Page 25 of Insta-Love

TWELVE

Bowen

My head’s no clearer when it comes to Ava than it was when I left the hospital by the time I kill the engine in my driveway. The night’s taken over, the street shrouded in darkness as I cross the front lawn to her house.

Her parents’ house. Still want to know the story behind that, even if she won’t tell me.

My hand’s barely to the door before her mother pulls it open, a dubious frown on her face.

“Hi.” I hold my hand out. “Bowen, from next door.”

“I know.” She gestures for me to come in. “Ava said you were on the way.”

I hesitate in the entrance hall, unsure where she wants me while we do this. “I have a list.” Her mum nods as she waits on me to pull it up on my phone.

“Hi. Bowen, was it?” What I assume is her dad steps out of the kitchen, arm extended. “Terry.”

“Nice to meet you.” I shake his hand, lips firm in a tight smile.

He seems as awkward as I am, simply going through the motions.

“Thank you for helping,” he says curtly. “It’s appreciated.”

“Just did what anyone would,” I say, passing my phone to Ava’s mum.

“I’ll be right back.” She darts off with the list in hand, the same look of steely determination her daughter wears in her eye.

Can see where that came from.

“How is she?” Terry asks. “Lily?”

“She’s okay. Has a cast on her leg, and they’ve taken her up to her ward now.”

“Tough cookie, that kid.”

“She is.”

“Comes naturally with her start in life, I guess.” He moves back to the kitchen, leaving me to follow if I want to carry on polite conversation and not stand at the door like a weirdo.

“What makes you say that?”

He holds a coffee mug up for me.

“No. Thank you.”

“Lily was born premature,” he says as he sets the mug down for himself. “Spent a while in the hospital before Ava could bring her home.”

“Must have been hard.”

He nods as he spoons the granules in. “Only one of many things our girl had to deal with at the time, but that’s her story to tell.” He pours the hot water, forgoing any milk.

Great. If the guy has his coffee black, then I can guarantee he’s a hardass everywhere else as well. My assumptions are proved right when he turns with his freshly stirred brew and narrows his gaze on me, arse leant against the counter as he takes a casual sip.

“Must have a good job there, Bowen, if you have a car like that.”

Fuck me. “It pays well, yeah.”

“Mind if I ask what you do?”

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