Ava

“Okay, fine. I was wrong,” I pant, breathless.

“I’m sorry, what?” He cups his ear, like he didn’t hear me, when the smug bastard heard exactly what I just said.

“I said, I was wrong. You clearly are superhuman when it comes to sex.”

“Damn right I am, baby. And, wait, I need to get my camera, so I can have it on film—you admitting that you’re wrong.”

I give him the middle finger, and he bursts out laughing. A full-on belly laugh, and it’s one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard.

And I can’t help but laugh, too.

He reaches over, cupping my face, and brings my mouth to his. He softly kisses me. “You rock in the sack, too, Speedy. I’ve never had it as good as I do with you.”

When I hear that, my stomach flips over, but I play it cool. “Well, that’s ’cause I’m the best. And, if you put the best and the best together, you’re going to get spectacular sex.”

“Mind-blowing.”

“Astro-fucking-nomical.”

“Amen to that, baby.”

He puts his fist up to me, and I bump it with my own.

I glance at the clock. “I should get up.”

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me again. “Not yet.”

“I really need to get showered and ready. My boss is a bit of a tyrant. I’m already on the clock, and he’ll go apeshit if he knows he’s paying me to have sex on the job.”

He freezes cold. I’ve never seen anything like it.

And I instantly know I said the wrong thing.

“Gabe?”

He pulls away, and then he’s getting out of bed. He puts on his athletic shorts and gets a T-shirt from the drawer. He drags it on over his head, his movements rough and jerky.

I say his name again, getting to my knees. I hold the sheet around me.

He doesn’t answer.

“Gabe!”

He stops and slowly turns to face me.

“What’s going on?”

“You wanted to get up. I’m getting up.”

“You’re acting weird.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to lie around in bed with you all fucking day. I’ve got shit to do.”

“You were just asking me to stay in bed with you, so don’t give me that crap. Just tell me what’s wrong. Is it something I said? The joke I made about you paying me for sex?”

His face hardens to stone. “I’m just done, Ava.”

“What?” My heart starts to pound in my chest.

“Are you deaf? I said, I’m done.” He turns and walks to the door.

“Done with what, Gabe?”

“You,” he says without turning around.

Then, he walks out, slamming the door behind him.

Fighting tears, I scramble out of bed and throw some clothes on. Then, I’m flying out of his bedroom, straight after him.

I find him in the living room, sitting on the sofa. A lit cigarette in his hand.

I stand at the end of the sofa, staring down at him. “What the hell was that?”

“Go away, Ava.”

“No, I won’t fucking go away. I want to know what just happened back there. Because I’m confused. One minute, we were fine, and then I made a joke—which, granted, wasn’t my finest joke—but the next thing I know, everything has gone to shit. So, you’re gonna have to explain this to me because I’m in the dark here.”

His head turns, and he levels a dark look at me. “I don’t have to explain shit to you.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t! I fucking told you, I can’t do this anymore. End of.”

“No, it’s not end of just because you say so! There are two of us in this, Gabe! Not just you.”

He stubs his cigarette out and stands up. “But that’s just it. It is just me in this. Because you and I are just fucking, Ava. I might have said we’re dating, but we’re not. I fuck you because I can, and I tell you we’re dating to keep you happy. And, now, I’m done fucking you, so you can go.” He throws an arm in the direction of the door.

Pain ricochets through my chest, like he just shot me. But I hold myself together.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Gabriel! And you’re so full of shit that it’s pouring out of your ears! Say what you want, but I know you’re lying.”

“No, you’re just fucking deluded.”

“Fuck you. The only one deluded around here is you. And I know this has to do with me saying something about you paying me for sex. Because I saw your reaction the second I said it. I know you’re sensitive about it. I just don’t know why. But I know this”—I jerk a hand between us—“has something to do with you not wanting to pay me a salary while we’re sleeping together. So, you can try to tell me it’s not that and that you’re done with me, but I know it’s all bullshit. And, if you give a shit about me, you’ll tell me the truth. And if you don’t…then I guess we really are done.” I spin on my heel and walk away.

My heart is beating out of my chest, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

“Ava.”

I stop at the sound of my name, but I don’t turn around.

He sighs loudly. “Jesus. Okay! You’re fucking right! It is about that. About me being sensitive about the money-and-sex thing. I was being an asshole when I said I was done. I don’t want you to go.”

I turn around, but I fold my arms over my chest. I don’t want him to think I’ve forgiven him yet. “And?”

“And what?”

“Why are you so sensitive about the money-and-sex thing?”

He looks away.

“Gabe, you don’t have to tell me anything. I wish you would trust me enough to want to, but you don’t have to.”

His eyes snap back to mine. “It’s not about not trusting you. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”

“Then, what is it?”

His eyes go to the floor. His hands on his hips, he heaves out another sigh. “I don’t want to change the way you look at me.”

I drop my arms and take a step toward him. “Nothing could change the way I look at you.”

He lets out a laugh, but it’s hollow and humorless. “That’s an easy statement to make when you don’t know everything.”

“So, tell me.”

He shakes his head, like he’s having an internal battle with himself.

“Gabe…”

“I used to sleep with women for money.”

“What?”

“And my parents are in prison for drug trafficking, racketeering, and murder.”