Dinner at Eight-epub (17 page)

“They taught me to fight dirty.”

“Does it help?”

She wouldn’t sleep at night without it. “I’m confident in my ability to take a man down—and keep him down.”

“You almost took me down a couple of times.”

Ava frowned. “I’m sorry about that. It’s like I said, you confused me. That first kiss… The irrational side of my mind took over, and I reacted on instinct. The same thing happened last night.”

“You were magnificent,” he whispered. “Both times.”

“I was out of control.”

“You were in absolute control. You knew what you had to do to protect yourself, and you did it.”

“At your expense.”

“Would it ease your conscience if I told you I was relieved you do MMA? At least this way I know you’re safe, no matter what happens.”

It was why she did the classes.

“Don’t give them up. Ever. And don’t miss one for me. Or anyone else for that matter. Go. Get ready.”

Ava nodded, but made no move to dress. “When will I see you again?”

She held her breath, waiting for his answer. As desperately as she’d missed him while he’d been away, she needed time out now. Time to catch her breath and to consider what she’d done.

She’d just made love with her best friend.

Made.
Love.

With the same man she’d warned not to fall in love with her, because she was incapable of loving him back—or loving anyone, for that matter.

Perspiration slid down her spine. Her chest burned.

“After your cla…” Jared frowned and must have reconsidered his answer. “That’s up to you.”

“Can I call you?”

He hesitated before flashing her a smile she couldn’t read. “Any time.”

Ava floundered. One thing she’d always been able to do was read Jared’s expressions. As far as she was concerned, his face was an open book.

Unease slithered through her belly and a part of her ached to grab hold of his hand, tug him down on the bed beside her and kiss him. Again and again and again, until the worry and regret and fear vanished beneath his exquisite touch.

The other part prayed he’d leave soon. Walk out of the flat and give her time to gather her wits about her.

Ava twisted her fingers together to stop herself from reaching for him. “Would it be okay if I didn’t call right away? If I took some time and space, to, you know, process everything that’s happened between us.”

The unreadable smile remained. “Take as much time as you need.”

Ava studied him for a long moment. “You scare me, Jar.” Oxygen jammed in her lungs again. “This, us.” She gestured with her hands, waving between them. “Scares me.”

Jared closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his head. “The last thing I ever want to do is scare you.”

“I know.” Her voice was meek.

He found his pants and pulled them on. “You’ll phone when you’re ready to see me?”

Ava nodded. 

He tugged his shirt on next, watching her as he did up the buttons. “I want you to know something.”

“Yeah?”

He closed the distance between them and took her hand in his. “You may have stopped believing in happy ever afters. But I haven’t.” He pressed a kiss to her palm. “You can fight me on this as much as you want. You can pull away and take time out when you need it. But I’m going to keep coming back until you realize you love me too. I promise you, baby, we’ll get our happy ending. You and I. Together.”

And as sweat beaded on Ava’s upper lip, Jared squeezed her hand and left, giving her time and space—just like she’d requested.

“You look like shit.”

Greg tossed the comment Jared’s way as he walked into the lounge room and set a cup under the coffee machine.

Jared, stretched out on the couch, eyed his brother without comment. It was mid-Saturday morning and Greg was only just arriving home. He hadn’t been at work.

It was seriously time for Jared to get his own place. Greg needed his flat back. Jared had gone to see a couple of rentals during the week and hated them both.

“You also look like you just got laid. Which is a bit of a mind fuck, considering the looking-like-shit part of it.” Greg pushed a button, and the familiar grind and churn of the machine filled the room. “You okay?”

Jared rubbed a tired hand over his face. “Long night.” Long morning too.

Greg’s eyes narrowed. “How’s Ava?”

Jared stared at the ceiling.

The scent of fresh-brewed coffee filled the air.

“Tea?” Greg offered.

“Nah, thanks.” He must really look bad if his twin was offering.

“Want to talk about it?”

Did he? The thoughts that troubled him weren’t his worries to share. Not all of them, anyway.

“Might as well get it off your chest, bro.”

A small smile tugged at Jared’s lips. He would discuss this with his brother at some point, and they both knew it. If something happened in their lives, they spoke about it. Always had, always would. The question was, was he up to talking now?

His gut twisted as the now familiar sense of helplessness wound its way through his chest. “You ever been impotent?” he asked.

“Jesus, no.” Greg blanched, then threw his brother a sympathetic look. “That’d explain the looking-like-shit-when-you-just-got-laid thing.”

“Let me reword that. You ever
felt
impotent? Powerless in a situation you wish you could control but can’t?”

“Ah,
that
kind of impotence.” Greg screwed up his face in concentration and plopped down on the opposite couch. “Yeah. A couple of times. Diagnosing Mum’s tumor, for one.” 

Jared’s stomach cramped at the memory. “But…” he held up a finger, “…you found it. You diagnosed her and referred her on, and they got it all. You saved her.”

“Still felt pretty damn impotent at the time.”

“Okay, so that sense of powerlessness? That’s where I’m at now. Incapable of helping and too damn late to make a difference.” The knowledge ate him alive.

Greg stared at him for a very long time, his gaze somber. “Is Ava sick?”

“No. It’s not like that.”

Greg kept his intense gaze pinned on his brother. “Then what is it like?”

“I was right,” Jared said.

Greg grinned at his twin. “Now there’s something I don’t hear very often.”

“This is one time I wish I didn’t deserve the credit.”

Greg frowned. “Right about what?”

Christ, this was hard. It must have killed Ava to spill her heart. He stared back at his brother, knowing his pain and helplessness were reflected on his face.

“
Fuck
.” Greg’s cup hit the coffee table with a thud. Black liquid spilled over the edge. “He hurt her?”

Jared’s jaw clenched.

“Son of a bitch.”

“We suspected.” Jared wiped a tired hand over his eyes. “But hearing it from her mouth…”

“It’s always easier to speculate than to know for sure.” Greg leaned forward, his jaw set in a hard line. “Did he do it more than once?”

Again Jared gave his brother a bleak look.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“He broke her rib, just before one of the Dinner Clubs.”

Greg’s face turned white. “No wonder she almost never joined us.”

“That night she did.”

Greg gaped at him. “She came out with a broken rib? After he beat her?”

Jared nodded.

“Jesus.” If possible his face turned even paler. “Fuck.” Greg jumped up and stalked across the room. When he reached the wall, he froze, staring straight ahead. Then he slapped his hand across his mouth and dry heaved.

Jared lay where he was, knowing Greg needed time to digest the truth. Fuck knew, he’d needed time too. Still needed time. He hated believing anything so fucked-up could have happened. But as Ava had pointed out, it was her inability to believe the truth that had led her to stay with the psychopathic motherfucker for four months. Better to believe than to let your ideals tint your world a rosy red.

“She never said a word,” Greg told the wall, his voice hoarse, his shoulders rigid. “How could we help her if she never told us?”

Jared knew exactly why Greg asked. He was struggling with his guilt. He’d sat beside an abused woman and not known. And because he hadn’t known, he hadn’t protected her. Jared grappled with the same guilt, and it left him crazed.

He’d been a million miles away and let Ava down when she’d needed him the most.

Greg stared at his hands. “I’m a doctor, Jazza. A fucking radiologist. I look at broken bones every day, and I couldn’t tell she was injured.”

“She hid it.”

“Intentionally?”

Jared nodded. “Never wanted anyone to know the truth.”

“Jesus. No wonder you look like shit.”

“You’re not looking so hot yourself, bro.”

Greg pinned his gaze on Jared. “Fix her.”

“Huh?”

“Fix her, Jazz. You’re the only one who can.”

The sense of impotence struck again, a relentless pounding at his temples. “How?”

“How what?”

“How do I fix her?”

“Fucked if I know.”

Jared surged to his feet. “Jesus, Greg, you can’t just go issuing orders. Give me something solid to work with.”

“Talk to her,” Greg snapped. “Christ knows, you’re the only one she ever listened to.”

“And say what?”

Greg’s face hardened with determination. “That we’ll protect her. If that fuck comes anywhere near her, we’ll take him out. You tell her she’s safe.”

“I can’t.” Jared struck his forehead with the heel of his palm. “She doesn’t want to see me.”

Greg scrunched up his nose in disbelief. “Pardon?”

Despair crashed over him. “She wants time. Space. Away from me.”

“Bullshit.”

He gave a tired nod. “Truth.”

“Ava never wants time away from you. She said it herself. She wanted to be with you forever.”

Jared stilled. “When did she say that?”

“In school. You asked the other night, remember?”

Disappointment settled on his shoulders. “That was twelve years ago.” Real life had interfered since then. Real life, marriage and wife battery.

“You’re her best friend.”

“And I let her down when she needed me the most.”

Greg held his palm up, stopping Jared. “You weren’t here, bro. You didn’t know.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. I wasn’t here. She needed me, and I wasn’t here for her.” No wonder Ava wanted space. The one time she’d needed his protection and his help, he’d failed her.

How could she ever rely on him again?

Something wedged in his chest. A solid lump that made breathing a challenge. Even swallowing hurt.

What if Ava believed she couldn’t rely on him in the future? What if his failure to save her from Anthony led to her never trusting him again? What if he’d been wrong, and the happy ending he’d insisted they could find together was no more than a fictional fucking fairytale?

Jared collapsed back onto the couch. He put his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. The breath whooshed from his lungs as though he’d been sucker-punched.

“Bro.” Greg sat down beside him. “We were here, and we didn’t do anything. We can’t change that.” He put his hand on Jared’s shoulder. “But we can change what happens from today.”

Jared shook his head, not negating Greg’s words, just not sure what to do with them.

“She loves you. Maybe not the same way you love her, but she loves you. If anyone can make a difference to how she handles her future and comes to terms with her past, it’s you.”

“It’s not that simple.” Nothing had been simple since Ava met Anthony.

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying if you keep on being there for her, whenever she needs you, you’ll find a way to fix her. I have faith.”

Jared heaved in a breath. Lucky Greg had faith. Jared’s was hanging by a thread. This morning, he and Ava had made love. Now she didn’t want to see him.

It was pretty hard to imagine that thread not snapping from the slightest rattle.

Ava wiped her palms on her jeans. Her heart pounded, loud enough she was sure it echoed through the empty waiting room.

Seeing Jared had never made her feel like this before, like she’d jump out of her skin if she didn’t lay eyes on him in the next three seconds. But then she’d never slept with her best friend before. Or sat on his face while he’d licked her all the way to heaven—with his arms tied behind his back.

Tremors still pulsed through her every time she thought about their physical intimacy. How was it possible their entire relationship had changed in less than a week? One minute, he was living in America, dating a woman named Angela. The next, he was back in Sydney, declaring his love.

And she was…responding. Craving every kiss he fed her. Aching for his touch. And utterly terrified every time he came close.

It didn’t make sense.

Ten days had passed since they’d made love. Ten days without seeing him. It had taken four days before she’d sent him a SMS. Since then, they’d texted a fair bit, but that was all. She’d needed the time apart to get her head screwed on right. Not that the week and a half alone had helped. She still had no idea how she felt or what she wanted from him. Or from herself, for that matter.

Ava had spent the better part of a year adjusting to her new life. She’d reached a point where she was almost comfortable in her own skin. She could protect herself in a dangerous situation and talk to strange men without fear flaring. Her friends were relaxing around her, finally stopping their millions of questions about what had gone wrong with her marriage. Her shop was thriving, and Ava had begun to find wisps of joy in every day.

No, she hadn’t been happy or content or the Ava she once was. Anthony had destroyed any chance of her ever being the old Ava again. But she’d survived, and she’d been doing okay.

And then Jared returned and pretty much blew her world wide open.

Suddenly surviving and doing okay weren’t enough. Suddenly she wanted more, and the more that she wanted was…her best friend.

How had that happened? How had she fallen in lust with her bestie, when sex and physical contact of any kind scared the bejeepers out of her?