against mine, but I choose to ignore it, just like I choose to ignore the rigidness of his stance. “Hey, look,” I say, pointing to a couch. “It looks like mine.” I walk over to it, take a closer look. “I think it is mine.” I release his hand so I can sit on it, test it. “It is.” And then I notice the coffee table. “That’s exactly the one I have. They must have—”
“Hey, Connor!” a middle-aged man sings, approaching us. “You’re back.”
“Who me?” Connor asks, his face flushed. “I think you got the wrong guy.”
The guy shakes his head. “No, I remember you. Hard to forget since you—”
Connor
clears his throat, cutting the man off. “Seriously, I’ve never been here before, so…”
The man’s gaze trails to me, then back to Connor. “Okay, if you say so.”
I wait for the guy to be out of earshot before standing up, whisper to Connor, “That was weird.”
“So weird,” Connor responds, retaking my hand. We go to the housewares section, where I pick up a vase. “This is cute, right?”
“It’s a vase, Ava,” he deadpans, his shoulders lifting. Sweat lines his hairline, and his eyes shift. First left. Then right.
“Are you feeling okay, because you look—”
“I’m fine. Get the vase.”
The man reappears, waving a stack of papers in the air. “Connor Ledger!” he beams. “I knew it was you! I never forget a face.” He stops in front of us, pointing to the receipts in his grasp. “That’s you, right?”
Connor swallows.
“See, we take copies of the driver’s license for people who come in and spend as much as you did.”
Connor’s lips thin to a line, and I can see the annoyance in his eyes.
I place the vase back on the table and step forward, my mind spinning. “Can I see that?” I ask.
“No,” Connor snaps.
“Sure!” says the man, happily handing it to me.
I look at the receipts, and sure enough, Connor’s ID is attached. Then I look at the items, one by one, my chest tightening with every line. Next to the descriptions are images of the products, the same products that fill my entire apartment. My stomach twists, my mind clearing as my heart pounds against my ribs. I look up at Connor, anger forcing the words: “What the hell did you do?”
He swallows, releases a breath. “Ava, it’s not—”
I slam the papers against his chest, my voice rising. “What did you do, Connor?!”
He refuses to take hold of the receipts, so they fall to the ground when I march off, my arms crossed. “Ava!” he calls after me, grasping my elbow to stop me from running away. Confusion pulses in my veins and I spin to him, my lip forming a snarl. “Did you get me that apartment?” I shake my head. “No, that apartment came with my mom’s care… they told me…” I lower my gaze, my eyes scattered as I try to make sense of everything that’s happened from then to now. I look up at him at the same time I release a staggering breath. “You bought the furniture to fill the apartment, but how did you—and why—and where did you get—”
“I’ll explain everything, but you just need to calm down.”
“Calm down?!” I screech. Shove his chest. “No more secrets, Connor! We agreed!”
The fucker laughs. Right in my face.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because you’re so angry and you don’t even know why yet.”
“That’s not funny!”
He laughs again.
I spin on my heels, walk away. But he’s only a step behind me. Air fills my lungs the moment I step outside, and he’s talking, begging me to stop, but I won’t. Can’t. Tears of anger fill my eyes. All I can think about is how I forced someone else into financial debt. But it’s worse this time, so much worse, because—“Ava!” Connor grasps my elbow again, turning me to him. We’re on the sidewalk, blocking other pedestrians, and so he pulls me to the side, leans back against a truck—his truck—and I didn’t even know we were back where we started. Figuratively and literally. Hands on my waist, he pulls me between his legs. “Are you done?”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles.
I slam my fist against his chest. “Stop laughing at me,” I cry out, hitting him some more.
He grasps my wrists now, holding them to him. “I’ll talk when you settle the fuck down.”
I growl.
He raises his eyebrows.
Then I take a few calming breaths. “I’m settled. Talk.”
His mouth parts, but nothing comes. And I wait, one second, two.
“You’re an idiot,” I snap. “You can’t afford to be buying—”
“I can,” he cuts in, shrugging, and he’s so cool and so calm and why can’t he see how much this is affecting me? He sucks in a huge breath as if preparing his speech, and then he says, “My mother came back into my life because her mom, my grandmother, was dying.”
Anger’s suddenly replaced by sympathy, and I wipe at the residual tears. I pout up at him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be; I didn’t know her. I mean, I’m sure I did at one point, but it didn’t really affect me. But the point is, my mom was in hiding, and so when my grandmother died, all of her money went to me, and my mom wanted to make sure that she could still access that money through me.”
“Wait.” I struggle to breathe. “She only came back for money?”
Connor nods.
“Okay, so…” I try to clear the fog in my brain, try to wrap my head around what he’s telling me. “So your grandmother died, and you got an inheritance?”
He nods again.
“And your mother wanted you to give her some of it?”
Another nod. “I mean, I’m not hard to find, right? You look up my name online, and it shows you what high school I go to. And my mother knew that. My grandmother had lawyers who could easily find me, and that would be it. Done, over. But she wanted a presence in my life so I could drip feed her some cash so she could continue her life as it is.”
I ask, hesitant, trying to leave my own feelings about his mom out of it, “Do you give her money?”
“She tried to kill me, Ava. Fuck her.”
My lips tug at the corners. “Good.” I lean closer to him, unable to control the pull. “So that’s it? You got some money, and you decided to furnish the apartment?”
His throat bobs with his swallow.
“Connor,” I breathe out. “What else did you do?”
“I kind of… I mean, the apartment’s mine, too.”
“You leased an apartment for me?”
“Actually, I own the apartment.”
My eyes widen. “You… what?”
“Yeah,” he says, grimacing.
“I’m still processing,” I admit.
“You look so cute when you’re confused.”
Ignoring him, I ask, “So you came into some money, and you’re just out here buying properties?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, actually, I have this neat little portfolio going.”
“Shut up,” I say through a giggle.
“It’s true.” He shrugs. “Besides, your apartment’s a good investment. But I’d like to get you something bigger—”
“Connor! Stop!”
He clamps his lips shut.
“So… if you have all this money, why are you living on campus, and why are you still driving around in this truck?”
“I’m not going to let money change me. I’m still me, and I don’t have a reason to live off campus.” Then he stands taller, his stance defensive. “Wait. What’s wrong with my truck?”
“Nothing,” I laugh out, “but why not buy a Mercedes or something? Isn’t that what ballers do?”
“Oh, she left me one of those, too… it’s in a garage somewhere, I think.”
“Jesus.”
“Hey, do you want it?”
“No, I don’t want it.”
He smiles. “I don’t know, Ava. I’m a simple man with simple needs.” Then his brow dips. “No one besides my dad knows about the money,” he says, shrugging. “I’d like to keep it that way.”
Nodding, I stay silent a moment, still trying to work through everything he’s telling me. “Wait. How did you know to buy the apartment and—”
“Because there’s more, Ava.”
“Oh, God. I need to sit down.”
“No, just listen, okay? And please try not to get mad at me.”
“Connor! You can’t say that and then not expect—”
“Sunshine Oak…”
“No…” My eyes fill with tears again. “You didn’t… did you?”
He chews the
corner of his lip. “I know you said you were waiting on a place for your mom near Duke, and it took me a while until I found where she was waitlisted, but Riverside… I mean, it’s a good place, Ava, but your mom—she deserves the best—and Sunshine Oak—”
I cover my mouth, stop the sob from escaping, but he pulls down my hand, kisses me there.
“Your mom deserves Sunshine Oak, and it took a lot of convincing for them to do what I asked. They were willing to take the money, but trying to get you on board, and anonymously, that was tough, and that’s why it took almost a year for them to contact you.”
I struggle to breathe, to catch every tear that falls fast and free, and so he does it for me, his thumbs swiping my cheeks.
“And I don’t want you to think that your mom’s care is mutually exclusive with what happens with us. That’s there for as long as you both need or want, okay? I promise you that. Even when you get sick of my dumb ass, your mom will always be taken care of.”
My shoulders shake with my sob, and he holds me tighter to him, his lips finding my forehead. “Why would you do this?” I mumble into his chest.
He grasps my shoulders, pushing me back so he can look in my eyes. “I told you from the moment I met you, everything I did was for you. My end game was to take care of you and your mom, and that never changed.”
“Connor, why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”
“Because I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be with me for that reason. I wanted to make sure that you’d fall for me again.” He huffs out a breath, his palm cupping my jaw as he leans in, tastes the tears from my lips. “But, babe, I need you to promise something.”
“Anything.”
“Two things actually.”
I nod.
“I don’t want your mom knowing.”
“Okay.”
“And you owe me nothing.”