Page 8 of The Comeback

CHAPTER 6

AVA

I push the cup of tea across the counter, shaking my head at the way Gabriella is laughing. “I was terrified,” I protest, leaning my hip against the counter. “He’s huge. He’s always been so big.” Never mind that Jett’s size used to make me feel so safe. He walked me everywhere on campus the short months we were together at UNR, whenever he could, especially in the evenings. I never worried with him around.

Gabriella keeps laughing. “Colby has fifty pounds on him, Ava. And most the guys on the team are bigger. They call Jett Little Bruh on a regular basis.”

Jealousy slithers through me that Gabriella has the type of relationship I should have. I would be friends with all these guys too. Laughing when they call him the little one. I slap the jealousy away. Jett might not be where he is now if I hadn’t left.

“Okay.” I point my mug at Gabriella. “Imagine if Colby had been bearing down on you in the dark and you didn’t know it was Colby. Of course I dialed 911.”

Gabriella shrugs and brings her own mug to her lips. “Colby said an officer watched Jett’s place half the night until he called the chief,” she says after taking a sip.

“Oh my gosh.” I put a hand to my face. I reassured the officer that I was totally safe, that I knew Jett would never hurt me, it was all a mistake, but I suspect he thought Jett and I were having a domestic dispute.

“Did you know this was his sister-in-law’s place?” I ask, glaring at Gabriella.

“Of course.” She laughs again. “Jett was years ago, chica. When you saw him, I knew it would be awkward, but I expected it to be under my careful supervision.” She fakes a cringe and gathers her thick black hair into a bun on top of her head, securing it with two ponytail holders to keep it in place. We have a running joke between us about how I wish mine was as thick as hers and how she wishes hers was more manageable like mine.

“You didn’t tell me he’s one of Colby’s groomsmen.” I’m not ready to let her off the hook. I met Gabriella after moving back to Houston after mine and Jett’s one disastrous semester together in Reno. Gabriella and I worked at a little restaurant her aunt and uncle owned close to the University of Houston, and when we closed together, the story of Jett had come spilling out. On nights we wiped down tables and mopped the floors I told her everything from my enormous crush on him for months before he asked me out to the glorious feeling of the night he asked me to marry him. I feel like she’s the only person who understood why I sacrificed my four-year relationship with Jett and left to keep him from quitting football for me. She hoped with me, night after night, that Jett would have a change of heart and call or text or anything.

Gabriella scoffs. “That’s in the stuff I sent you right after you agreed to do the wedding. That’s your own fault.”

I don’t answer. She’s not wrong, but my assistant handled those details, putting them into my spreadsheet and making it easy for me to miss Jett’s name in the wedding party. Given how things stand now, I’m grateful I talked Gabriella out of making me a bridesmaid. I told her I couldn’t do that and plan the wedding. Imagine if I had to walk down the aisle with Jett, how painful and awkward that would be.

“Jett still hates me. That much was very clear last night. You should have thought about that when you booked me a place to stay at his sister’s.” I stare her down, making sure she feels all the discomfort I have since the night before.

“Hate is strong,” Gabriella says.

“He was angry,” I disagree. “I saw it in his face.” It hurt, like we had gone right back to the night I left and the moment he realized he couldn’t talk me out of it, when his pep talks didn’t work and his pleading didn’t seem to move me. (Oh, it did. He’d never know how close I was to staying.) Hurt and anger made his face stone. He turned away and stalked to his bedroom, refusing to watch me leave.

“Nobody stays this mad at an ex for this long,” Gabriella says shrewdly, taking a long sip of her tea and not looking at me.

“Oh no. No, no, no.” I put my own tea down and shake my head vigorously. “Don’t do that. Promise me you didn’t book me in Jenna’s place because you think you’re going to put me and Jett back together or something.”

She has the nerve to laugh. “No. Cross my heart. There were very few people willing to give up their vacation rentals for two months, and Jenna was. And willing to give me a deal because we’re saving her fee money, and I’m paying her part of that directly in the bonus we agreed on.” She puts down her mug and looks at me seriously. “Manita, I second-guessed whether that was the right place for you to stay, but Jenna was so intent. How could I turn her down?”

“By telling her who was really renting it.” I raise my eyebrows. Gabriella always uses the manita thing on me when she’s trying to sweet-talk me. It’s a term of endearment for the closest of friends and she might as well be batting her eyelashes and giving me doe eyes.

“Que sea.” She waves her hand at me. I have yet to ruffle her feathers. It’s what will make her an excellent senator someday.

I throw that at her now. “You’re such a politician.”

She beams. “Thank you.”

It makes me laugh, and I pull the custom planner I made for myself for Gabriella’s wedding, flipping to my master to-do list. I chose a planner style with removeable pages, and I carefully pull out two of the calendar pages for the next two months to set them out as well. It’s a high-level look at the things we need to get done. Gabriella’s smile grows as she watches me flip open another smaller notebook where I’ve jotted down items we need to discuss today.

“Stop it,” I mutter. I love event planning, the organizing and arranging, but unfortunately I’m scatterbrained as well. I write down everything and keep an electronic planner. Gabriella’s wedding is the biggest event I’ve done in a while, and I cannot afford for anything to go wrong. People online are already second-guessing my ability to plan this wedding, and if anything bad happens, this time it will ruin my career for sure. Besides, I need it to be perfect so I can prove to myself it wasn’t a mistake to agree to plan something this big again.

Gabriella puts her hand over mine, tilting her head at me. “Hey. Are you okay? I know that must have been rough seeing him, and I was laughing about it like?—”

“No, no.” I squeeze her hand and pull it away from the papers. “I’m fine. Really. Just thinking about how I want this to be amazing for you.”

“I talked you into this for a reason,” Gabriella says, sitting back and grinning. “You’re the best.” She arches her eyebrows at me, not voicing that she wants more from me than just planning this wedding, a request I’ve flatly refused to give in on. I shake my head and she shrugs. “Before we get into that, I have a favor.”

“It better not be something to do with Jett.” I point my pen at her warningly.

“It’s not.” She holds her hands up in surrender. “I know we already did the engagement party, and it was great, but I really need to use the wedding for every event possible. The governor is going to be in town next week, and he’s a huge Pumas fan. If we can put a dinner party together or something, I could get him there, and that’d be huge.”

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