Chapter 3

Jude

The muscles in Ava’s slender neck stiffened at the sound of my voice. She turned slowly to look up at me with one hand clutching the end of the bar. Those cat-like green eyes were shielded when they looked up to meet mine. Standing this close after all this time was having a heavier effect on my brain than the few shots of alcohol I had taken before the reception. She smelled of vanilla. Her collarbone shimmered with glitter when she shifted beneath the dim lights. Her lips pouted slightly as she looked me up and down, and her eyes hooded with… disdain? Or was it desire?

“Jude,” she said tightly. “How are you?”

Always the polite one. “I’ve been great. Just been working, as you probably know.”

“Not really.”

Nerves twisted in the pit of my stomach. When it came to certain people in Gypsum, they were easy to deal with. I could stare anyone down. I could deal with a few angry stares without even giving a shit. Ava was different, though. I couldn’t take back that summer, no matter how much I wanted to. I still remembered the cold look in Ava’s eyes, full of grief and anger, when she had told me I’d go straight to hell if I ever died on a motorbike. “It would be karma,” she’d said.

I didn’t know how to interpret the look in Ava’s eyes at the present. I fell back on what had worked in the past—being cocky.

“You look beautiful by the way,” I said smoothly. “That dress suits you perfectly. You’ve got some killer curves now.”

Ava arched an eyebrow. “As opposed to never having them?”

“That’s not what I meant. You just look different is all I’m saying. Different in a good way.”

“Right. Thanks, I guess.”

I leaned on the bar with one hand. “So, you’ve probably heard that I’m a famous motocross star now. Remember when you doubted I would ever make it?”

“That wasn’t just me thinking that. The entire city of Gypsum thought it.”

“Joke’s on all of you, then,” I remarked sarcastically. The local band started up another fast-paced song. “Do you want to dance?”

“I’m not drunk enough to dance,” Ava said.

“I can fix that,” I said, despite her protests. “Two shots on me, please. What? You’re telling me that Ava James doesn’t get drunk every once and a while?”

Ava shot a nervous look over her shoulder. “Not with my parents around usually. I’m surprised they haven’t come over here yet to kick your ass for talking to me.”

The bartender set two shot glasses down in front of us. I picked up mine with an indifferent shrug. “They left a little while ago. Your father already threatened to kick my ass if I tried talking to you.”

“You deserve to get your ass kicked,” Ava said, picking up her shot glass. “This cocky superstar attitude isn’t going to get you anywhere. You realize that, right?”

“Are you a psychologist now?” I frowned at her. “I thought you were some sort of writer or whatever in the big NYC.”

The look on Ava’s face darkened, then. She set her shot glass back down on the bar.

“Look, if you’re going to act like an ass, JJ—” I winced at the acid on my nickname. “Then go run your game on someone else. There are plenty of girls here who still think you are some sort of god. I’m not one of them.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I know that you don’t think I am. I’m just—” I stopped as nerves crashed over me again. This was the woman I had once thought I was going to marry right out of high school. She had made me feel wanted, cared for. Even loved. I had taken a huge shit on that.

Hot guilt trickled through me for the first time since riding into Gypsum. Out of everyone in Gypsum, I only cared about Ava’s opinion. I didn’t blame her for not seeing me in the best light, either. Things had unraveled fast after that summer. She refused to speak to me, and I had given her the space to grieve with the blind hope that things would get better again. It was the only thing that I could think to do because I couldn’t stand to see that devastated look in her eyes. Because of Andy. Because of me.

The rest of the women I had encountered over the years since leaving Gypsum soaked up my harsh attitude, but Ava hated it. She was clearly not impressed with the person I had made myself out to be for the past few years.

Ava sat down on the barstool to present her back to me. The gesture stung deeper than I wanted to admit.

“I’m sorry,” I finished lamely. “I really am, Ava.”

“I’m sure you are,” she said.

“I know how empty it is, but you gotta know that I really am glad to see you again. When my manager told me about the wedding, I knew you were going to be here because of Emily. I told him that I had to come here to Gypsum because I wanted the chance to see you again.”

Her back stiffened. So did her voice. “To see me again?”

“Yes,” I said. “To see you. I only wanted a chance to tell you how sorry I really am for what happened. I didn’t want things to go the way they did, but I thought I was giving you what you wanted at the time.”

“I didn’t know what I wanted at the time, Jude. I was only seventeen.”

“I was only seventeen, too,” I said. “I didn’t know shit back then on how to handle what we went through.”

I grasped my shot glass and tossed it back. I savored the burn of alcohol in the back of my throat as it rushed to calm my unsteady nerves. Ava fingered the side of her still full shot glass before she slowly twisted back around on her bar stool. Tears were glittering in her eyes as she looked up at me.

“I just wanted you to be there,” she said. “That was all that I wanted, Jude. You should’ve been there for me.”

“I regret it every single day,” I assured her, pointing one finger to punctuate each word. “You have to know that I’m not heartless. I still can’t sleep right after all these years.”

“No one can.” Ava glanced across the dance floor to where Dean and Emily were dancing together with large grins on their faces. “At least those two ended up happily ever after. They made it through everything.”

“I’m happy for them,” I said, and I genuinely was happy to see Dean happy. “I know that Emily didn’t want me to come, for obvious reasons, but I still appreciated the invite when I got it in the mail.”

“We were surprised to see you here,” Ava said. “We all bet on whether you would show up.”

“Who’s the asshole now?”

“You,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Make no mistake. We all know who the bigger asshole is.”

She slipped back to lean on the bar with her elbows. The little shift of body made the tops of her breasts pop. I found my eyes lingering there hungrily, but I couldn’t let myself act on those feelings. Yet.

“I’m a freelance journalist now,” she said. “In case you were ever going to ask.”

“Impressive,” I said. “It’s not surprising, though. You always loved English a bit too much.”

“I live in New York now, too,” Ava continued, swiping up her shot glass to down it easily. “It pays the bills at least. I’ve had a couple of places publish my pieces. I’m aiming for the New York Press.”

“That’s a fancy place to write for. You’d be able to do it.” I motioned at the bartender for another round of shots. “Two more on me.”

“Water,” Ava corrected, a pink flush filling her cheeks. “I think you’re trying to get me drunk for some reason.”

“Never,” I said with obvious mock offense, which earned a small giggle in return. “Remember the one party we went to that summer?”

Ava pulled a disgusted face at that. “I try to forget that summer as much as I possibly can. That’s the party where I went crazy, right?”

“Crazy in a good way,” I murmured, leaning in to whisper into her ear. “It’s okay to get a bit crazy sometimes.”

That night had been amazing. The both of us had fallen into some sort of laundry room where Ava had pulled me into one of the most passionate kisses ever. We had been skirting that flirty line for a long time, until I thought I would go blue all over. That night had been a prelude to an even hotter summer.

My body ached to continue that summer. The blood in my body drained to one particular organ that throbbed and ached for a good release. An amazing release.

Goosebumps appeared over the sensitive patch of skin underneath Ava’s ear. A shudder rippled through her as she reached out to grab her water with a trembling hand.

“It won’t be good for me to lose control,” she said shakily. “Don’t kid yourself, Jude. I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“We’ll see how the night goes,” I said confidently. “Come on. Let’s dance before this band gets tired.”

Ava set her water down with a shake of her head. “No, Jude. I—”

“No excuses,” I said, and reached out to grasp her soft hand in my own. The feeling of her small and delicate hand in mine filled my head with tempting thoughts. “This is a celebration. You don’t want people to think we are making amends if we are over here, talking all alone near the bar.”

“They’d think we are by dancing,” Ava pointed out, following me reluctantly on the dance floor. “I can’t do this, Jude. You know that—”

I tugged her into the circle of my arms. She clicked her mouth shut in response, while a fire flickered to life in her eyes. I took her hand and extended it to the side. My free hand rested on her hip. I could feel her move seamlessly beneath my fingers as she followed my lead without hesitation. It felt good to have her in my arms again after all this time. The deep and endless hole in my heart could never be filled, no matter how hard I tried to fill it with money, women, alcohol, and drugs. With Ava, it felt filled again.

Maybe it was pent-up frustration over the past few years. Maybe it was the fact that I was drunk on having Ava in my arms. I didn’t know which one it was, but I couldn’t resist leaning in to press a kiss against those magenta-colored lips. They looked so full and soft.

An electric shock went through me. She tasted sweet, like alcohol and something else that I couldn’t put my finger on. Ava’s lips moved underneath mine to kiss me back before she pulled away with a startled gasp. Her eyes were wide with horror as she slipped from my grasp.

“Don’t do that,” Ava hissed, reaching up to touch her lips. “You can’t just come back here like everything is normal and kiss me.”

“Ava.”

She turned sharply on the heel of her shoe before making her way through a stunned crowd of people. I glared at them when they all turned to look at me. Then I stalked back over to the bar to order another shot.

“JJ?”

Dean approached from where he had left Emily with the group of bridesmaids. They were also looking over at me with frowns. Except for one bridesmaid. Marcie Keller, I remembered. She had wanted to hook up one summer, and apparently, that sentiment hadn’t changed, judging by the smile she sent in my direction.

“What?” I asked. “Good party, by the way. Plenty of booze here.”

Dean gave me a piercing look. “Look, man. I invited you here because you always had my back in high school. I don’t think you mean to hurt people—”

“That seems to be the consensus,” I muttered, swiping up the shot glass from the bartender.

“But this is Ava that we’re talking about,” Dean said. “She’s a good friend to Emily and me. Don’t go there because I might have to kick your ass.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m going to be out of here, first thing Monday morning. Temptation gone.” I patted him on the shoulder roughly. “Go back. Enjoy your new wife. This is about you and Emily. Not about Ava and me.”