Page 14 of Ava After Midnight

“The ring?” The words taste bitter. “Or the man who put it there?”

“Both. Neither.” She presses her forehead to mine, conflicted. “I don’t know anymore. You make me forget everything I’m supposed to want.”

“Maybe because you never wanted it in the first place.”

The truth hangs between us like smoke.

“Tell me something real, Ava. Not what your family expects, not what society demands. What doyouwant?”

“I want…” She trembles like a string about to snap. “I want to burn so bright the whole city has to look away. Even if it’s just once.”

“Then let me show you.” I stand, lifting her with me. Water cascades off our bodies as I step out of the hot tub. “But not like this. Not rushed and guilty in borrowed water.”

“Such a gentleman,” she teases, but I see the relief in her eyes.

“Only when it matters,mi estrella.” I wrap her in a plush towel, my fingers tracing loose shapes following her freckles on her shoulders. “And you? You matter like the first note of every song ever written—essential, irreplaceable, the beginning of everything.”

Ava’s face reddens as I pile compliments on top of her. The deep red flush compliments the undertones to her skin, and it makes her own deep brown eyes feel warmer. I’m just happy she’s enjoying herself as much as I am so far.

“Get changed,” I tell her, my voice rougher than intended. “It’s time you show me who you really are.”

Her eyebrow arches. “Through clothes?”

“Through music.” I catch the towel she throws at my head. I peek out from behind it, stealing a glance at her while she walks into the bedroom. I call to her: “Your playlist. The songs that make you feel everything you hide from him.”

***

Ten minutes later, she emerges—barefaced, wrapped hair, drowning in oversized sweats that somehow still look sinful. I scan her lower half, trying to determine what about it still makes me so hungry for her, even in simple loungewear. She’s never looked more dangerous to my sanity.

“Fair warning,” she says, pulling up her phone. My eyes lift to meet hers again. “I don’t believe in musical boundaries.”

The first notes of SZA fill the room, and Ava moves like she’s possessed by the rhythm—not performing, just existing in pure sound.

“See something you like?” she teases, catching me staring.

“I see everything I can’t have.” The honesty surprises us both. “Show me more.”

She flips through genres like moods—Beyoncé, The Weeknd, Arctic Monkeys—each artist unraveling another layer of her. I’m addicted to every revelation. As I watch her, I envision her as the center of a scene with each song as the soundtrack. Going from upbeat to slow and deliberately seductive, both in front of me and in my mind, makes the growing erection more difficult to ignore. I’m grateful I tugged my jeans back on while she was in her room.

“This one,” she says as Bad Bunny starts, “makes me want tosin.”

“You don’t need music for that,princesa.” I pull her to me, unable to resist. “Tu existencia es mi perdición, mi cielo—your very existence is my sweetest downfall. Every breath you take is a revolution against ordinary life.”

“Takes one to know one.” Her fingers brush my collarbone, tracing the ink there. “What’s your story, dangerous stranger?”

“Nothing good.” But I guide her hips anyway, teaching her body the rhythm of my blood. "Nothing safe."

“Safe is overrated.” She presses closer, every curve a temptation. The way her lips move as she speaks puts me in a trance. “Safe never made anyone feel alive.”

My hands span her waist, and for a moment we’re not dancing so much as foreplay with clothes on. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Maybe I want to burn. That is what I told you before, after all.”

I spin her suddenly, pulling her back against my chest. My lips brush her ear. “I’ve got demons, Ava.”

“Good.” She reaches up behind her and her fingers tangle in my hair. “My angels haven’t done me any favors lately.”

Her playlist shifts to something darker, heavier. Her hips roll back against me, and my control splinters.

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