Dear Ava: Enemies-to-lovers Standalone Romance Page 13

  She shrugs, and I follow her up three flights of stairs until we get to a quiet area—though aren’t they all? This one has cubby areas and small rooms lining the walls. In the middle are tables with students reading or working on their laptops.

  She takes the lead and we circle the area while she peers into various rooms.

  “All the bigger rooms are taken, so we’ll have to take one of the smaller ones.”

  “It’s just the two of us. It will be like we’re in class,” I say.

  Only we’ll be alone.

  She clears her throat. “Right. This one, then.” She nods at a small space to the right with just enough room for a desk and—

  “Dang it. There’s only one chair.” Her arms cross.

  “Wanna sit in my lap?” I say the words, but I don’t mean them. It’s a joke. Right?

  She flushes. “No. You wanna sit on the floor?”

  “I don’t mind. I can drag a chair in here from somewhere,” I offer.

  She mulls that over and looks around. Most of the chairs at the tables are taken, and the ones that aren’t have books sitting where a person isn’t.

  “We came all this way, and we aren’t just going to give up because we don’t have a chair. The small room is fine. I promise to not touch you.”

  “I know. You never touch me,” she murmurs.

  A whoosh of air comes out of me, but she isn’t paying attention as she walks inside ahead of me.

  “It’s perfect.” I set my laptop on the desk then plop down on the carpeted floor with my back to the wall. “You take the chair. I’ll sit behind you.”

  She bites her lips, her hair dipping down. Her eyes glow when she looks up. “You’re so mean.”

  “Moi? Why?” I ask dryly.

  “Because you brought Snickers and what you really want is for me to sit far, far away so you can eat them all.”

  I pull one out and wave it at her.

  She snatches the laptop and places it on my legs as she sits next to me on the floor. “Now bring up the movie.” She pauses. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid of being close to me?”

  My gaze slides over her carefully, trying not to linger on her bare, long legs, the pink color on her toes. “Fort Knox is afraid of nothing.”

  She snorts. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you didn’t answer my question.” Her legs brush against mine briefly before she scoots over and puts space between us.

  “Mmmm.” I click play on Dirty Dancing. Anything to keep her out of my head.

  This watching it together thing was your idea, I remind myself.

  Several minutes later, I give her a candy bar and take one for myself.

  “Yum, dessert. Thanks.” She takes a big bite of hers and smiles.

  Shit. Just…shit. Have I ever seen her this close to me, relaxed and smiling?

  “No problem.” I look away from her mouth and focus on the movie as Baby tries to dance with Johnny, failing miserably.

  Several minutes pass and I pretend to watch, hyperaware of every twitch she makes. Every now and then, her lids lower then pop back open.

  “You tired?”

  “No.”

  I smile at her lie.

  “Did you know Kellerman’s is a real place, but it isn’t in the Catskills?” she says quietly as her head leans a little, inches from my shoulder. “I looked it up after you mentioned it in class.”

  “Where is it?”

  Her gaze refocuses as she blinks. “Virginia, and it’s called something else—Mountain Lake Resort. It looks like a magical place to spend a summer.”

  “Where’s your favorite place to vacation?”

  She smirks. “Never been out of Nashville, but I’d love to see the ocean some day. Sand between my toes kind of thing. I’ll go when I’m done with college, take Tyler with me. He would flip. Someday.”

  I have to look away from her face.

  She’s too…sweet.

  Vulnerable.

  I ease my body away from her, just a few inches. I have no right to be this close to her, not after what I did—

  “What was your favorite vacation ever?” she murmurs, interrupting my thoughts.

  I don’t even have to think about it. “When I was little, maybe seven, my parents took us skiing in Colorado. They were getting along then, or at least they still seemed like they cared about each other. Dane and I tore up the bunny slopes. Dad loved it too. Mom liked to stay in the cabin and make us hot chocolates when we got back. The snow was beautiful and white and clean. It felt like only good things could happen in a place like that.” I clear my throat. “Honestly, I can’t remember a good vacation since then. My dad started working all the time, my mom was diagnosed with bipolar depression, and then everything else happened.”

  There’s a long silence. Johnny and Baby are on the screen, but Ava and I stare at each other.

  “Everything else just covered a whole lot of stuff you aren’t saying,” she says softly.

  My heart dips. I really don’t want to talk about Mom and the final straw that tore her down. It’s too close to what happened to Ava. “Tulip, don’t… Let’s just watch the movie.”

  At first, I think she’s going to press me, but something she sees on my face changes her mind.

  “Of course.” She turns back to the screen and the moment is gone.

  Time passes, and I watch the movie, or do I? The images are there, but she’s here, and my muscles are wired, and why did I want to do this and why am I torturing myself with someone I can never have?

  I don’t want to even be her friend.

  So why do I want to know her favorite color?

  What’s in that locket she clutches?

  What makes her happy?

  Why does she love tomatoes?

  I glance down at the notebook she’s been half-heartedly writing in, reading her notes.

  Who calls a grown woman Baby?

  Awkward, but opinionated. She’s the real hero. Courageous. Forces her family to see what she sees.

  Johnny is hot. Dude can dance. He’s kind. Cares for his friends. Men should be kind. Kisses AMAZING. Dang. He knows how to look at a woman. And dance. Heard he was a ballet dancer in real life.

  Romantic aspect: First love. Love in adversity. Love between opposites. Palpable chemistry, that’s for damn sure…

  And then the pen falls out of her hand, her body sways, just a little, coming closer, and her head bobs forward, then back to the wall, then she’s lying on my shoulder. Out cold.

  The room is hot. Fucking stifling.

  My hands clench.

  So close.

  So damn close to me.

  A broken girl.

  A fierce girl.

  Just for me.

  God, how I want that.

  Her body shifts imperceptibly closer to mine until the side of her face presses against my chest. The final scene plays as the staff dance and Johnny catches Baby when she does that fancy jump thing. I barely notice—hell, I’m barely breathing when the credits roll, and I still haven’t moved five minutes later, afraid to jostle her, to lose how good she feels, the warmth of her arm against mine, the scent of her hair in my face.

  Moving slowly, my hand touches her hair, my finger drifting over the edge of her jaw. So delicate. So soft. Sliding a strand of hair behind her ear, my head goes back to last year when she was in that tub at Chance’s and I was…well, doing what I was doing. I was so pissed and angry at myself, at her, watching her dance, with him, driving myself nuts imagining them doing more. She was his, and I’m an asshole, but I’d never hurt my best friend.

  My hand caresses her nape, that delicate skin under her hair—

  “What! What did I miss?!” She jerks back, wiping at her face, shuffling away from me.

  And she’s gone.

  My hand falls. I can’t look at her, so I stare at the laptop.

  “Crap! Did I miss the ending?” She blows out a breath.

  Inhaling, I say, “It’s over, Tulip.”


  And I don’t mean just the movie. I have to shut down this rollercoaster she’s put me on.

  A sound of frustration comes from her lips. “Ugh! I was wiped out! First week of school and work and Tyler and school…” She pauses as a small bell dings in the room. “And they’re closing in fifteen minutes! We didn’t even talk about the movie!” She stands up, hands on her hips as she paces as much as she can in the room. “What now?” She checks her phone. “It’s almost ten and the entrance at the dorms will be locked—”

  I finally move when my legs feel steady, standing up next to her. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car. Don’t worry about the notes. We’ll figure it out in class.”

  She frowns, gathering her backpack. “We can sit on the steps outside the library, on the fountain where there’s plenty of light, and go over—”

  “No.”

  “Why not? I’m not sleepy anymore. I can call Wyatt, and he’ll open a side door for me—”

  “No.”

  She pauses, tilting her face up, looking at mine. Granite. I’m stone. Have to be.

  Her shoulders rise. “I see.”

  I stuff my laptop in my backpack and gather up our trash from the snacks.

  She watches me. “Are you pissed because I fell asleep?”

  “I just need to go, charity case.”

  Her lips thin. “We could have done this over the freaking phone.”

  But she’s talking to my back because I’m already walking out the door and holding it open for her.

  Our eyes meet. Hers are a stormy sea. Mine are…shit, they’re cold, I hope.

  She takes a little breath, straightens her shoulders, and slides past me. I inhale, just one more time, just a hint of vanilla.

  “I have to go…check on Dane.” Which is true. He sent me several texts already, asking where I am. He’s home alone, and I haven’t responded, and that isn’t like me.

  She doesn’t reply and I follow her, keeping a step between us as we go down the three flights of stairs, moving past other students on their way out. She walks with her shoulders rolled back, confident, like she belongs here—nothing like Camden where she alternates between forced viciousness and that vulnerable bend in her frame.

  She smiles at someone who catches her eye, a guy, and he turns around backward to watch her ass. Giving him a withering glance, I continue on, catching up to her until we’re side by side.

  We exit, past the steps, past the trickling fountain, all the way out to the parking lot, to her car. Neither of us speak.

  She opens her door, throws her backpack in the passenger side, and starts to get in then stops and pivots to face me.

  Her chest rises. “What is wrong with you? You wanted to do this. You wanted us to watch it together. Why are you such a dick—” Her eyes widen and she reaches out a hand and touches my chest. Confusion clouds her face. “Knox, why…why are you shaking?”

  Her palm flattens to my heart, and I wonder if she can feel how fast it’s beating.

  My mouth dries. I blink. I might pass out.

  We just stare at each other, and the night is warm, and her hand is hot, electric sparks firing from her to me. I think if you tell yourself something enough, over and over again, just maybe you can make it come true. I can’t have her. I can’t have this. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

  I’ll settle for me. For Dane. For football.

  Your life is so fucked up, a dark voice insists, laughing mirthlessly.

  If only you’d staked a claim before Chance.

  If only…

  I jerk away from her and she gapes at me, shaking her head in confusion.

  “Knox?”

  I look away from her and stare at my feet. Familiar shame and guilt ride me hard, slugging at my heart, ripping it apart.

  I left her.

  I fucking left her because I was upset because she kissed her boyfriend.

  How messed up is that?

  I want her.

  I fucking do.

  But you can’t take a beautiful, soft flower and crush it under your cleats, not when she’s halfway to broken already.

  “Tulip…” I push out, and I don’t even know what I’m going to say, but she ignores me, because I’ve stood here like an idiot for too long.

  She’s in her car and “You Need to Calm Down” blares from her speakers. Wearing a frown, she pulls out, and me…I’m just standing there, watching her taillights.

  13

  “…And then Dane said, ‘But why does Charlotte have to die!’ I can’t believe we got through the movie at my house. He sniffled at the end even after I said at least Wilbur got her eggs and that means there’ll be little baby spiders for him to take care of, and he just glared at me. I swear, I think those drugs have addled his brain.” She stuffs a burrito in her mouth as we eat lunch on Friday then wipes her lips and lets out a groan. “Okay, okay, I wore my Bambi shirt when I knew he was coming over, you know, just to make him uncomfortable. Was that mean? He never said anything, so I guess it was okay.” Another groan. “I mean, come on, what guy is so ridiculously soft about animals?”

  “I don’t care how he feels. Asshole Shark,” I mutter.

  “I saw Knox turned your paper in early today. How was it?” She gives me a careful look, and I’m sure it was apparent in class that Knox and I were barely speaking. Gone are the snide comments. Gone are the tentative glances. Since the movie night, he’s a different person. We had this fun camaraderie at Lou’s, and then it all went wrong when I fell asleep. Did I say something in my sleep? Nah. He’s just…

  Out of your depth.

  Playing games.

  I glare at my Diet Coke. “He didn’t even ask me to help write it, just wrote it himself, and on top of that, he switched our romance theme for feminism without asking when he was the one who liked the romantic aspect. Jerk. Big stupid jerk. Should have been Star Wars from the get-go.”

  “At least you didn’t have to do it,” Wyatt says with a grin.

  The thing is, part of me was looking forward to hashing out our ideas and working together. He gave me a copy of it today when I walked into History of Film, and when I said, “Dude, what the hell?” he only gave me grunts and nods. Caveman!

  I read his essay, huffing, while he sat next to me, tense and wired.

  “Maybe he really is pissed I wrote his cell number on the stall in the bathroom. Dammit, I should have written it at Lou’s. Missed opportunity.”

  Wyatt’s eyes flare. “You’re the one who blabbed his super-secret phone number?”

  “Weak moment.” I grin.

  He puts his fist up and we bump. “Sneaky. Remind me to never tell you my secrets.”

  “Meh, he really didn’t care that much,” I say. I haven’t told them about us at Lou’s or Vandy. Part of me wants to just pretend it never happened, because hello, he has.

  Inevitably, my eyes scan over to the Shark table. He’s there, sitting next to Tawny. She keeps chatting up at him, batting those lashes. He barely notices her, typical, and focuses on his phone. Dane sits on the other side of him, pushing food around on his plate, his eyes at half-mast. In class, he was the same, sluggish and off. Chance sits across from them, Brooklyn plastered to his side. I don’t see Liam and Jolena. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen them at the Shark table since the fight earlier this week.

  I glance back to Wyatt and Piper. “So, Knox has a black eye and Liam does too. I’m assuming the fight was at practice, but what’s the word on the street? Anyone know what it was about?”

  “No clue. I’ve been buried in homework and trying to keep my grades up there with a certain someone,” Piper says.

  “Me.” I laugh.

  She giggles.

  Wyatt cocks his head. “I may have heard it was over you.”

  I drop my burrito. “What?”

  “Seems like Liam was badmouthing you and Knox shut him up.”

  My mouth drops. “Me?”

  “You,” he repeats.
>
  “But why?”

  He shrugs. “I can’t even begin to understand how he thinks. He keeps shit close.”

  No joke.

  Wyatt dips his fry in ketchup and tosses it in his mouth. “Why are you staring at him?”

  “I’m not!”

  He laughs, glancing down at one of the hummingbird tattoos on his forearms. He gives it a little brush, his face thoughtful. “I saw that your locker was scrubbed pretty good. Heard it was done after practice by a couple of football players.”

  “Chance and Knox,” I mutter as I push my burger away from me. The words were mostly gone by the end of the day it happened, but I was able to see a few faint outlines, the E in leave, the L in slut.

  It was Chance’s idea, Knox said.

  My eyes linger on Chance, and he glances up and stares right back. Brooklyn tugs on his arm and he finally drops his gaze.

  Piper follows my gaze. “Jockass! I hope he rots! Saying that you hurt him. What a dick.” She shakes her head. “Geeze, he was all over you last year—”

  “Let it go,” I grumble. We’ve hashed this out in my dorm room, and I’m sick of thinking about it. I blow out a breath. The truth is, I’m exhausted. Last night, I had dinner with Tyler at the group home, worked a shift at the diner, then came home and tried to do homework. Between Knox and this hellhole, my nerves are stretched thin, and there’s dread and unease nipping at my heels. The flat tire and locker incident won’t be the end of it. Something else will happen.

  The bell rings and we gather up our trash. Piper and Wyatt head off, and I dash to the restroom. I’m walking down the hall when my phone vibrates with a text, and I pull it out of my blazer pocket.

  Hey. I’ve been thinking about you. How’s your day?

  Well, well, I’d almost forgotten about my admirer. A small part of me—a silly part—briefly entertained the idea that it was Knox. He did come to change my tire from out of the blue.

  But I asked him at Lou’s in a roundabout way if it was him, and while he didn’t say no, he seemed cool about it. So, not him.

  I stop in the hall and lean against the wall.

  What do you want? I type.

  Students rush past me, but I’m oblivious as I wait for his response.