Page 26 of Why Not Now?

Chapter 9

Ava

OntheListofDumb Mistakes Ava’s Made in Her Life, this might just hit number one. And yet, when I wake in the middle of the night—after the most amazing sex I’ve had since the last time Derek and I had sex—I lay still for a moment, soaking in the sensation of him wrapped around me, the scent of amber and cardamom that fills me with a sense of security and calm.

I know how ridiculous it sounds to say two virgins had better sex than any other interaction I’ve had since. But it’s true. Not because we had any clue what made sex good, but because of how intent he’d always been to make me feel safe and loved. And once he figured out how, he’d always make me come first.

I look at him, so relaxed in sleep, his dark lashes resting against his cheek, his curls falling over his forehead, and my heart squeezes. I could so easily fall in love with this man again, but what would that lead to? More heartache?

A tear traces down my cheek, landing on the pillow. Then I take a deep breath, breathing in the scent ofRefugeone more time, and carefully untangle myself from his embrace. I slip from bed and gather my leggings and underwear from where we’d chucked them earlier.

I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. But I’m always tired on Thursday nights after working two jobs two days in a row. That, combined with the orgasms, plus the scent that makes me feel at ease, and I hadn’t been able to stop my descent into a restful sleep.

I creep down the stairs, pulling my clothes on as I walk. When I reach the bottom, I’m in his living room, where Abyss looks up from the couch, her yellow eyes bright and accusatory in the darkness.

“I have to go,” I tell her. “It was stupid of me to come. We’re supposed to be friends, not sleeping together.” God, I’ve probably ruined everything already. After less than a week.

I find my shirt where we’d left it by the front door, embarrassed he’d seen me in my mustard yellow work shirt—not that I’d worn it for long. After I’m dressed, I pull my phone out of my purse—also discarded on the floor when I’d come in—and check to make sure I haven’t missed any calls or texts from Lacey. It’s 1am now. I let out a sigh of relief when I see there’s nothing. I shouldn’t have been so careless. What if something had happened? Yes, she’d been asleep before I’d even left work, but still.

I pick up Derek’s keys from the table and let myself out, locking the door behind me and dropping the keys back through the mail slot. I go out to my car and sit in the driver’s seat for a while without putting the key in the ignition.

He called me sweetheart again.

When we first started dating, he’d gone through a dozen cutesy nicknames I hated. We laughed about them all. Honey, cupcake, snookums, baby, pookie, peaches. Some were better than others. Then one day, he kissed my forehead and said, “Sweetheart, I’ll call you whatever you want. Even if it’s just Ava.”

I rub absently at my chest as I start my car. Thankfully, there are no other vehicles on the road at this time of night, so I keep replaying the last few hours in my head as I drive home.

I don’t remember him being so skilled with his tongue before. He’d always been attentive and determined to ensure I had as much fun with sex as he did, something I’d been missing a lot over the past several years, often needing to take control of the situation myself so I would at least get off once. Back then, we’d just been learning about sex. Derek had certainly taken some additional lessons.

The jealousy that thought sparks is surprising. Especially considering I haven’t exactly been chaste since we broke up.

I park in the back and bring my things into my bedroom before going upstairs to check on Lacey. She’s fast asleep and has kicked off all her blankets. I pull them around her, tucking her in before returning to my room. I curl up under my blankets, remembering Derek’s hands, his mouth, his tongue. God. He knows what he’s doing.

After tossing and turning for half an hour, I reach into my bedside table drawer and withdraw a small bottle. I spin it in my hands, noting the picture of the fortress on the label. I open the bottle, letting the sweet and spicy scent escape, spilling a single drop on my pillow before replacing the lid and putting it away.

Finally, with the smell of amber and cardamom easing my roiling emotions, I fall into a restless sleep, dreams plagued with memories, some from last night, some from years ago, blending together until I can’t remember which is which. When my alarm goes off at 5:30, my head is pounding, and my eyes feel gritty. I drag myself up and into a scalding shower that doesn’t wake me up as much as I hope it will. Thankfully, Lacey is already awake and has coffee ready when I get upstairs.

“Hey,” she says, pausing in her swift consumption of cereal. “I need you to sign something.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and blink them open, picking up the paper while I pour a cup of coffee. “What’s this?” I ask, assuming it’s some kind of permission form.

“Out late last night?” Lacey asks, dragging my attention back to her.

I shouldn’t have gone to Derek’s. My sleep has been completely thrown off and I’m struggling to sort through my thoughts, my brain sluggish.

“Yeah. I went out after work for a couple hours.”

Lacey smirks. “Was he good?”

I send her a withering glance. We’ve had a lot of talks about sex, and she knows I go out to meet guys now and then. Usually on nights when she’s staying with her friend. My hope with those talks is she decides to wait to have sex until she’s older, but I also know some of her friends are already doing it.

“None of your business,” I tell her, because as much as I want her to talk to me about these things, she doesn’t need to know the details of my own sex life.

“That means he was either very good or very bad. He wouldn’t happen to be the same guy who’s taking you out after work tonight, is he?”

I try to focus on the paper she’s given me, but between my blurry vision from lack of sleep and the memories of last night still distracting me, I can’t see it. “None of your business,” I repeat.

She gasps. “He is! Ava, are you dating someone? For real?”

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