Ava (A Hart Twins Novel Rx Book 1)

by Charyse Allan

  Ava

  Charyse Allan

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Charyse Allan

  All rights reserved

  Cover design by Grace My Canvas

  Edited by Hot Tree Editing

  Interior Designed by Polgarus Studio

  No part of this book may reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Daniel. Our love story kicks ass.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Excerpt: Mia’s story

  Acknowledgments

  Meet Charyse!

  Prologue

  Before this moment—on the verge of nothingness, at the hands of someone I should have suspected—I had it all figured out… at least, for the most part. There was a perfect-sized box for everything in my life. The details fit nicely in their own little containers, and I could sort them and stack them as I pleased, so long as no one messed with my system.

  Chaos wasn’t even an option—it wasn’t tolerated.

  With his hands wrapped around my throat—his sweat dripping on my face, my nails digging into his knuckles—he told me why, he told me who was to blame, but it made no sense. Until the darkness came and choked me with guilt, with regret, with self-loathing.

  I thought there would be nothing when I finally passed out, but her face was there, tears running down her cheeks, smack in the middle of the black. She told me I should have been there, should have paid closer attention, should have helped her, even when she pushed everyone away.

  She wasn’t to blame. No. The rest of us were. But I was too focused on the chaos my life had become, too busy trying to shove everything back in its box, while ignoring those who mattered most.

  If I ever woke again, would she be there? Would she be okay? Was there still time to help her?

  There had to be.

  Chapter One

  Ava

  Rain droplets seeped through the hood snuggly pulled over my hair while I rushed toward the covered awning where the small food cart was. It was a blessing I hadn’t done anything special with my hair that day, just bunching it into the short curls it usually ended in on a rainy day such as this.

  My beeping phone had been beckoning me since I left my last class, so I pulled it out to listen to the voice mail from an unknown number. The woman’s grating voice rang out of the speaker, making me cringe while waiting in the long line of starving teens. It was the lady from the Hilton, returning my call to confirm the venue for prom. Her explanation of how the ballroom had been mistakenly double-booked for that day had me grinding my teeth. Like hell would I make other arrangements with her simply because the other client was “higher priority.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I growled after deleting the message. A few kids turned curious stares in my direction, but I only shrugged.

  I may have been well known at school, since I was on the student council, the head of the prom planning committee, and captain of the dance team, but those things didn’t make me popular by any means. Those positions were mine for the same reason I was elected to make the arrangements with the venue for prom—I was stubborn as hell and never took “no” for an answer. Since I was going to have to take care of this issue as well, I immediately redialed the lady’s number.

  “This is Betsy,” the woman answered.

  “Hi, this is Ava. I’m calling to speak with you about the ballroom I reserved for Lincoln High School’s prom over two months ago,” I said, letting her know right off the bat how the conversation was going to go. I stepped forward in the line approaching the cart, the scents of pizza and french fries making my stomach growl.

  “Ah, yes.” Betsy sighed with what sounded like faux sympathy. “I’m glad you returned my call. As I said in my voice mail, someone mistakenly double-booked the ballroom for the date you requested. The other person is on our high-priority list, and it just so happens they booked it a few weeks before you did. I understand you already provided your deposit, so we would be willing to reschedule for a different date or reserve one of our smaller rooms for you.”

  “That is not happening,” I clipped out. “I am certain if I came and looked over your records it would be our event that was scheduled first, unless someone forged documents. I made sure to be very clear with the man I spoke to—I believe his name was Rick—and he assured me the ballroom was available for the nineteenth of April.”

  A quick nod at Tim, who stood behind the food cart, earned me a big smile, along with a paper plate of greasy pizza and a bottle of Dr. Pepper. After paying him, he gave me a wink when I went on, before Betsy could interrupt my rant. “Now, you can either fix this problem, making sure Lincoln High is the one who gets the ballroom on said date or you can return the deposit to us immediately. I need to know right now, since we are only a couple months out and I need to make arrangements accordingly.”

  “Now, young lady—”

  “Uh-uh,” I cut her off, adjusting my phone to accommodate for my food, before heading back into the drizzle. “Don’t ‘young lady’ me. It is available or you’re giving me back the deposit—it’s that simple. So which is it?”

  “Wow, Ava.” She chuckled as if I amused her, making me close my eyes for a millisecond to collect myself. “You’ll be a great businesswoman one day. So maybe in the future you will understand why I have to make adjustments for this other group. But I assure you, one of our smaller rooms would work just—”

  “No, thank you,” I cut in again, approaching the door to the chemistry building. “I’m sure it would probably work just fine, but I would rather take our business elsewhere—somewhere that’s going to care about the group they will be hosting. I will expect our deposit back in three business days and for you to accommodate any students who may have made reservations already. I already am a great businesswoman. Therefore, I know it is never okay for a business to treat a client as you have. You have a good day, Betsy.”

  I hung up before she could say anything else and went for the door, bu
t a large, ebony hand reached out before I could grab it. A glance behind me showed all six feet four inches of Mason looming over me. He wore an amused smile, and I mostly succeeded at holding back my glare. His chocolate-brown eyes sparkled with delight.

  “You’re a hard-ass, Av.” He laughed before pulling the door open for me like a gentleman.

  Moving into the hallway with a huff, I plopped onto the floor next to the chem lab door. “Don’t tease me right now, Mase.” I sat my food and drink on the floor, then pulled my coat off. Shoving my brown curls from my face, I leaned my head against the wall, heaving out a big sigh.

  He slumped down next to me with his three bean burritos and bottle of Sprite, his long, jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him. “You make it hard not to.” He nudged my shoulder and dug into a burrito. Gross.

  My own food made me grimace, my appetite now nonexistent under the coil of knots in my stomach. I may have sounded like a hard-ass, but inside I was frantically pacing back and forth, trying to think up a new venue for prom. Add on the million other things I had on my plate, and I was certain to be chewing on my nails in the near future.

  The door to the building opened again, and my bestie, Rabia, appeared, clutching her purple lunch box to her chest. Just the sight of her lifted my spirits. The three of us had been best friends since first grade. We all hit it off as kids and never turned our backs on one another. Even when I joined the student council and dance team, I stuck with my buddies and never glanced back, rather than befriending the popular crowd, who barely tolerated me as it was.

  “Hey, guys.” Rabia smiled, her gorgeous, olive skin crinkling around her eyes. She slid to the floor across from us. “Only eighty-three more days,” she exclaimed.

  “Ugh, don’t mention that,” I groaned, picking at my now-cold pizza, damning Betsy for ruining my lunch.

  “Av’s having a rough day.” Mase patted my leg while Rabia gave me a concerned look.

  “Ha, ‘rough’ doesn’t even begin to explain this day.”

  “What happened?” Rabia asked, tugging on her long, black braid.

  Before I could answer, the door opened again, letting in a cool breeze, followed by Cade. My heart wrenched as it did every time I saw him, which was every day at lunch, between most of my classes, and on the rare weekend I had time to hang out with my friends. This last addition to our group—sexy, complicated Cade—joined us in tenth grade, after moving from Seattle.

  He would sit alone in the cafeteria, barely speaking to anyone, until Mason invited him to join us one day. Our group took him in from that moment on. He and I tried out the whole dating thing over the summer between tenth and eleventh grade, but it never stuck, due to my complicated schedule. So we settled for… friendship.

  Watching him strut toward us in his worn jeans, which hugged his posterior just right, I would have loved to be his girlfriend and get my hands all over those broad, muscular shoulders that his rain-speckled T-shirt stretched over nicely. He sat down next to Rabia after shaking his dripping wet hair out like a dog and giving us a crooked smile. My heart went thump. Being a tough chick ninety-nine percent of the time came easy to me, but when this kid showed up, I melted into a gooey puddle—he had no idea.

  “What were we talking about?” he asked, before taking a drink of his soda.

  “Ava was about to tell us why her day is so bad,” Rabia explained while pulling multiple Tupperware dishes from her lunch box.

  “You’re having a bad day?” His eyebrows knit together as he watched me, making my skin feel as if it were on fire.

  “It’s nothing.” With a shrug I studied my pizza, effectively escaping the spell of his gaze. “I just had a firm conversation with the event coordinator of the Hilton.”

  “Firm conversation?” Mason busted out laughing, forcing my hand on the glare I’d been holding back. “You sounded like you were ready to kick someone’s ass!”

  “The Hilton?” Rabia inquired, speaking over Mason’s snorting. “I thought you had everything ironed out with the venue?”

  “I did.” My shoulders slumped, defeat and exhaustion seeping into my bones. “Until the bitch, Betsy, called to tell me they double-booked the ballroom and we would have to make different arrangements. She tried to get me to go with a smaller room, but I was not having it. So we’re getting our deposit back, and I have to figure something else out real fast.”

  “But I already reserved a room,” Mason grumbled, picking at lint on his jeans.

  “Dude, there was no way you were going to bag Rachel anyway.” Cade gave him a sympathetic look, but the corners of his lips twitched.

  “Rachel?” I balked, forgetting my anger for a brief moment. “As in Rachel Mulligan?” Mason pressed his lips together before looking in the opposite direction. “Aren’t Mormon girls super prudish”

  Rabia almost choked laughing, and Cade gave me that crooked smile, his bright green eyes sparkling, which had me breaking out in a cold sweat in a very unattractive way.

  “Not all of them are prudes.” Mason crossed his arms over his chest, frowning at his burrito.

  Poor guy. “Mase,” I said, trying for gentle. I patted his arm. “Rachel’s a sweet girl, but even if she did agree to go to prom with you, I get the feeling she would pass on the room.”

  He only shrugged, so I turned my gaze back to Rabia and Cade. “Besides, I told Betsy to work with the students who already made reservations, so if you gave them a deposit on the room, they should refund it. And if they don’t, let me know and I’ll chew her out again.”

  “That’s not called chewing out.” Mason guffawed, his mopiness vanishing into thin air. “That’s what we call giving someone a what for.”

  He got us laughing and onto an easier conversation for a few minutes while we ate. Only two bites of my pizza had made it past my lips before my phone beeped again. It was a text from Kelsey, the choreographer of one of the intermediate dances in the concert.

  Are you coming?

  “Dammit,” I muttered, shooting a quick text back.

  Two minutes.

  “Sorry, guys.” A glance at my friends showed eyes full of knowing and pity. My heart sank to my gut. “Kelsey is running a lunch practice, and I forgot I told her I would watch their dance.” After gathering my stuff, I shot to my feet, announcing, “I’ll catch you all later.”

  “I’ll see you at your car.” Rabia gave me a wave.

  “See ya.” Mason barely glanced at me after getting back to his third burrito.

  Cade glared at his food, not saying a word, so I left before anyone could notice the disappointment I was certain showed on my face. Thankfully, it was no longer raining, though my hair was already a lost cause. After tossing my trash, I started toward the gym, but someone gripping my elbow had me spinning around with a gasp. Cade was close enough to kiss, his eyes shifting back and forth, the green depths of them seeming to glow.

  “Cade,” I choked out, having to draw back in order to think straight… or something.

  He held my gaze for the longest minute, my heart pounding away, before he blinked rapidly and dropped his hand from my arm. After clearing his throat, he took a step back, obviously not realizing I had stopped breathing. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow?” How was I supposed to even recall the day of the week when he was in such close proximity?

  “Yeah, tomorrow’s Saturday.” The look he wore made me feel as if I had certainly lost my mind.

  “Don’t you work on Saturdays?” was the most intelligent response I could summon.

  “No, I got the weekend off,” he told me, still giving me an intense look I practically fell into. Jeez, his eyes were the best things to get lost in, especially when he was taking up all my personal space.

  “Um.” My throat sealed itself shut, the potency of his closeness too much to handle. After swallowing multiple times, I cleared it before rasping, “If I have the venue figured out by then, I should be.”

  “Well, figure it ou
t and keep tomorrow free, yeah?”

  “Um, sure. I’ll try.”

  “No, I’m serious,” he insisted, eyes growing wide. “No dance stuff, no student council shit, no homework. One. Free. Night.”

  The need to snap at him, to tell him he couldn’t boss me around, couldn’t butt into my business, was overwhelming, but one free night with him sounded amazing. On top of that, I hadn’t taken a night off in almost two months.

  “Okay, one night.”

  “Good.” A smile crept over his lips, making my heart stutter, turning me into a complete lovesick idiot staring at him. “I’ll text you later.”

  I could only watch him walk away with a satisfied grin. It took a few moments and multiple deep breaths before I remembered what I was supposed to be doing and hurried for the gym.

  Chapter Two

  Kelsey leaned close to me to whisper, “That was a lot longer than two minutes,” while the group shook their spanky-clad behinds to Beyoncé. Her arms were crossed over her enormous boobs, which were barely concealed by her tiny, pink tank top. The strong scent of some Victoria's Secret perfume shoved its way up my nasal passage.

  I angry-whispered, "Don’t start with me, Kelsey."

  These kinds of dances were so cliché, but there were always at least a few of them in a concert. Luckily, as captain of the team, I was only allowing two in our concert. A sigh of relief had to be held in when the dance ended. The group was off, still needing work, which added to my stress level since we were only one month away from Hell Week. Ms. Keller would rip her hair out if this group didn’t step up.

  “This needs work, Kelsey,” I kept my voice low.

  “Of course you think it does, Ava.” She tossed her long, auburn hair over a shoulder. Somehow, she kept it from frizzing throughout the day, lucky bitch. “That’s a wrap, girls. See you all tomorrow,” she directed at the group, who gathered their things and headed out the door, before telling me, “I think they are doing great. They’ll be perfect by Hell Week.”