Free Read Novels Online Home

My Best Friend's Sister by Q.B. Tyler (6)


Ava barely talked to me the last few days. She’s ignored my calls, given me the shortest answers via text, and has more excuses as to why she couldn’t hang out. I know she studies a lot, but I also know she is avoiding me, and it sucks. I miss her.

In the week we had reconnected, I realized how much Ava had always meant to me. I don’t know if I hurt her feelings, or if she’s just being pissy with me, or maybe it’s her time of the month, but this shit is ending tonight. Which is how I ended up at a club in New York, on a Saturday night, in the dead of winter.

I’d asked her to have dinner with me tonight, and when she politely declined, I demanded to know why. It was Friday, meaning she didn’t have class the next morning so there was no reason why she couldn’t see me like she’d avoided since we’d had dinner at her house. She told me she was going out with people from her class and “if I wanted to, I could come.” I could hear the shock in her voice when I told her I’d be there. Called your bluff, Remington.

I step out of the cab and groan when I see the long line down the block. I know what to do here.

I walk up to the bouncer. “How much to not wait in this line?”

He gives me the once over, then looks next to me, assumedly looking for another person. “You’re by yourself?”

“Yep.”

“No woman?”

I look next to me to see if one manifested between the car and here. No, asshole. “Just me.”

“One-fifty.”

“To get in here?” Who the fuck are you kidding, pal? This place probably doesn’t cost one-fifty to keep the lights on.

“Hot night tonight.” He shrugs. “Take it or leave it.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever.” I pull out my card, and he looks at me like I’ve grown a third head.

“Do I look like I have the machine to run that? Cash only.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Can’t you run it inside?”

“You can’t be serious.” He looks at me. I was well aware that most clubs took cash only, but I was also aware that most clubs made concessions, especially when someone whips out a black American Express card.

“Where’s the closest ATM?” I grit out.

“What do I look like, Google maps? How the fuck should I know?”

I run a hand through my hair and make my way down the street toward the lit shops hoping there’s a bullshit ATM amongst the seas of late-night pizza shops and markets.

 

Need to get cash to jump the line, be in soon.

 

Ava: You’re here? I have cash! I’ll come out and get you.

 

No, stay inside. I got it.

 

Well, she doesn’t seem mad that I’m here; that’s a plus.

 

Ava: Kennedy is here…be cool! Don’t rat me out!

 

I don’t even realize I’m moving faster down the street until I’m slightly out of breath when I reach the first ATM in between a broken payphone and a group of rats feasting on a pile of trash. So, what, you’re jealous of Kennedy now? I think to myself, wondering where this feeling of annoyance came from all of a sudden.

I’m back at the club and hand the bouncer one-sixty. “You going to give me my change or?”

“Service fee,” he says, stamping my wrist.

“Of course.” Not that I give a fuck about the ten dollars or the one hundred and fifty others, but principle. I walk down a long corridor that is only lit with low purple lighting as I can hear the bass of the music through the wall. I enter the main club, and there are people everywhere. How the hell am I going to find Ava?

 

Here, where are you?

 

Ava: When you walk in, go to the left! I’m at the bar there.

 

I move through the crowds and stop in my tracks when I see Ava dancing with a few of her friends. Her eyes find mine as I head toward her, and she gives me an enthusiastic smile.

“You made it!” she says, and I waste no time pulling her into my arms and holding her tightly. I tuck my face in her neck and press a brief kiss on her cheek before pulling away. “Hi, Ava, long time no see, stranger.”

“Sorry.” She blanches. “Been a crazy week.” I nod, knowing it’s a bullshit answer. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’m going to go to the bar.” What the fuck am I doing here? Her friends are young law school students; they don’t want me hanging around.

“I’ll come with!” she tells me and links her arm through mine, leading me to believe she’s also a little bit drunk. We get to the bar, and she leans over slightly to get the bartender's attention.

“We should take a picture to send to Tucker; he’ll be so jealous he’s not here.” She taps the person next to us before I can protest. “Can you take our picture?” she asks a girl with fiery red hair and a dress too tight for her. She points her phone at us and takes one.

“You guys are such a hot couple.” She giggles as she takes a sip of what is probably a very strong drink.

I wasn’t going to correct her, but I wasn’t going to say anything either. Ava, however, perks up. “Thanks! His dick is huge.” She giggles, and I pull her away from the equally drunk girl.

“Ava!”

“What? From what I felt, it was big.”

“That’s not the point!” I chuckle. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not that much.”

“What does not that much mean?”

“Not enough to forget that the only reason you’re here is because you think I’m mad at you.”

“Are you?”

She looks at me for a beat, then shakes her head. “No. I’m not. A little bummed out, but I get it. I’ll get over it.”

But did I want her to get over it? I wasn’t over it. I want nothing more than to take her home or to her place so we could talk or…something. But I couldn’t do it here. I needed her alone.

“Ava, I--”

“Hey, babe, I was looking for you,” I hear as an arm slides around Ava’s shoulders, effectively interrupting me.

Babe? What the fuck? Stop touching her!

“Sorry, Jackson got here, and we were just getting a drink!” She smiles up at him.

“Oh, Jackson…friend of Ava’s brother, right?” he says, and I resist the urge to punch his face in.

“I’m a friend of Ava’s too.”

Ava shoots me a warning look. “Jackson, this is Kennedy.”

“A very good friend,” Kennedy interjects, and I can hear the underlying comment in his words: Back. The. Fuck. Off.

Not a chance, Douchebag the Fourth. Not a fucking chance.

 

 

Ava has barely left my side since I showed up, but I think it has less to do with wanting to spend time with me and more with the fact that I don’t know anyone here, and she feels like she needs to babysit. McDouchebag on the other hand, seems to hate my mere presence and is seemingly trying to make my time here as uncomfortable as possible.

He’s used every excuse to touch her, hold her hand, kiss her, and, I swear, at one point his hand, which was resting possessively on her shoulder, grazed her breast. Breasts that I had my mouth all over just a few days ago.

Breasts that belonged to me.

I swallow hard and look away from the show I believe is only meant for me as I try and rein in my temper. The last thing I need is to punch this guy in the face. She’s going to give this asshole her virginity? I don’t know what I was expecting from Kennedy; even she had said that he’d been man-whoring around her class. I should have expected a pretty boy face was behind a name like Kennedy Burke the Fourth.

I lean down close to her ear under the guise that it’s just due to the loud music blaring through the packed club, but really, I just need to be close to her. “I’m going to get another drink; do you want anything?” She shivers, and I smile at the reaction I get out of her. She’s affected by me. Maybe I can stop this plan she seems to have put into motion with Kennedy.

I pull away, and I can feel the daggers he is shooting at me. Ava, however, doesn’t notice. She peeks up at me through her eyelashes, and I don’t even think she knows how sexy she looks in this moment.

This woman can seduce me with just a fucking look. Why have I been fighting her? Fighting this?

“No, I’m okay. I think I should slow down.”

“Good girl,” I say instantly. Maybe in her more sober state she’ll be less likely to do something stupid with Kennedy. I know all too well the mistakes that can happen after one too many drinks. And something tells me I would be powerless to stop it.

I head back toward the bar to order another whiskey. I wasn’t drunk, far from it. But I needed something to calm the tension coursing through me that Kennedy’s presence had caused. I’m leaning against the bar when I feel someone stand right next to me.

I look to the right, and my eyes inwardly roll when I see who it is. Oh, this is going to be great.

“Do we have a problem…Walsh?” This asshole wants to go toe-to-toe with me? Is he kidding? I’ll squash this kid instantly. I don’t miss the way he eyes me angrily as he tips back his Bud Light bottle.

I shoot him the smuggest grin I can muster. “No, Kennedy, I don’t think we do.”

“Because I don’t give a shit how much money you have. Besides…I’m sure I have more...” He sneers.

“Don’t you mean Daddy has more? That is who got you into law school, right? I’m sure your B minus average due to one too many keg stands at the frat house doesn’t exactly make you desirable to NYU law.” I roll my eyes. Naturally, I had done my research on the guy who had Ava so smitten. Come to find out he was just the stereotypical guy using his father to get a leg up. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but don’t pretend you got here on your own merit.

“Who the fuck told you that?” His eyes are wide and nervous as if he’s worried I know all the secrets of his past. And that I’ll divulge them to Ava.

“I have eyes and ears everywhere, Kennedy Burke.”

He narrows his eyes at me and takes a step closer. “Stay the fuck away from her. Ava doesn’t want you.”

Despite the fact I know he doesn’t know shit about my relationship with Ava, it stings hearing it.

“You don’t know shit about what Ava wants.”

“Oh yeah? I beg to differ. You’re like family. She doesn’t see you that way. Get over it, Walsh. Why else would she invite you out with her friends tonight. Invite you out with me? A guy she’s been talking to for weeks?” He chuckles. “God, are you delusional? Tell me you don’t think it’s more than that?”

“My relationship with Ava is none of your business, and frankly, you’re irrelevant to me. I would be willing to bet you won’t even be around in a few months. Or do you think your reputation of sleeping around your entire class doesn’t precede you?”

“Ava’s different. And why the fuck do you know so much about me? What are you, obsessed? Are you obsessed with Ava? Is that it? Some weird crush from your past that now you can act on?”

I feel the familiar itch in my palm that comes whenever I feel the urge to hit someone, and I flex my hand to try to rid the sensation. Do not hit him, Walsh. Do not.

He snorts. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I growl. “Her brother is my best friend, and he asked me to look out for her and that includes keeping her away from assholes like you.”

“She doesn’t want to be kept away from me. The way she’s been rubbing on me all night. She wants me, Walsh.” He looks over, and I follow his gaze to the beautiful brunette that has weaved some sort of spell over me. She’s dancing with a few friends, her hands in the air as she lets the music take over her body. “She doesn’t want you. So stop making her uncomfortable. You’re just embarrassing yourself because I’ll be the one taking her home tonight.” He sneers, and I can physically feel the fire in my eyes. I know what he is all about. The love ‘em and leave ‘em type. He’s going to break Ava’s heart, and I won’t have it.

He pulls out his wallet and drops a twenty on my tab. “For your troubles.” He smirks. Who does this asshole think he is with this shit? He’s just trying to rile you up. Let it go. Let it go.

“You do know I’m fucking her, right?” That is the furthest thing from letting it the fuck go.

“You’re full of shit.”

I shrug, knowing I can’t go too far with the lie. And for all intents and purposes, I could be fucking her. If I weren’t so stupid. Or honorable. I don’t know which one I am at the moment.

“Fine, don’t believe me. But make no mistake, Kennedy Burke the Fourth,” I draw his name out. “Ava. Is. Mine.I walk away from him without another glance back, and I can only hope I didn’t make a huge mistake.

You definitely did, Jackson. Ava is going to kill you.

I make my way over to Ava, preparing to make my exit, hopefully with her in tow. “I’m going to head out,” I whisper in her ear.

She frowns and looks up at me with those bright eyes that can bring me to my knees in an instant. “But you just got here.” Her bottom lip juts out, and I rub my thumb across it.

“Come with me?” I ask, and she surveys the scene, looking around at her friends, who all seem to be teetering on the edge of blackout.

“Come with you…where?” I see the mischief dancing in her eyes.

“Wherever you want. We can go to your place or…mine?”

She bites her bottom lip, and my cock twitches in appreciation. She presses her hands against my chest and looks up at me. “Jackson…”

“Please, Ava. We should talk.”

“About what?”

I scan the club, and I know it’s only a matter of time before someone interrupts us. “Can we not do this here?”

She twists her mouth as if she’s contemplating her decision before nodding once. “I need to say goodbye to my friends…and Kennedy.”

“You don’t owe that asshole anything,” I growl, and she frowns in response.

“I guess it probably doesn’t look good that I’m leaving with you…,” she trails off. “Maybe I should just text him.”

“Great, let's go,” I tell her as I yank her out of the large room and down the long hallway before she can change her mind. We’ve taken two steps outside when I hear Ava’s name being called behind us.

Shit.

She spins around, and I know this is not going to end well when Kennedy comes strolling out of the club. “So, you were just going to leave without saying bye?”

“I’m sorry, Kennedy; I’m just a little drunk, and I think it would be best if I went home.”

“With him? Ava, I would feel better if you’d let me take you home.” Feel better? As if I’d ever hurt Ava. Ever.

She looks up at me and furrows her brow. I can hear her thoughts: Why did he say that? I know you’d never hurt me. “Kennedy, I didn’t want to make you leave early just because I can’t hold my liquor. It’s fine; Jackson was leaving anyway.”

“I’ll bet he was.” He snorts. “Ava, can I talk to you alone?”

Fuck fuck fuck. “Ava, there’s a cab,” I whisper in her ear, praying she doesn’t give Kennedy the chance to talk to her. If I can just fucking get her alone, I can explain what happened and why I said it. But if he tells her, I’m fucked.

“Five minutes?” She puts her hand up, and I let out a breath. I think she can feel the anxiety radiating off me. She turns her back to Kennedy and looks up at me. “I’m leaving with you,” she says, and I’m not sure if I’m imagining the breathiness of her voice, but it doesn’t stop my cock from rising upward in response. “But let me just take care of this.” I think I can hear what she’s saying: I choose you. So, let me go let him down easy. Or maybe it’s all in my head.

I let out a deep breath before I tuck a hair behind her ear. “Okay.”

 

 

I watch as Ava and Kennedy stand several feet away from me. Ava glances at me a few times, but I can’t exactly see her facial expressions. I see him walk away from her and back into the club, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I see her walking toward me. I open the car door for her, assuming she’s going to slide in when I see her hand flying through the air, and then I feel her hand across my cheek.

Fuck! She knows.

The peanut gallery of people still in line to get into the club respond with a round of various “ohs” and exaggerated “damns.”

“What the fuck?!” she exclaims.

“Ava, let’s just get a cab. Let me explain.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you! Why would you tell him that?! And don’t you dare pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about!”

“Ava, you don’t know guys like that. Kennedy is—”

“Exactly like you?” she yells, and my heart sinks hearing her thoughts about me spelled out so viciously. “How could you do this to me, Jackson? I trusted you!”

“I know, Ava; I snapped. I know I shouldn’t have said what I said but—”

“He told me you said I was yours.” Her eyes water. “But I’m not. Not even close.”

False, Ava. You and I both know that’s false.

“Ava, I’m sorry,” I tell her sadly. I wish she would just get in the car so I could explain. “I know I shouldn’t have said it.”

She shakes her head and looks back toward the club. “He didn’t believe you anyway. But… it still hurt.”

“I said it because I was hoping…,” I trail off. “I want to…” I clear my throat. “I want to be your first.”

She snorts. “Oh really? Why now? Is it because you’ve met Kennedy, and you see he’s actually interested in me? You don’t want to fuck me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either? Is this some shit you cooked up with Tucker to keep guys away from me?”

The sexual frenzy flooding my body as it thought about having sex with Ava is brought to a halt when she mentions her brother. I’ll deal with Tucker later. One Remington at a time. And frankly, the only one I care about at the moment is the feisty brunette whom I desperately want.

“Ava, it’s not about that. Fuck Kennedy. He’s not the right guy for you. He doesn’t deserve you. You don’t want to get mixed up with a guy like that.”

“Oh, but you deserve me? You didn’t want to fuck me, remember?”

“I NEVER said that,” I snap.

“Well it’s too late now anyway. Not after this.”

“Ava…,” I trail off.

She backs up slowly, and I resist the urge to reach out for her, knowing she wouldn’t want me to touch her. “Just go home, Jackson.”

“You’re staying?”

“Kennedy has never deceived me about who he is, Jackson. You have.”

I call after her, but she doesn’t turn back around. I go to follow her when the same asshole bouncer from earlier puts his hand out.

“Hold on, lover boy.” He stops me. Oh, what the fuck? This shit again? “One-fifty.”

“You’re fucking with me, right? You saw I just came out of there.”

He shrugs. “No re-entry. Besides, doesn’t seem like that girl wants anything to do with you. Let it go before I have to call the cops.”

“You don’t understand, she’s my—”

“Whatever she is, she doesn’t want to talk to you right now, and I’m not in the mood to deal with a lover’s quarrel or whatever it is you two have going on. So, let her cool off and go home.”

I furrow my brow, wondering when this glorified doorman became a fucking therapist. I huff and move toward the sea of taxis waiting for the drunk people to leave the club at last call.

 

Ava, I’m sorry.

 

I text her, although I know I won’t get a reply. I’m shocked when she responds immediately.

 

Ava: Whatever.

 

Shit. She hates me.