I threw the pillow down, lay on the couch, tucked myself in a ball and wrapped my arms around my knees. I’d barely got in this position before Luke was there, lifting me up and carrying me to the bed. I didn’t struggle and I didn’t say a word.
He put me in bed. I scooted as far away from him as I could and settled. He yanked me to him, my back to his front, and held me close. I didn’t struggle against that either.
“I’m thinkin’ you givin’ up my tee isn’t a good sign,” he said into my hair.
He was so right.
I didn’t answer.
I was giving him the Ava Barlow Silent Treatment. I was famous for my silent treatment. Once I didn’t talk to Noah for a week after he’d done some stupid thing to piss me off. It drove him crazy and in the end he begged me to talk to him. This was one of the very few happy memories I had after he cleaned me out. I was figuring, cuffing me naked to the bed and going out to do backup during some dangerous situation (not to mention, leaving me at all during my second on-the-verge-of-having-a-Lucas-Stark-induced-orgasm in one day) was worth at least twenty-seven years of the Ava Barlow Silent Treatment.
Luke just held tight. I stayed tense. After awhile, I felt his bodyweight relax into me as he fell asleep.
I didn’t fall asleep. I needed advice and not from Good Ava and Bad Ava. I needed someone to talk to about my life and what I should do. I had people kidnapping me, rear-ending me and pursuing me in car chases down busy streets. I had Luke thinking we were together and what we had was a “fuckuva lot more” than nothing.
I couldn’t talk to Sissy, she wanted me with Luke. I couldn’t talk to my Mom, she was shit at advice and usually didn’t spend much time listening before she turned the conversation to herself. I couldn’t talk to my sisters because I tried not to talk to my sisters if I could help it. I couldn’t talk to Uncle Vito because he was scary. I couldn’t talk to Mrs. Stark because she also wanted me with Luke.
I could have talked to my Dad. He was a great listener and even better at advice.
I felt trapped, scared, sad and because of all that, tears slid out of the corners of my eyes.
I pressed my lips together. Luke’s arm went tight around me and he buried his face in my hair.
“Babe,” he said softly and I knew he wasn’t asleep and he knew I was crying.
Hell and damnation.
I kept silent but took a deep, broken breath to control the tears. When he heard the breath, his arm went even tighter but he didn’t say anything else.
After awhile, I fell asleep.
* * * * *
Sometime in the middle of the night, Luke moved me, rolling under me, situating me at his other side.
I tried to turn my back to him but he didn’t allow that, caught my leg behind my knee and hooked it over his waist.
I didn’t struggle nor did I say a word.
Luke’s hand ran from my knee, up my thigh, over my ass, halting at my hip. “Ava Babe, you awake?”
I told him I was by pressing my forehead to his throat but also told him, even so, I wasn’t speaking to him by keeping silent.
“Jesus, you could bring a man to his knees,” he muttered, but his tone didn’t sound angry, it sounded resigned, as if he knew this was to be his fate. Worse, it sounded like he didn’t really mind. Worse than that, I found this moved me in such a profound way it was so big I couldn’t bury it, I had to carry it with me and that I didn’t like at all.
It took awhile but I fell back to sleep.
* * * * *
I woke up in the same position as ever when I was in bed with Luke and I immediately remembered I was in the throes of my Silent Treatment.
Without a word and without looking at him I rolled away. I threw my legs over the side, went directly to the kitchen to nab a diet, got my stuff and went to the bathroom. I didn’t come out until I was dressed and ready for my day.
When I got out of the bathroom, the bed was empty. Luke was in the kitchen making coffee, chest bare (of course), wearing his sweatpants from last night.
I went about the business of making myself toast and calling Sissy to ask her to come and take me to the gym (she decided to come with me). All the while I acted as if Luke didn’t exist.
I was wiping my hands on a kitchen towel after rinsing my plate when Luke tagged me around the waist, backed me against the opposite counter and moved in, hands on the counter on either side of me.
I tilted my head back to look up at him (silently).
“How long you gonna keep this up?” he asked.
I just stared at him.
His hands moved from the counter to either side of my neck, thumbs of both hands stroking my jaw. This felt nice and the warm look in his eyes was so killer, my dedication to the Silent Treatment took a direct hit.
Sucking it up, I recovered.
He kept talking. “I fucked up, Ava, I apologized. Not much more I can do.”
I kept staring at him.
One thumb slid along my lower lip and he watched it go then his eyes came to mine.
Gently he said, “Someone apologizes and they mean it, you should accept. Doesn’t say much about you if you don’t.”
I swallowed because he sounded disappointed in me and I never wanted Luke to be disappointed in me. In fact, I spent six years of my growing up life twisting myself into pretzels so that I would make him anything but disappointed in me. Not to mention, an entire year of my adult life changing my appearance to make sure, when he saw me again, he wouldn’t be disappointed in that either.
It wasn’t like a slap in the face but it didn’t feel good either.
Right after I had that thought I got angry because I wasn’t the one who cuffed me to his bed and left me there way longer than expected with nothing to do but worry and freak out. I didn’t want or ask to get kidnapped, shot at, manhandled, ordered about, taken to the verge of orgasm twice to be left wanting. In fact, I’d made it perfectly clear I didn’t want any of those things.
Furthermore, he had a scary job where he got called late at night to do scary things. And that scary job or the old “doing crazy shit” one got him that vicious scar slicing across his belly because he sure as hell didn’t have it when he left the neighborhood (I would have noticed or his Mom would have told my Mom). I wasn’t going to ask about it because I really didn’t want to know. Even if I wasn’t sworn off men, I didn’t know if I could hack being with who Luke had become. But I had to remind myself, I was sworn off men.
I just kept staring. The buzzer went. Sissy.
I slid away from him, grabbed my workout bag and headed to the elevator.
When I got in, hit the button and turned, he was leaning against the bar, arms crossed on his (bare) chest, eyes on me.
The doors slid shut.
* * * * *
I spent the rest of the day seeking advice.
Sissy (next to me on a stair machine in the gym):
“I’ve already told you what I think about Luke. In regards to Ren, just tell him you’re with Luke, he’ll back off. In regards to scary guy trying to run us down, just talk to Luke, he’ll take care of it. Simple.”
Okay. No.
Next!
Riley (after my workout and I cornered him even though he still looked pissed off at me, which, I might add, if Luke lost Riley as my friend I’d tack another ten years onto his Ava Barlow Silent Treatment Sentence):
“Jesus, Ava, what the fuck?” he breathed when I shared most of the story leaving out all of the sex stuff and Luke’s brutally honest proclamations. Then his face went gentle and I saw for the first time that Luke was right. Riley wanted to fuck me.
Jeez.
What was going on? How on earth did this happen?
“Do you want to stay with me?” Riley asked.
Hell no!
“Thanks, Riles. That’s sweet of you but I can’t,” I said softly.
Next!
Shirleen (at Fortnum’s, where Sissy and I went after the gym to get one of Tex?
??s unbelievably divine coffees):
“Child, tune out your head and follow your heart.” Her tawny eyes had gone soft.
Following my heart meant holding onto Luke and never letting go, that was until he got tired of me and scraped me off or he got filled with bullets and killed in a gunfight.
Not gonna happen.
“What are you doing here? I thought you had a day job,” I asked Shirleen. She was relaxed in one of the couches at the front of Fortnum’s where the espresso counter was.
“I’m pickin’ up orders for the boys in the surveillance room,” she said, tossing back another gulp of her cappuccino.
I hoped “the boys” weren’t hankering too much for their coffee, by the looks of Shirleen they were going to wait awhile.
Next!
Tex (while handing me my skinny, vanilla latte):
“Go on vacation…”
Hmm. This had merit.
“With Luke,” he finished.
I did not think so.
Next!
The Rock Chicks:
Jet: “Don’t fight it.”
Next!
Ally: “I don’t get it. Luke’s hot.”
Next!
Indy: “Do you want me to talk to Lee about this guy who chased you in his SUV?”
No!
Next!
Daisy (over the phone while Sissy was dropping me back at Luke’s):
“Sugar, take it one minute at a time. Life will lead you where you need to be.”
That’s what I was afraid of.
Then she went on. “And don’t worry about whoever is after you. When one of the Rock Chicks finds trouble, every one of the Hot Boy Brigade kicks in. Whoever-it-is will have to take ‘em down one by one to get to you and that’s just not gonna happen.”
Eek!
Next!
Jules (after Sissy dropped me off, I had a shower, picked up Luke’s newest clothing additions from the floor, started a load of his laundry and sat at my computer to research all-inclusive vacations in Jamaica):
“Give him time, Ava. There’s more to Luke than you know.”
“I’ve known him since I was eight!”
“I know, but you want the truth?”
No, I did not want the truth.
She gave it to me anyway. “I don’t think you know who he is now. If you did, there would be no question.”
Shit.
* * * * *
I finished my deadline project, e-mailed it off and was working on clearing all my other projects in order to send them in well ahead of the due dates which would cause client-wide strokes as I always worked right up to deadline.
I had a plan. I intended to clear my workload and disappear to Jamaica for a month, taking Sissy with me. By the time we got back all the macho men in my life, undoubtedly needing to give someone the business, would have moved on to a new girl and I’d be off the hook. Then it would be back to just me and my vibrators.
The elevator doors slid open and I knew it was Luke just because. It might have been a long time since I’d seen him, but my Sixth Luke Sense was instinctual and kicked in immediately, like riding a bike.
And anyway these days, I’d been getting lots of practice.
I ignored his presence, kept my back to the room and kept clicking through holiday getaway packages.
I heard his keys hit the bar and then he came up behind me. “Goin’ on vacation?” he asked.
I stayed silent and kept clicking. He waited a beat and then pulled out my chair at least four feet, me still in it.
My head shot up to look at him, my mouth opened and I almost cried, “Hey!” but just stopped myself.
He bent low, took a wrist and threw me over his shoulder. It took a lot of control but I didn’t struggle and stayed completely limp. He carried me to the bed, tossed me on it and followed me down. He settled part at my side, part on top of me and his hand came to my jaw.
“You don’t want to talk, Ava, we’ll do something else. We don’t have to talk to fuck.”
Uh-oh.
Escape!
I pulled out from under him and rolled away. He caught me and brought me back.
I glared at him. He ignored the glare and his face (and I might add his fantastic mouth) started to come closer.
“You scared me,” I blurted in a whisper, do not ask me why. He still had twenty-six years, three hundred and sixty-four days left on his Silent Treatment Sentence.
His head stopped moving and he looked from my mouth to my eyes.
Go on, Ava, share. Pour out your heart, Good Ava said softly in my ear.
Quiet! Shut down, Ava. He’ll just use it to hurt you eventually, Bad Ava was sounding desperate.
“You were gone a long time. I was worried something happened to you.” Now why did I say that? Why was I talking at all?
Still in a quiet voice I kept sharing, unable to stop myself. “I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know who you are, what you do. But I know that scar on your belly isn’t from an appendectomy.”
Oh… my… God.
Someone shut me up.
He rolled me to my side facing him and both his arms came around me as he said, “Ava.”
“No, Luke. I thought I was protecting myself against all things men. After last night, I’m protecting myself from something a lot scarier. I’m not one of those women who can hack that kind of life. I don’t want any part of it.”
“So this is your new excuse?” he asked, instead of being accusatory, his voice was soft, gentle, affectionate.
“It’s not an excuse, Luke. I figure you’ll screw me over or leave me, one way or another, and I’ll end up alone. I’m alone now and I’m happy with it. Why go through the pain of losing someone again?”
“Someone you care about,” he said.
“What?”
“Go through the pain of losing someone you care about.”
Whoa.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
We were not going to go there.
Time to change the subject.
“What’s the scar from?”
“Bullet to the gut,” he shared without hesitation.
I closed my eyes tight, visions of Luke with a gaping, bloody wound at his belly danced unhappily through my head. I didn’t like the visions, they scared the shit right out of me so I opened my eyes again.
“When?” I asked.
“Last summer.”
“How?”
“Babe,” he said softly and with a hint of regret. “I can’t tell you that. The cases we work are confidential.”
“Right,” I said.
“I’m good at what I do.”
“I’m sure you are.”
His hands drifted up my back, pulling me closer. “You’re hangin’ on to this to hold me back. You’re a lot stronger than you’re sayin’ and you know it,” he told me.
“How did Vance feel when he was trying to staunch the blood pouring out of Jules?” Luke’s body went still at my soft words and I knew it was wrong to use this against him but I kept at it. “I get the impression from both you and Jules that you two are close. You were there. How did you feel seeing her lying there bleeding?”
His face changed, to my shock he let me see the pain slice through it and it hurt like hell to watch.
Then he said, “Quiet, Ava.”
“You want me to go through that?”
One of his hands slid up my neck into my hair, twisting it gently in his fist. “You wanna know what I want?” he asked.
Um. No. I definitely didn’t want to know what he wanted.
Before I could get a word in, he told me. “I want the old you to come back and make me laugh. I want the new you to toss your attitude around and make me hard. I liked comin’ home tonight to you, even knowin’ you were pissed at me. I liked leavin’ last night for work, knowin’ you were in my bed. I might like it for a week or I might like it for a lot longer. I can’t make any promises. All I know is, I want you now and you want me even though y
ou won’t admit it. And I’m gonna do whatever it takes to give us what we want for as long as it lasts until however it ends.”
“You never listen to me,” I told him, beginning to get angry because I was right, if his latest speech was anything to go by he didn’t.
“I listen to you,” he said.
“Then you don’t hear me.”
“Ava, I hear you,” he was beginning to sound impatient.
I stared at him. He stared at me. This went on for a while.
He sighed and touched his lips to mine then said, “I’ll take you to dinner.”
“I don’t want dinner,” I shot back.
His eyes started to melt. “All right. I’m hungry but I’m happy to eat somethin’ else.”
Ee-yikes!
“I’ve just realized, I’m hungry. Let’s go to dinner.”
He gave me a half-grin.
We went to dinner.
Chapter Thirteen
Solid
It was the middle of the night again when Luke rolled, taking me over the top of him, settling me on the other side of the bed.
“Why do you do that?” I mumbled sleepily.
I was about to fall back to sleep, feeling his hand tag the back of my knee and pull it over his hip when he murmured, voice husky, “You’re on the wrong side of the bed.”
I cuddled into him, sliding into dreamland. “Then I’ll sleep on this side.”
I was so out of it, I didn’t realize all that my words said nor what it meant when, upon hearing them, Luke’s arms went tight around me, pulling me deep into his body.
“This side’s the wrong side too,” he told me.
That got my attention, because it made no sense.
I tilted my head back and looked at him in the dark. “What?”
“I can’t sleep on one side too long, the wound still gives me some pain.”
For some reason, I felt imaginary pain in my own belly at his words.
To hide my reaction, I stated the obvious, “Then just roll over.”