I shake my head. “No. Hold on.” I gesture in the direction of the bathroom.
“Lucas, don’t. I don’t mind. It’s part of you, a sign that you enjoyed yourself.”
Her words barely register. The only thing hammering in my head is the old memory.
Why would I want to hug you when you’re so filthy? my mother would say, pushing me away. Leave me alone.
“Lucas.” Ava cups my cheek. “Here.”
She guides my hand between her legs, lets me feel the slick warmth. My blood heats again, and I can’t stop myself from gently rubbing her swollen clit.
A gasp, then a moan. But she doesn’t let me continue. She tightens her hold around my wrist. “Does this bother you?”
Helluva silly question. “No. I love it when you’re wet for me.” I punctuate that by pushing a knuckle into her pussy. I want to see her squirm, then come again, riding my fingers. She’s so lovely when she climaxes—all soft and sweet and pliant. Her pleasure gives me the kind of high nothing else can.
“Mmm.” She rubs my cum over her belly. “Then accept that I feel the same way about you coming on me.”
“Ava—”
“Lucas, when I said I loved you, I meant it. I don’t love some parts of you and reject the rest. I adore everything about you, everything that you are. If you can’t accept that, we’re going to have a serious problem.”
I can’t help it. I kiss her, wrapping her hair around my fist. Her words erase the ugliness, each one a precious ablution. She licks all over my mouth, and I feel whole and clean—all the unlovable shit about me washed away.
My eyes prickle, my heart thundering. I finally understand the courtly old love poems I was forced to read in school. If Ava asked me now, I’d gladly climb a jagged mountain barefoot, slay a fire-breathing dragon with my fists, vanquish all those in the way of her happiness and bring her wild flowers to put in her hair.
“I love you, Ava.”
“I love you too, Lucas.
I thumb her prominent cheekbones. “I’ve waited an eternity to hear that.”
“It did take me some time to say it, but it took you while, too.”
My forehead rests against hers. “Only because you vanished after my accident.”
“What do you mean?”
I pull back. She’s too thin—the shadows under her ribs are deeper—and I haven’t forgotten her fainting spell on Friday. “Time to eat.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“I’ll answer it. But after we have lunch.”
“We don’t have to eat right now—”
“Yes, we do.” I hand her the room service menu. “Do you know what I hated the most when hearing about your childhood?”
She blinks.
“I don’t think I told you much.”
“No, but you told me how hungry you were, and I hated that.” I tilt her chin and give her a quick kiss. “You’ve lost weight and you fainted on Friday—”
“That was just some stress…”
“—so you’ll eat.” She still hasn’t opened the menu; I do it for her and push it into her hands.
She glances down at the options, then looks at me. “All right, fine. But if I do eat, I want you to talk to me honestly.”