I’m hers.AvaI walk into my room, then walk out again, thinking I must have opened the wrong door. But a second glance tells me I’m in the right place.
I blink, glancing around.
My room is spotless. Everything is neatly tidied, with an orange pumpkin on my desk, and a note pinned to my bulletin board.Hey, beautiful:
Hope you don’t mind that I cleaned your room. I wanted to return the favor. You may have lost the bet, but I’ve gone and lost my heart. Give me. Give us a chance.
AndyButterflies. They take flight in my stomach.
He was here. And he cleaned my room.
My heart flutters at the gesture, but at the same time, my cheeks burn remembering the pink vibrator I left under my pillow. The one that I’d used earlier this morning, picturing Andy inside me, his muscled body thrusting hard, perspiration on his forehead as he took me in every position possible.
I whimper, lifting the pillow of the newly made bed and see the vibrator there.
He saw it.
Oh, God.
Embarrassment quickly leaves me as I take in all the details of my room. He must have been here for hours. My books are stacked against the wall and my discarded clothes are in a hamper that I didn’t even know I had. He even dusted the blinds and emptied my wastebasket that was overflowing with crumpled papers.
I never would have pegged Andy Stafford for the romantic type. But maybe I was wrong.
Maybe I was wrong about a lot of things about him.
Casey pokes her head in. “Um, so that guy has it really bad for you?”
“You think?” I chew on my bottom lip.
“Totally.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “You going to give him a chance?”
“I don’t know.”
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
He has my head spinning.
And I’m not sure Casey is the best person to give me advice considering her own relationship history. I need to talk to my mom.
When Casey is gone, I dial my mom’s number and sit on my bed, tucking a pillow against my check. I groan when I see the smutty paperback that I’d been reading last night, knowing Andy would have seen it too.
“Hey, baby girl,” my mom answers. “I didn’t expect to hear from you today.”
“Are you busy?”
“You know I always have time for you. Everything all right?”
No. Everything is not all right. Because I think I might be falling in love with a guy who could shatter my heart into a million pieces. A beautiful, funny, sexy as sin, smart guy who I would never have thought would ever look my way, let alone ask me to date him.
When I don’t answer right away, she asks, “Ava, what’s wrong?”
“I think...” Tears burn my eyes because it terrifies me to even say it. “I think I might be falling for someone.”
“You met a guy?” I hear the smile in her voice.
“He’s not just a guy, he’s...” I sigh. “Everything.”
Everything I want, and nothing I need. Player, bad boy, jock, there are a hundred stereotypes I could and have pegged him as. But maybe I was wrong.
“That’s wonderful. Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I’m scared.”
“You’re afraid he’ll break your heart.”
“Yes.”
A heavy breath echoes on the other end of the receiver. “Oh, baby girl, you’ve always been so afraid to take chances. To give your heart. But that’s part of life. Sometimes the risks pay off--”
“And sometimes it doesn’t. Dad--”
“You can’t think every guy is like your father, Ava. He left because he was afraid of commitment.”
“And what if Andy is too? What if I give him my heart, and he walks away.”
“Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.”
“You’re quoting Shakespeare now?”
She chuckles. “It’s Tennyson, and you should know that.”
I grunt. “Do you really believe that? Even after dad hurt you?”
“I loved your dad, and we had some wonderful moments together. Moments I would never take back. Plus, he gave me you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
When I hang up, I hug the pillow closer to my chest. What had Andy said the last time I saw him?
You can never get struck by lightning if you aren’t willing to walk in the rain.
The thing is, I already feel like I’ve been struck. By him. And it’s both amazing and painful and insane all at the same time.
I scroll through my numbers on my phone and find him. It rings several times and I’m about to hang up when he answers.
“Ava?”
“Hey.” Even I can hear the nerves in my voice. “I... uh wanted to say thank you for cleaning my room.”
“You got my note?”
“I did.”
The silence stretches between us and I know he’s waiting for an answer.
“I think I’m ready to take that walk in the rain,” I say softly.
I hear his heavy breath like he’d been holding it in.
“But, Andy...”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not used to taking chances. I’m not the kind of girl who likes to get wet.” Oh God, did I just say that? I was totally trying to play off his analogy, but it came out all wrong.