Page 303 of Secret Shifters Next Door

EIGHTEEN

AVA

The night before had not gone as anticipated. I paced around my house, trying not to relive every single moment of what happened. The dinner, the conversation. The kiss. That was what really kept replaying in my head on a loop. The softness of his lips pressed against mine, the hungry way his hand had clutched my thigh. The pleasant ache that had suddenly erupted between my legs.

Then, as though I’d been snapped out of a dream, I’d pulled away and pushed Blayne back. My mind swirled in a tailspin. So many questions, so much to think about.

“You’ve gotta go,” I’d said.

Blayne, looking both surprised and understanding, nodded and disentangled from me. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

There’d been guilt mixed with confusion on his face. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d been thinking. Thoughts of Liam? Annoyance at himself for succumbing to some impulse he didn’t really mean? Who knew.

He’d left in a hurry, barely even managing to say goodbye and thank me for dinner as he went out the front door. I’d spent the next six hours sitting on my couch, trying to wrap my headaround it. Things had been going well. Then all of a sudden, it had gone off into some weird thing I didn’t even understand.

I’d passed out on the couch around two in the morning, and woke again at seven. I was groggy, irritable, and confused. It took five minutes after waking up to make sure it hadn’t all been a dream. Once I realized it had really happened, I spent the next ten minutes freaking out all over again. What would it mean for our friendship? It was like Liam’s ghost was haunting my home. As if he’d been standing in the corner the night before and had judged us by our actions. For some reason, my life seemed to hinge on the man even ten years after he’d died.

By ten that morning, I was on the verge of a panic attack. I needed to vent. To anyone. I couldn’t go to my dad or uncles—they were men. They’d try to fix the problem. I didn’t need someone to fix the problem; I needed someone to talk to who would understand and give me advice. The only person I really knew who fit that bill was April.

Picking up my phone to call her, I said a little prayer. I really hoped Blayne wouldn’t be around her. That was all I needed—to call my friend to talk about a guy who was standing right next to her.

“Hello, Ava,” April answered.

“Hey, yeah it’s me. What’s up?”

“Not much. I’m over at Harley’s. I’m helping her get all the kids packed for their little getaway.”

In my mental freak-out about kissing Blayne, I’d almost forgotten about the threat of the hunters. I put a hand to my forehead and chastised myself for being selfish. I was calling April at a time when she and most of her friends were in mortal danger. I was already on the phone, though.

“The beach trip? To hide out? I think I heard some chatter about that,” I said.

“Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. Steff tried to get me out of here, but I told him I’d be damned if I left him here to fight alone. It's different with Harley and Celina. Harley has the kids to think about, and Celina’s pregnant. I agree they need to get out of here, but me? No. I’m in it till the end.” There was a little pause before she went on. “I get the feeling that you called for something other than to check in on me. What’s on your mind, Ava?”

I took a deep, cleansing breath and pushed forward. I told her about meeting Blayne at the store, and how he’d invited himself over for dinner. My story about dinner ended with the kiss, and then how I’d basically tossed him out of my house and the welling of guilt and shame I felt about the whole thing. By the time I was done, I felt a bit better, but also like a wrung-out and emotional mess. Thank God I wasn’t crying by the end. That would have been even more embarrassing.

When April spoke, it was with empathy and compassion, which she must have known I needed. “I see how that could be rough. How are you right now, though?”

I giggled like an idiot, barely managing to choke it back. “I feel like shit. Like my dead boyfriend hates me. Like I don’t know what to do with myself. Like maybe I want Blayne, and at the same time, don’t want anything to do with him. God, I think I’m going crazy.”

“Ava, do you want my honest opinion?”

“Of course. I need some kind of opinion.”

“It might sound a bit harsh, though.”

I laughed again. “Lay it on me. Maybe I need some harshness.”

“Okay. I think you’ve got to let go of Liam. He’s been a shadow hanging over you for ten years. Have you had a single serious relationship since he died?”

I ran my tongue over my teeth as I thought. There’d obviously been other guys. Dates here and there. A few boyfriends. Nothing serious. Relationships that only lasted a month or two. A one-night stand with a camera operator after the wrap party on that one sci-fi movie I worked on. But now that April asked, I realized I hadn’t let a man get close to me since Liam’s death.

April must have taken my silence as an affirmative answer to her question. “Liam’s dead, babe,” she said. “Yes, you loved him. But he’s dead. You’re alive. You deserve to live your life on your own terms, not according to some weird rules you think a dead man might or might not have wanted you to follow. Right? Or am I overthinking this?”

“No. You’re right,” I whispered.

“If there is even theslimmestchance there could be something there with Blayne, then why not pursue it? How can there be anything wrong with that? I think if Liam were able to speak to you, he’d be happy that the two people he cared about the most could find happiness with each other.”

My eyes burned and my lower lip quivered. “You’re probably right.”

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