First and Forever: Heartache Duet Book 2

by McLean, Jay

  “Because I don’t want him to feel like I don’t trust him.”

  “Ava.” I tap her leg, motion for her to get up. “He’d be expecting you to call.”

  She gets to her feet. “You think?”

  “I know.” I stand, too, and take her hand. “Let’s go out front and call so you can stop worrying.”

  The news about Duke must’ve spread like wildfire because it seemed like I was stopped every few seconds for pats on the back and congratulations while trying to make it to the front door. It takes a good half hour for Ava and me to get to the front yard, down the long-ass driveway, and onto the sidewalk where it’s finally quiet enough to hear our own thoughts.

  Ava pulls her phone out of her back pocket and dials Trevor’s number. When she notices me leaning in to listen to the call, she puts it on speaker and holds it up between us.

  Trevor answers with a “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Ava says. “I was just checking in.”

  “I knew you would,” Trevor says through a chuckle. “Everything’s fine. Your mom’s out like a light. I’ve checked on her a few times, and now I’m going to bed.”

  “Okay, she took her meds?”

  “Yes.”

  I squeeze her hand. “And there’s no glass—”

  “No.”

  “And has she—”

  “Ava!” Trevor cuts in. “Everything’s good. Trust me, all right?”

  Ava’s shoulders drop. “Yeah, I do… I was just…”

  “Worried,” he finishes for her. “But don’t be. We’re all good.” He pauses a beat. “Hey, why don’t you stay at Connor’s tonight?”

  She looks up at me, her eyes wide and questioning.

  I nod, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

  “If that’s okay with you?” she says into the phone.

  “Yeah,” Trevor responds. “It’s fine. I’ll even get up and make her breakfast so you can sleep in.”

  “Are you serious right now?” Ava mumbles, almost in tears.

  “Yeah, and I’ll be here until Krystal gets in.”

  “Trevor…”

  “Hey, I’ll even call the school and tell them you’re sick.”

  Ava stares at me, her mouth agape. She asks Trevor, “What have you done to my brother?”

  He chuckles. “Hey, Ava. I need you to promise me something, okay?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Have a good night and quit stressing!”

  Ava laughs once. “I will.”

  “Good, I’ll see you when I get home from work tomorrow.” He hangs up without another word, and Ava’s eyes are huge when she looks up at me. “What just happened?”

  “I don’t know, but don’t question it.”

  “So we have the whole night.”

  “And all of tomorrow…”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “The possibilities are endless.”

  She looks back at the house. “Do you want to drink away your loss until you can’t feel your face?”

  I chuckle. “Kind of, yeah.”

  Ava

  Back in the pool house, we sit around with the people Connor’s spent the most time with since he got here. The only girls here are me and Karen, and it’s kind of perfect.

  I’m buzzed.

  Connor is drunk. And drunk Connor is a hundred times goofier than sober Connor.

  Mitch makes a crack about Karen’s mom, and Karen threatens to stab him in the dick with a dart she’s holding for some unknown reason. Connor removes his arm from around me to fish out his phone, his lids heavy, thumbs slow to move as he goes through his contacts trying to find a number. He gets to Shit-For-Brains-Mitch and dials. I giggle, watching Mitch take his phone from his pocket and hold it to his ear, his eyes narrowed on Connor sitting on the floor opposite him. “What?” Mitch answers.

  Connor slurs his words. “Hey, man. I have a question.”

  “Okay?”

  “What has a small dick and hangs down?”

  “What?”

  “A bat.”

  “And…?”

  Everyone watches the conversation, their heads moving from side to side.

  Connor says, “What has a big dick and hangs up?”

  “What?” Mitch responds.

  Connor hangs up, and the room fills with the kind of laughter that comes with drunken idiots and stupid jokes. “Confirm or deny, Ava?” Oscar asks.

  “I mean, I don’t have a lot of sources, but I’d say it’s pretty fucking big.”

  “Burn!” Mitch yells, looking at Rhys.

  And I’m too late to realize what I’ve just said. “No, that’s not what I—”

  Connor covers my mouth with his palm. “That’s absolutely what she meant.”

  Rhys glares at Connor. One second. Two. Then he busts out a laugh. “Thank god you’re finally getting laid. We’d all started calling you Mary behind your back.”

  “Mary?” Connor asks, confused as he turns to me for answers.

  “Virgin Mary.”

  “Ohhh.” He nods, slowly, his lids heavy.

  “How was your first time?” Oscar asks him, and I don’t know how we got to this conversation. Is this what guys talk about?

  Connor says, “The first six seconds, I was kind of nervous. But the last six… that was fucking money!”

  I use his bicep to block my cackle, but I’m the only one who tries to keep it together. Everyone else has lost it. “I need another drink,” I announce.

  Connor stands up. “I got you.”

  I get to my feet. “I’ll come with.”

  In the corner of the room, a bar cart is set up with as many different spirits as you’d like. Connor grabs a bottle of tequila and a few packets of salt, plus some lemon wedges. He turns to me, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Then he steps forward, his mouth to my ear. “Would salt hurt on your pus—”

  “Connor!”

  He ignores me, moves closer again until his front’s pressed against mine. “Because I could lick that all night.” He puts all the things back on the cart and leans against a wall, tugging on my top until I’m standing between his legs. Dipping his head, he kisses my neck, his lips parted, tongue leaving a trail of wetness across my jaw until his mouth finds mine. His hand slides down my back, resting on my ass. He squeezes once. Hard. And I jerk against his touch, pulling away. Eyebrows raised, he stares me down, taunting, teasing. “You’re very handsy when you’ve been drinking,” I say through a giggle.

  “I can’t help it. You’re hot.” He kisses me again, his tongue soft when he uses it to part my lips. I tilt my head, get lost in the moment with him. Minutes pass, and I can feel the heat start burning inside me, feel his hardness press against my stomach. He pulls away before I’m ready, his eyes on mine. “Do you think you’d be interested in me if you still lived in a house like this?”

  “And that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”

  “Is it, though?”

  “My mom was in the military, Connor. It doesn’t pay shit, obviously. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in. The house was the only thing her parents left her, and I wasn’t raised like”—I circle a finger in the air—“this.”

  He dips his head again, and I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he says, “I once had dinner here, and they had two different sized forks.”

  I laugh under my breath.

  “And knives. And spoons, too. And I’m pretty sure I ate a pigeon.”

  My head tilts back with the force of my guffaw. “You probably did.”

  His eyes soak me in. “I love watching you laugh.”

  My heart soars. “I love you.”

  He smiles, standing to full height again. “Did you have a pool house?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Did you have a game room?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Did you have wings?”

  I giggle. “None of the houses on the other side of the road are as extrava
gant as this, but we had the lake.”

  “The lake?”

  I nod.

  “There’s a fucking lake?”

  I can’t help but laugh at his response. “Yes.”

  “Jesus. In Florida, we had swamps.”

  “With gators?” I ask.

  “I’ve never seen one.”

  “You had endless summers.”

  “And deadly acts of nature.”

  “Do you miss Florida?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head, adamant. “I have everything I need right here.” He takes my hand, kisses the inside of my wrist. “Do you miss the lake?”

  “Yeah,” I admit. “We had a little patio that sat out over the water, and whenever Mom was home from deployment, we’d sit out there, watch the fireflies, and talk all night about anything and everything.” A lump forms in my throat. “I miss that patio, and I miss that version of her.”

  “She’s still there,” he assures, tapping at his heart. “In here.”

  I wipe my sudden tears on his shirt, wondering how it is he can make me feel so much in so little time.

  “Let’s go,” he says, dragging me toward the door.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To your patio.”

  “Connor!” I dig my heels into the floor, stopping him. When he turns to me, I tell him, “You can’t just go onto someone’s property and sit out in their yard.”

  “Bullshit,” Connor scoffs. “Watch me.”

  Only minutes later, we’re standing on the porch of my old house. Connor looks down at me with the goofiest grin on his face, before raising his fist and knocking twice.

  I grasp on to his arm. “This is stupid. Let’s just go.” I start to pull him away just as the front door opens.

  A middle-aged man pops his head out. Brow knitted, he asks, “Can I help you?”

  “Hello, sir,” Connor says, tightening his hold on my hand so I don’t run. “My name’s Connor Ledger, and this is—”

  “Who is it?” a woman says from somewhere inside. The man opens the door wider and his, I assume, wife appears next to him. She looks first at Connor, then at me, her eyes widening when she sees me. “Ava?” she asks.

  I have no idea who she is or how she knows me. Still, I find myself nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She places her hand on her husband’s chest, moving him out of the way. “I’m sorry, I probably sound crazy right now, but I recognize you from when I went through the house with the realtor. You were here with your… brother?”

  I nod.

  She adds, “Yeah, you were packing up all your stuff.”

  Memories flood my mind, darkened moments of that time in my life when nothing made sense, and everything felt like it was crumbling around me. “I don’t remember you,” I murmur, unconsciously stepping toward Connor. I use his arm to shield me, because if she knows me, then she probably knows everything else about me.

  “Did you want to come in?”

  “No,” I rush out, tugging on Connor’s arm. My neck cranes when I look up at him, heat burning behind my eyes and nose. “Can we go?”

  “I’m sorry,” the woman says. “I didn’t mean to cause you any…” Pain? Discomfort? Heartache? She could use any of those words, and they’d all be correct because standing here, in front of a door I used to call mine, an entry to a place I used to call home, where music was loud and laughter was louder, until… until all the blood seeped into my hands…

  “I want to go,” I repeat, stepping back, trying to get Connor to do the same.

  Gaze laced with pity, he rushes out, “But the patio and the lake and the memories, Ava. The good ones, remember?”

  Tears well in my eyes again. “I don’t care,” I lie. I want to remember the good. I just don’t know if I can.

  “You want to go to the patio?” the woman asks, nodding. “You can do that.” She motions to the side of the house. “Come through the yard if you don’t want to come in.”

  Connor keeps his eyes on mine, eyebrows lifted in question. “It can’t hurt,” he pushes, and he looks so damn hopeful and eager.

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nod.

  “Give me five minutes,” the woman says. “Meet me at the side gate.”

  Connor keeps his arms wrapped around me while we wait, no words spoken between us. I don’t know how we got from him drowning his losses, to celebrating Duke, to this. Now. And I know I should be grateful, but the truth is, I’m scared.

  “We’ll go, you’ll see it, and you’ll know right away if you want to leave or stay, and I’ll do whatever you want,” he says as if reading my mind. “No pressure.”

  The side gate opens, and the woman smiles. I should really get her name, but I don’t think I could talk through the knot in my throat. “Please,” she says, waving us in, “take your time.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Connor says, all hints of alcohol in his tone gone. I lead him past the main house, the pool and pool house, and beyond the greenhouse to where the yard opens up. The lake is prettier than I remember, and I stand still, my eyes drifting shut as I inhale a breath, basking in the memories of that scent alone. When I open my eyes again, Connor’s watching me, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “You good?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, slowly, then look over around him to the patio. The chairs are different from the ones we had, but there are two there, a small table between them. Fairy lights hang from the pillars around the patio, lighting up the small space. We make our way over, noticing the jug of iced tea and slices of pie set out on two little plates. Connor laughs. “Y’all do things so different on this side of town.” He sits down on one of the deck chairs and tugs on my hand until I’m sitting on his lap, his hand on my stomach. “It’s nice out here,” he murmurs, his chin on my shoulder. “Tell me a memory.”

  I half turn to him. “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me something about your mom before. What did you talk about right here, in this very spot?”

  I try to go back to a different time, a different life. Clearing my throat, I adjust on his lap until I’m sideways so I can look at him when I speak. My arm around his neck, I say, “When she was home before her last deployment, we sat out here, and we talked about Karen being boy-crazy.”

  Connor nods, his smile widening when his eyes focus on my lips, at the way they turn up at the memory. It’s so pure—the way he looks at me—as if he’s happy just because I am. “What did she have to say about that?”

  “She said that we were too young for love,” I tell him. “And she said that the only fear she’s ever had is that she won’t be around to watch me grow, to watch me fall in love for the first time.” I choke on the memory and the recollection of what she said next. Because I feel it in my heart. I feel it in Connor’s. With my eyes on his, I don’t hide my tears when I say, “She said that her hope for me was that I’d find a boy who would hold me through my pain and lift me through my triumphs. Who would love unconditionally. And she hoped that I would understand what that meant—love—in every sense of the word. But I didn’t know, Connor…”

  “Know what?” he asks, his thumbs swiping at my cheeks.

  “I didn’t know it would feel like this. Like I didn’t have a choice.”

  “In love?”

  “I don’t think we can choose the direction in which our heart beats. Because I didn’t want to fall in love with you. I didn’t want to fall in love at all. But then you came along and… and I told you early on that I was falling for you, but I lied. I was already there. And now I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you. I can’t think or breathe or move or live a single second without you infiltrating my mind, and I know that that’s wrong, this… obsession I have with you… but there it is.” I swallow the outcome of my confessions, keep my eyes on his. “And here we are.”

  Chapter 24

  Connor

  We stay at the lake for hours while Ava tells me only the good memories she has of
her mom, and I listen intently, making sure to pay attention to every word, every syllable that falls from her lips. I watch her smile. I watch the tears fall. I listen to her laugh, and I listen to her cry. And I get lost in all the different sides of Ava; quirky and confident, and vulnerable and sad, and I fall deeper in love with all the different versions of her.

  We catch a cab home, both of us knowing what’s ahead, at least for tonight, and neither of us can keep our hands and mouths off each other.

  When we get there, I walk up my driveway with her on my back as she chuckles into my neck. I say, “My dad’s at work tonight, so…”

  She jumps down when we get to the door. “So… we can talk loudly.”

  “Yeah.” My grin is stupid. “Conversations are neat.”

  We head straight for my room, and I close and lock the door behind me. Ava says, “I thought you said your dad was working?”

  I shrug. “Habit.”

  Ava sits on the edge of my bed, starts removing her jacket, and a glass flask of whiskey falls to the floor. “I’d forgotten about this.”

  “Did you steal that from Rhys?”

  She shrugs. “I got it for Trevor.” She looks up at me. “But we could put it to use considering I technically don’t have to get home until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I’ll get the glasses.”

  When I return, two whiskey glasses in hand, Ava’s stripped out of most of her clothes. In only a tank top, bra, and underwear, she holds the lip of the flask to her lips, sipping gently.

  “You couldn’t even wait for me?”

  Another shrug and she offers me the flask. I leave the glasses on my desk and sit next to her. After a swig, I hand it back. Her head tilts back, the muscles in her throat contracting when she swallows. I can’t help it; I press my open mouth there, loving the way her back arches to give me better access. She moans, her hands going to my hair as I slide my hand up her top, cupping her bra-covered breast. “Connor?” she breathes out.

  I make my way up her neck until my mouth finds hers and I kiss her, my tongue roaming lazily because unlike every other time before, we have hours to explore, to tease.