Sweet Nothing(51)

“Yeah,” I said without hesitation.

“Maybe we should think about this for a week or so. We shouldn’t make a decision like this without really thinking it over.”

“Avery, I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

“You have?”

“You haven’t?” I asked, feeling nervous all over again.

“It’s a big step.”

“I know this is what I want. I don’t wanna waste any more time.”

“Living together can really be hard on a relationship.”

“I’m starting to wonder if it’s you who isn’t sure about us.”

“It’s not us I’m unsure of. It’s the living together, family … the entire idea just makes me nervous. I don’t have a lot of good experience with family.”

“You have me,” I said, feeling hurt. Avery was all the family I’d ever needed, and as far as I was concerned, we already were. “We can make family a good memory for us, Avery. I thought that’s what we’ve been doing.”

Her shoulders sank. This was so unlike Avery that I wasn’t sure what to do. I had known from the beginning a relationship with me scared her, but after everything, I’d thought we were past that.

I lifted her chin with my finger, forcing her to look me in the eye. “What can I do?

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not giving up, so tell me what I need to do to make you okay with this.”

“There’s so much we don’t know about each other. I haven’t even met your parents.”

I visibly cringed. I wasn’t expecting that at all. “Avery, that’s not a good idea.”

“Are you ashamed of me?” she asked.

“What? No, hell no,” I said.

“Then why?”

“It’s hard to explain,” I said.

“Something I’d have to see for myself?” she asked.

I closed my eyes. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“How are we supposed to live together if you don’t trust me to love you? I’m not going to judge you because of your parents, Josh. I know you don’t judge me because of mine.”

My eyebrows pulled in. “Your parents died, Avery. How could I judge you for that?”

“Because I lived, and they didn’t.”

I blinked then shook my head. “Don’t say that. It was an accident.”

“So was ours, but it’s still my fault. Don’t think I don’t remember pulling out on a red light.”

“Stop,” I said, watching her eyes gloss over. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for either. What good would it have done if you’d died with your parents? They wouldn’t have wanted that, Avery.”

“I know,” she said, picking at her nails. “But I thought you’d understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Feeling guilty. We were both kids.”

I stood. “Oh, no. You can’t compare the two. And this isn’t about me.”

She reached for me, but missed.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Bring up my sister to avoid talking about your parents.” I felt my cheeks warm, and I began to pace. It was a strange feeling, wanting to hold her and walk out at the same time.

She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“You sure?”

She blinked, looking around the room, as if the answer were in the corners. “I would be a horrible person if I were.”

“You’ve been doing it your whole life, Avery. I know exactly how it is. I don’t blame you, but you have to stop.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking.

“You don’t like talking about them. You’ve barely said a word about them, but you can talk to me.”

“What else should I say?”

“That you miss them. How it affects your life now. How it affects us.”

She lifted her hands and let them slap against her thighs. “I miss them. Being forced to let them go made it impossible to hold on to anything. I could let go of Deb, my job. I could let go of you—right now, if I wanted—and not bat an eye.” She covered her mouth, shocked at her own admission.

A shot of adrenaline rushed through me. “Avery …” My teeth clenched. “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

Every one of my muscles relaxed, and then I pointed at her phone. “Call work. You’ll need a four-day weekend.”

Her hands slowly lowered from her face. “Why?”

“I’m taking you to Savannah to meet my parents.”





Avery was fidgeting with her yellow skirt that hung just below her knees. She was nervous about meeting my mother, and the icy road conditions did little to calm her fears.

Thankfully, we were heading south, where ice and snow wouldn’t be an issue.

“Are you sure this is okay?” she asked for the tenth time as I pulled off the highway, into a gas station.

“Yes.”

I could feel her watching me as I put the car into park next to a pump.