Straight Up Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor #2)(67)

She kisses the top of my head in an uncharacteristically maternal gesture. “Okay, but next girls’ night, you’re coming whether you want to or not.”

“Understood.”

She squeezes my hand again. “Want me to swing by after? I could bring ice cream, and we could make a voodoo doll of Mr. Mooney.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll go to bed in a bit.”

“Okay. Love you, Avie.”

“Love you too, Ell.”

Shortly after she’s out the door, my phone buzzes. I half expect it to be a text from Ellie insisting I come to girls’ night. Instead, it’s Jake.



Jake: The girls are getting started without you. Everything okay?



Me: I decided to stay in.



Jake: That’s my loss. I was really looking forward to my fifteen minutes.



Me: Maybe another time?



My thumbs hover over the keyboard as I hesitate, considering whether to tell him about the layoff. Usually, Jake’s the first person I tell when something big happens in my life, but I don’t want to tell him this. He’ll swoop in to try and find a solution. He’ll pull strings to get me a job, pay my mortgage when I’m not looking, and then, months later, I’ll realize that the balance of our friendship has once again fallen to favor me and I’ll feel like shit about it.

I will tell him. I have to. But first I need to decide what’s next for me, and I have to make that decision alone. Jake won’t want me to leave Jackson Harbor.

I’m wondering if that’s part of the reason I should.





Jake


Me: Confession time? I’ve had all week to try and haven’t managed to make it more than five minutes without thinking about you naked and moaning under me. The only thing keeping me from showing up in your room in the middle of the night is the need to maintain the illusion that I’m not a creep.



Ava: I’ve thought about it a lot too. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things this week.



Blood rushes to my dick at those words, and I grimace as I scan the crowded bar. Ava’s been at auditions all day, so she probably isn’t up for company tonight, but fuck if I don’t want to show up at her doorstep right now and hear some very specific details about her thoughts.



Me: Up for a call? I can hide in my office for a few. Don’t mind texting but would rather hear your voice when I learn all about what’s been on your mind.



Ava: I can’t call. I’m meeting someone, but it’s my turn for a confession.



Me: Please, go on . . .



Ava: I’m putting the brakes on Operation Pregnancy.



I blink at my phone and reread her last text three times before the next one comes through.



Ava: We can talk more tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you.



I’m not sure if this should feel like a victory or a defeat. On the one hand, when I finally do sleep with Ava, I have no intention of being the stud called in to share his seed before being sent away. In that sense, I’m glad she’s putting her plans on hold after our night together.

On the other hand, I don’t know if the end of Operation Pregnancy means the end of my excuse to seduce her.

Maybe it’s an opportunity to confess it was never more than an excuse.

My fingers hover over the screen as I mentally compose and dismiss dozens of replies. I’m equal parts relieved and panicked. I have no doubt Ava still wants a child. She’s just decided it’s better not to try for one. Or has she decided it is better not to try for one with me?



Me: Swing by and have a beer with me.



I regret that reply the second I send it. Too damn casual. I don’t want her to think that this decision is nothing to me. So I send another.



Me: Or I can come by your place. Whatever sounds good to you. We should talk.



Ava: Maybe I’ll come by Jackson Brews after my date.



Me: Date????



I grimace at the four question marks looking back at me from my text. If I wanted to play it cool, I could have left off a few of those.



Ava: I forgot I scheduled two SUC dates at once. Just got the reminder about tonight and didn’t want to be the bitch who stood someone up.



I officially hate text conversations. Is it really that she doesn’t want to stand someone up, or does her decision to end Operation Pregnancy mean she’s back on the market?

I tried to give her space this week. Last Saturday night was intense for her. It was for me, too—intense and fucking amazing. We both put ourselves out there. Admitted this attraction isn’t new on either side. It was everything.



Me: Enjoy your date. Be safe. Call if you need me.



I have to believe her plans to take the focus off pregnancy might mean something good for us, but until we get to talk in person, I can’t assume anything.





Ava


If I hadn’t scheduled my first two Straight Up Casual dates at the same time, and if I didn’t have a serious guilt complex at the prospect of standing someone up, I’d be spending my Saturday night at home, not at Howell’s downing another shot of tequila and praying to every deity I’ve ever heard of that this experience is better than my last.