I stared up at my reflection and focused on the dark circles beneath my bloodshot eyes. I was a mess. It was the most restless night of my life, because, while I was happy that Avery had done the right thing for himself, it’d been at my expense.
I still had to find a way to come up with thousands of dollars. I couldn’t expect Avery to foot the bill . . . not when he wasn’t getting what he’d asked for in return. When it was a business exchange, I was all-in, because I had to be. But now I was back to where I’d started—broke, and with no option for paying the debt.
“Roz,” Carter said, sliding off my bed. “Why are you acting like you don’t care?”
“About what?”
“Avery. The fact that he is okay?”
“I do care.”
“I know you do. You’ve gone from angry to despondent, so it’s clear you still care. All of us can see it. So why are you so afraid to show it?”
I pressed my lips together, trying to swallow the feelings I’d hoped to ignore. But there was a simple answer to the question she asked—one I couldn’t bring myself to admit out loud.
Before Avery showed up in Sutton Woods, I’d refused to show I cared because I thought I didn’t. I’d convinced myself I’d given up on him. I was angry, fueled by raw emotion. I needed to hate him.
But after last night, I’d realized there was a whole lot more to my anger. The pain was so new and so real, and it left me guarded. Scared. Suddenly unable to trust anyone.
Someone I loved had broken that trust, and my fears and insecurities were only compounded by what Avery had done. It was one bad blow right after another, and I was slipping.
I’d lost so much faith in the people around me that I’d even stooped so low as to doubt Wes Barrett’s intentions, and he was the nicest guy I’d ever met.
I was frustrated by Avery’s mistakes; I was big enough to admit that. But it wasn’t until our conversation on the porch that I realized my frustration with Avery wasn’t personal at all; he was nothing more than a victim of my misplaced blame. I’d only hated him because he represented everything that’d gone wrong in my life—my anger, my skepticism, my constant distrust. My heartbreak.
All along, I’d blamed him, because it was easier to blame the guy I didn’t know. I could be mad at Avery. He didn’t sleep in the next room; I didn’t have to face him every day.
He wasn’t my kid brother . . .
Hating Avery was the easiest way to mask the heartache Daniel had caused. That’s why I couldn’t show I cared. Because if I admitted that the Avery stuff wasn’t bothering me anymore, my friends would dig and claw their way to the bottom of what was really going on, and Daniel’s secret wasn’t one I was going to share with them.
“Listen, as a fan, I get it,” Carter said, reading into my dark expression. “You’re upset. And you’re allowed to be upset for a while. But then you have to let it go, you know? Take a step back and remember that he’s only human. He made a mistake. I mean, come on. Aren’t we all guilty of that at some point?”
“Yes, but—”
“He’s trying. That’s got to count for something, right?”
“Right,” I said, wondering if her same speech applied to Daniel. Could I get over what he’d done? Move past it? Chalk this up to a simple human mistake and leave it in the past?
No. I knew I never could.
The truth was pretty simple: I could only blame Avery for so long, and I could only blame Sara Oliver for so much. When it came right down to it, the real person behind all of my anger and sadness slept one room away. And I hated him. I despised Daniel for the position he’d put our family in, and I didn’t know if I could ever forgive him.
Chapter Seven
It was the longest day of my life, and I attributed a lot of that to the nervousness clenched in my chest every time I remembered Avery was coming for dinner. Suddenly I was eager to see him again, to apologize for all the things I’d said and done—for every word that was hurtful or out of line.
Carter’s visit weighed heavy on my mind, and while I knew I couldn’t explain my backward behavior to my friend, I could at least try to make it up to Avery, and that was exactly what I intended to do.
The key to getting through the day was distraction. I spent the morning and afternoon cooped up in the house, doing laundry, cleaning my room, and taking a long shower. I even turned the TV on in my room, but I hadn’t watched much of anything before the doorbell rang.
And I knew it was Avery the moment I looked at the clock. He was right on time. I rushed to the hallway, but I’d barely made it to the top step before Dad swung open the door.
“Mr. Bingham?” Avery’s voice carried upstairs, and I held my breath. “Hi, I’m—”
“Wait, aren’t you that guy?” Dad asked. I closed my eyes, praying he would handle this introduction better than the time he’d met the Cedar Lake meteorologist. He’d kinda geeked out and embarrassed the entire family. “You are him—the one from TV.”
“Yes, sir,” Avery said. “And I—”
“Holy hell, it’s you.” I didn’t have to see Dad’s face to know he was stunned. Dad never cursed. Never.
“Oh, he’s here?” Mom asked, meeting my father at the door. Her footsteps stopped short, and I distinctly heard her draw a sharp breath. The gasp echoed up to the second floor. “Oh my . . . wow. Okay. Roz didn’t prepare us for you. Avery Chase, is it?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Dad snapped his finger. “Avery Chase. How’s it going, man?”
There was a moment of pause, and I could just imagine poor Avery standing there, his uncomfortable smile masking his nerves. I didn’t want to make him suffer any longer than he had to, so I made my way down the stairs to spare him from the inevitable awkwardness that would ensue.
“You’re gonna let him in, right?” I asked. Dad opened the door wider, and Avery stepped in.
“Mrs. Bingham,” he said, passing a bouquet of flowers to my mother. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
A vein jumped in her neck. “For me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
While each of us stood waiting for Mom’s thanks, it never followed his nod. She wouldn’t even look him in the eye. Instead, she turned to me, a cold stare fixed in my direction.
“Roz?” she said. “Did you forget—”
“A few tiny details, yeah,” I said, and my stomach lurched. Why was she looking at me like that? She and I both knew she would’ve never believed the truth, so this was the only way. “Everything I told you was true, but—”
“Avery’s the guy? He’s the one who hit your car?”
“Yeah, about that,” Dad said, still focused on our guest. “We should talk. When can we expect to—”
“Dad?” I cut in. “Avery has every intention of talking to you this evening about the car, but can you not jump down his throat before he’s had time to take off his jacket?”
Not that he needed to take it off; turns out Avery could make a black leather jacket look like a million dollars layered on top of a white button-down. His hair was even trimmed a little shorter than it was yesterday. He looked handsome as ever as he smiled at my family. But he wasn’t getting the same warm reception from them that he was giving off, and a wave of guilt got the best of me.
Had I just shoved this poor helpless guy straight into a shark tank? It sure seemed that way, and I couldn’t help but feel like I’d royally screwed up.
“I’m going to put these in water,” Mom said, smelling the flowers for the first time. “Jay, can we talk?”
Dad took a step to follow her but stopped, looking at Avery once again. He didn’t want to leave, that much was clear. Whether he was concocting an elaborate excuse to stick around and make small talk with the big-time celebrity, or he was figuring out another way to approach the car repayment, I couldn’t tell. Either way, he wanted to hang around, but Mom wasn’t having it; she dragged him to the kitchen with her free hand.
Once my parents were out of earshot, I turned to A
very.
“No shame in running away?” I asked, quoting his online post, which was a direct quote from yours truly.
“You were right. It was time to own it.”
“And one speech was all it took?”
“I’m easily motivated,” he said, a smile forcing his dimples out of hiding.
I tried to think of a quick response, but God, that smile; it disarmed me. As if it was Saturday night all over again, I couldn’t seem to force a single word out of my mouth. Maybe reality hadn’t quite caught up with me, because I was still at the mercy of his smile. Something about him compelled me to freeze; it was a blissful buzz of warmth and affection that I could only imagine was lust.
There was no other explanation for it.
I stuttered, somehow pushing through a full sentence.
“So what’s the deal, then?”
“The deal?”
“You’ve broken your silence,” I said, clearing my throat, knocking the nerves out of my voice. “Does that mean you’re still in hiding?”
“I suppose they’ll find me eventually,” he said, and I assumed they meant the press. “But I’m not going to hide away in fear of that moment. It’s time to roll with the punches. Let life happen however it’s going to happen.”
I smiled. “That’s a good attitude.”
“And that might be the first time you’ve ever smiled at me.” There was an enormous sense of pride in the grin that stretched across his lips.
Finally feeling the surge of confidence I needed to apologize, I opened my mouth, ready to clear the air between us, but then Mom called us into the dining room for dinner, and I lost the perfect opportunity to express my regrets to Avery.
I wanted so badly to tell him I was sorry for how I’d treated him—to tell him that I fully understood that his personal life was none of my business, and I had no right to take my anger out on him. I wanted to explain why I had overreacted, because I felt it was important that he knew it wasn’t him. But with Mom calling us for a second time, I’d missed this chance. I could only hope for a few quiet minutes after dinner to pull him aside, because Avery deserved nothing less than my heartfelt apology.
~
Mom and Dad took their usual seats at the ends of the table, and I took my routine spot between them. Daniel’s chair was up for grabs tonight because he’d gone out to visit with some friends, so Avery ended up across from me.
Dad was awestruck; it was the Channel-2-meteorologist evening all over again. He watched Avery, seemingly high on disbelief that a famous actor was sitting at his dining room table.
Mom wasn’t impressed with Avery. She rarely glanced in his direction, and when she did, it was always paired with a grimace.
“Wes says your car was only worth eight hundred dollars,” Dad said, taking it upon himself to start the conversation. Apparently he refused to let this one topic rest during dinner. I hadn’t had a chance to take a single bite before he brought it up. “I called him this morning.”
“Eight hundred dollars?” I asked. “That’s it?”
“It’s more than I would’ve expected.”
Avery sat a little taller in his chair as if this was the first time he’d heard the quote. “She can’t buy a new car with that kind of money. That’s nothing.”
Dad shrugged. “But enough to make up for the damage.”
“Oh, I understand that, but I can’t in good conscience settle this without leaving Roz with as much, or more, than she had before Saturday night.”
“We understand there may be an insurance issue here,” Dad said. “So we’ll settle for the eight hundred dollars—no more, no less.”
“That seems reasonable,” I said.
“Too reasonable,” Avery added, looking between my parents. “I’ll gladly pay whatever you’re asking for, but I’d also like to replace the car.”
“That’s not your place,” I said, but Avery turned to Dad.
“Mr. Bingham, hold me accountable. Roz was the first to point out that I need to fight for what I want, and I’m asking for a clear conscience. Please. I can’t victimize your family and walk away like it never happened.”
“But accidents happen,” Dad said. “Heck, I’d totaled two cars by the time I was your age. Cut yourself some slack.”
“No, sir,” Avery argued. His tone remained cool and calm, as it always did. But the passion was in his eyes; there was no mistaking that. “Please let me buy your daughter a new car.”
My lips slipped open, and Mom’s hands folded over her mouth. Avery had made up his mind; he knew how he wanted to settle this, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I’d like to take her shopping,” Avery said. “I owe her that.”
“That’s very generous, son, but—”
“Please,” he begged, and I swear my heart stopped.
His persistence was matchless, and it was wearing on Dad; my father looked to me and shrugged, as if he had no idea how to argue against someone who only meant to even the score—even if Avery’s idea of evening the score went far beyond generosity. It was preposterous! How could he think he owed me so much?
“I could take her out shopping for a brand new—”
“No,” Dad said, putting his hand up. His expression grew darker as his eyes drifted down to the table. Dad’s crinkled face was evidence enough he was searching for a more reasonable solution, one that both he and Avery would be comfortable with. “If I allow you to do this, it has to be used.”
Avery’s lip twitched. “But worth at least 10K?”
“One thousand,” Dad said. “That’s more than enough.”
“That’s barely more than the last one was worth,” Avery said. “Eight thousand.”
“Two?” Dad negotiated.
“Seven.”
“Three?”
“Six thousand,” Avery said, and Dad gnawed his bottom lip. “What do you say, Mr. Bingham? Do we have a deal?”
“I want to go with you,” Dad said. “You’re not buying anything until I’ve approved it first.”
“Of course,” Avery said.
“Okay.” Dad lifted his fork. “Then it’s settled.”
“Hello?” I asked, waving both hands, attracting their attention. “Do I get a say in any of this?”
“No,” they both said, but at least Avery grinned in my direction. Dad was too busy enjoying the meal he’d put on hold.
Silence settled for a few minutes, but then Mom turned her brown eyes on our guest sitting across from me.
“Why are you here, Avery?” Mom asked. “What brings you to town?”
I sat taller. Dad did, too.
“I’ve had a pretty rough go of it lately,” he admitted, seemingly unashamed. “I turned to my mother for advice, and she suggested I get away to clear my head. Sutton Woods was far enough away for comfort, and I knew it’d be a nice retreat. Wes Barrett’s an old family friend, and all it took was one call, an explanation, and he offered me a place to crash for as long as I needed it. I saw my first chance to get away, so I did.”
“So you’ll be around for a while, then?” Mom asked, gritting her teeth.
“At least through the weekend.”
“Perfect.” Dad perked up. “We’ll leave on Saturday. We’ll all drive out to Cedar Lake and check out the used car lots. We could stop at the park, rent a cabin for the night, and make a family trip of it. It’s settled.”
“Nothing’s settled.”
“Yeah,” I said, interrupting Mom before she could say anything out of line. “You can’t just make plans and assume everyone will go along with it. Did you consider asking Avery if he’d want to—”
“I can write a check for the car,” Avery said. “I wouldn’t want to impose on family time.”
“Nonsense,” Dad said, ignoring Mom’s scowl. He was completely oblivious to the death glare she’d locked in his direction. “You’re absolutely welcome to tag along. Any friend of Roz’s is like family to us.”
“Dad, stop,” I
said. “It’s a nice offer, but we can’t go out of town this weekend.”
“Why not?”
“Her friends are coming over Sunday afternoon,” Mom said.
“Then she can reschedule,” he said, but then his eyes rounded as if a thought occurred to him. “Oh, right. Your birthday party.”
“Exactly,” I said, looking between the three of them. “We’ll figure out a time to go shopping. In the meantime, can we just stop talking about this and eat? Please?”
~
Dinner went by quickly. Avery insisted on clearing the table and doing the dishes, so he and Mom spent twenty minutes in the kitchen together, chatting about God only knows what. Avery wasn’t as oblivious as my father. Offering to help my mom, alone and in close quarters, he was walking into a deathtrap. And he knew it. So why was he trying so hard to impress her?
I wanted to eavesdrop, but Dad pulled me away, asking a million questions about his new favorite celebrity. While Mom seemed to plot his death, Dad was in awe of my new “friend.” Avery had made an impression on him, which was a pretty big deal.
Dad didn’t keep up on current happenings in Hollywood. His celebrity arsenal was limited to facts about John Wayne and Clint Eastwood . . . or any famous athlete who played on an NFL team. So his knowledge of Avery basically started and ended with the fact that his teenage daughter used to have posters of him all over her bedroom—and thank God I’d taken them down weeks ago! No doubt Dad would’ve been eager to show them off as soon as Avery walked through the door.
My father was completely unaware of what was going on in our house tonight, and a lot of that was because he was oblivious to any of Avery’s recent scandals. It was probably best if it stayed that way. I wanted Dad to go on believing that Avery was the kind, handsome, and charming young man he’d met at his front door.
Mom, on the other hand, wasn’t going to be so easy to please. She knew everything, and she was seething. It didn’t take a detective to conclude that she didn’t want him or his sordid reputation anywhere near our family. As soon as he was gone, I could count on her urging that I stay far away from Avery during his remaining days in Sutton Woods. Take the money and run. You don’t need that kind of boy in your life.
Where You Belong Page 6
