I arch a brow. “Letting her have my kid without me? Yeah, sounds like a pretty fucked-up plan.”
“Hmm.” She scoops some eggs onto her fork and studies them. “Last I checked, Ava doesn’t do much of anything without you, Jake.” She chews and swallows her bite before turning her attention to Lilly, who’s chattering on about something that happened in school last week.
I’m too distracted by my own thoughts to listen. I know Ava well enough to know that if she’s made up her mind about starting a family on her own, she’s going to do it. Ellie’s dates might slow her down, but unless Ava actually meets someone she can fall for, this summer will begin Operation Pregnancy, as she calls it.
Either she falls in love with someone else or has a baby on her own.
I don’t know which option freaks me out more. But it’s out of my hands. I just need to remember to keep our friendship the priority. Ava knows how I feel about her. I put it all out there almost five years ago. I’m just lucky I didn’t lose her then.
Jake
Five years ago . . .
I rap on the door to Ava’s apartment three times and hold my breath as I wait for the sound of her steps coming toward the door. I’m going to do it. I’m going to tell my best friend how I feel about her.
The weather is a match for my mood—dark gray clouds, hard wind, and a storm that lights up the sky and rumbles through town.
I’ve been trying to find my courage for six months, but after my brother told me that her boyfriend Harrison had her in tears again last night, I’m determined to say something. I’m sick of Harrison taking her for granted and making her feel like shit every time something better comes up and he cancels their plans. I’m sick of him finding ways to push me out of her life. And I’m sick of pretending that I don’t die a little inside every day I have to watch her fall madly in love with someone else.
I’m going to do this, and I’m going to do it now.
When the door swings open and she smiles at me, I shove my hands into my pockets.
“Jake! What are you doing here?” she asks as she steps back to let me in.
As soon as I’m in the door, I relax. This is one of my favorite places to be. Ava has made the apartment her own. She has artificial flowers in vases on her counter, stacks of books on her shelves, and cozy furniture with throw pillows and fuzzy blankets. It’s different than the apartments of other people our age, and to me it feels like home. But maybe that’s just because she lives here.
“Is everything okay?” She grins even as she asks.
Last night’s tears are gone, replaced with a good mood that radiates off her. She’s back to cheerful Ava in an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of soft jeans. Her dark hair is down but mussed in the back, and there’s a romance novel laid open on the arm of the couch. I must have interrupted her while she was reading.
Everything in my chest is coiled into one tight ball. I’m terrified, a fucking coward. Ava’s been my best friend since we were ten, and I’m an idiot because, until she started dating Harrison, I never realized my feelings for her extended beyond friendship. She came home from her first date with him all rosy-cheeked and giddy. “I think he could be the one, Jake.”
Jealousy hit me so hard and fast that I felt like I’d been knocked over.
I tried denying my feelings. Tried waiting them out. Tried dating every beautiful woman within a fifty-mile radius of Jackson Harbor. Nothing worked. Every day, I accepted more and more that my feelings for Ava weren’t going anywhere. And every day she fell harder for the asshole junior lawyer her father set her up with.
“Can we talk?” I ask in a croak.
“Of course.” She shuts the door. “I actually needed to talk to you too. I’m glad you came over.”
“Can I go first?” I have to get this off my chest before I turn into the chicken shit I’ve been for months.
“Sure.” She shrugs and attempts another smile, but now concern is etched into the lines between her brows. My nerves must be obvious. Her brown eyes go soft when they look at me—reminding me that Ava and I have been together in our own way far longer than she and Harrison. The thought gives me the last bit of courage I need.
I open my mouth to speak, but the speech I mentally recited in the car has fled. I don’t want to fumble over the words I need to say. I don’t want to risk her misunderstanding for even a second what I’m here to tell her.
Between one heartbeat and the next, I change my plan. I step toward her, and before she can react, I cup her face in my hands and lower my mouth to hers. I breathe in her scent of flowers. I memorize the heat of the skin at the back of her neck. I take the kiss I’ve imagined for longer than I can remember.
She gasps under me. Her whole body stiffens then relaxes, and for a beat—the sweetest fucking beat in the history of time—she kisses me back. Her hands fist into my shirt, and her lips part. Fuck yes.
The moment is gone as quickly as it came. She releases my shirt and pushes me away. “Jake, stop. What are you doing?”
I search her eyes and see panic and confusion there. “I’m in love with you,” I say. Now, with the taste of her on my lips, the words are easier to find. “I’m in love with you, and I want to be with you.”
She swallows and shakes her head. Her brow creases and her lips part and close again and again, as if she’s speaking but has been muted. “I’m with Harrison,” she finally manages.
“He made you cry last night.” My whole body stiffens. She should be with someone who makes her smile and laugh. Not someone who makes her feel insecure and sad.