Straight Up Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor #2)(88)

“I can’t . . . I’m not ready.”

“When will you be ready?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know if I ever will, but I need you to give me space while I figure out my life.”

“Your life in Florida? I’m supposed to sit back and watch you put together a life for yourself a thousand miles away?” I shake my head. “No. I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I’ve slept without you in my arms for three nights. That’s three nights more than I needed to know you belong there. I love you.” I put my hands on her knees and squeeze. “Look at me. Tell me what it’s going to take to make this right.”

“I love you too.” The words should feel so good to hear, but they don’t. Not in this context when they’re more like a reluctant admission than a gift. As if her love is a difficult fact she has to deal with instead of something that’s lifting her up. “And I loved Harrison.”

I grimace at the mention of his name. It kills me that I’ve done anything that makes Ava put me in the same category as him. “I’m not Harrison.”

“You’re not. He found someone prettier and younger, a woman who could give him children. I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t leave me like he did. You wouldn’t push me aside for someone else.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.”

She closes her eyes. “But maybe that’s exactly why I should move, Jake. What’s here for me? All I have in Jackson Harbor is a father who disapproves of most of my life choices, and an ex-husband whose new wife is having the baby I wanted to have so badly.”

“The Jacksons are here.” I stand. I’m too frustrated to be still while she feeds me this bullshit. “Don’t you dare act like you don’t have a real family. We’ve been your family your whole life. My mom loves you like her own, and my brothers and Shay love you like you’re their sister.” I thump my chest with my fist. “And I can’t let you go.”

“I need you to,” she whispers. She pushes off the couch, and for the first time since I walked in the door, she touches me. It’s brief, her fingertips across the stubble of my week-old beard, but I feel it with every cell in my body. “I believe you when you say you’ll do anything for me. You’ve proven that over and over again. That’s why I think me leaving might be for the best.”

“Leave if you need to. Leave if that is what will make you happy. But don’t you dare tell yourself it’s what’s best for me.”

“Even if it’s true?” she whispers. She slowly turns and walks to the front door, opening it before turning back to me. “I can’t be with you right now.”





Ava


“Do you want me to go up with you?” Ellie asks as I look up at Molly’s apartment building in Brooklyn.

“No. I need to do this by myself.”

Two weeks ago, I was in Florida interviewing for what is, on the surface, my dream job. I hadn’t been down there for twelve hours before I knew I couldn’t take the position. Seaside is lovely, but it’s not home. I don’t want to leave Jackson Harbor for the position, because no job is perfect if it takes me from the town I love. I did the interview and spent time with Mom, and when I left, it was knowing I’d truly considered it but that the move wasn’t right for me.

Today, I’m in New York because Jake insisted I still take the trip to see Hamilton. Even if I did it without him. When I found the plane tickets and hotel reservations in my mailbox, I missed him so acutely that I could hardly breathe. When I sat through the production last night, I could hardly see through my tears. We were supposed to take this trip together. He was supposed to be by my side as I checked off the incredible bucket-list item of seeing Hamilton on Broadway.

He’s been giving me space, just like I asked, and I’ve hated it. I miss my nights at Jackson Brews and surprise visits from Jake during theater rehearsals. I miss our shared laughter and the heat of his eyes on me. If I could rewind to before I knew about Noah and Molly, I’d relive the weekend at the cabin on repeat.

My hand goes to my stomach and I swallow hard, wondering for the hundredth time today if there’s a chance I might be pregnant.

Ellie squeezes my hand. “I saw a coffee shop around the corner. Come find me when you’re ready.”

I nod and let her go, taking a deep breath before going into the building and climbing the stairs. I hesitate at her door, mustering all my courage to knock.

The little boy who opens the door steals my breath. “Hello?”

“Noah!” Molly races up behind him. “Baby, you know you’re not supposed to answer the door without me.”

She doesn’t register it’s me for a few moments, and the seconds stretch between us, full of silence because I’m still staring at Noah. My nephew. He’s beautiful, and my heart feels too big for my chest as I try to take him in, to memorize his perfect face.

He’s not a Jackson. I didn’t realize I still doubted it.

I sink down to my haunches and offer him my hand. “Hey there. I’m Ava.”

“I Noah,” he says with a toothy grin.

“I’m Noah,” Molly corrects him.

Noah giggles. “No, you Mommy.”

Shaking her head, Molly sighs and holds the door open wide. “You might as well come on in, Ava.”