Twisted Love (Twisted, #1)(63)

“Yes, he can be an asshole sometimes, but he’s still human. He needs love and care like anyone else,” I said, feeling protective of Alex even though he was the last person on earth who needed protection. “As for the relationship part, there’s a first time for everything. He’s been…” I swallowed hard. “You have no idea how much he’s helped me these past few months. He was there for everything. The nightmares, the panic attacks…he taught me how to swim. Swim, Josh. He helped me get over my fear of water, at least a little bit, and he was so patient the entire time. But beyond how much he’s helped me, he’s smart and funny and wonderful. He makes me laugh and believe in myself, more than anyone else ever has. And he may not show it to the world, but he does have a heart. A beautiful one.”

I cut myself off before I rambled further, my cheeks a deep, bright red.

Josh stared at me, shock stamped on every inch of his face. “Ava,” he said. “Do you...love him?”

A lot of things in my life had been hazy up to this point, but my feelings about this were clear. I didn’t hesitate before answering.

“Yes.” I may not know what was in my mind, but I knew what was in my heart. “I do.”





Josh left the next morning after threatening to kill Alex if he ever broke my heart. He was still uncomfortable with our relationship, but he’d grudgingly accepted it after he saw how much I cared about Alex.

Alex had urgent business to take care of after he dropped Josh off at the airport, so I spent the rest of the day with my girls. Since it was drizzling and I wasn’t up for going out, we had an at-home spa day, complete with DIY facials, mani-pedis, and a marathon of feel-good movies.

I’d told them what had happened with Michael. They’d been stunned, but none of them pressed me on it, for which I was grateful. It had been a heavy twenty-four hours, and I needed lighthearted downtime.

Stella checked her phone before pushing it away with an uncharacteristic frown.

“Is it that creep again?” Jules asked, blowing on her freshly polished gold nails.

Some random guy had been messaging Stella nonstop for the past two weeks, and it was making her nervous. As an influencer, she received her fair share of unsolicited DMs from creepy guys, but this one put her on edge more than normal.

“Yeah. I blocked him, but he keeps making new accounts.” Stella sighed. “That’s the sucky part about being a semi-public figure.”

“Be careful.” A shadow of worry crossed Bridget’s face. “There are crazy people out there.”

Rhys, who kept watch from the armchair, snorted, no doubt because that was what he always told her—and she always ignored him, like she did now.

Bridget refused to look at him as she lowered the volume on Mean Girls. That must’ve been the thousandth time we’d watched it, but it never got old. Regina George was iconic.

“I will. He’s likely another Internet weirdo.” Stella made a face. “That’s why I never post my Stories until after I’ve left a place.”

I couldn’t imagine documenting my life online the way Stella did. I worried for both her physical safety and mental health sometimes, but she’d handled it well so far. Maybe I was just being a worrywart.

Someone knocked on the door.

“I’ll get it.” Rhys unfolded himself to his full six feet, five inches. Seriously, the man was enormous. He probably wore custom-made clothes because no way would an off-the-rack shirt fit those big shoulders and broad chest.

“Look at that ass.” Jules sighed. “Talk about a tight end.”

“Stop objectifying him. That’s Bridget’s bodyguard,” I said, nudging her in the ribs.

“Exactly. Bodyguards are hot. Don’t you think so, Bridge?”

“No,” Bridget said flatly.

“You guys are no fun.” Jules twisted her red hair into a messy topknot. “Ooh, look who comes bearing gifts.”

My stomach fluttered when Alex walked in with Rhys on his heels. He carried a distinctive black-and-white striped box.

“Cake?” Stella perked up. She’d warmed up to Alex over the past month after seeing he was “capable of human emotion after all.”

“Cupcakes,” Alex confirmed, setting the goodies on the table.

My friends dove for the box like treasure hunters diving for gold.

I smiled and tilted my head up so I could kiss him. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s just cupcakes.” He returned my kiss before sitting next to me and curling a protective arm around my waist. “Figured you could use the sugar rush.”

I peeled the wrapper away from my red velvet cupcake with a small frown. It would take a long time to get over what Michael did. I wasn’t sure I would ever get over what Michael did. My entire life was a lie. Sometimes, I’d lie awake at night, so anxious I couldn’t sleep or think straight. Other times, like now, I’d look around me and comfort myself with the knowledge that I would be all right. That old saying was true: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I’d almost died twice in my life—that I knew of—and I was still standing. I’d continue to stand tall, long after Michael rotted in jail.

Thanks to a nudge from Alex, who knew half the judges in this town, Michael was locked up with no bail until his court date. He’d sent a message asking me to see him, but I refused. I had nothing left to say to him. He’d shown me his real face, and I would be happy if I never saw it again for the rest of my life.