Page 76 of You're So Vine
“Take care, Ava,” chorus Shelby and Jordan.
“Call me,” says Nate, doing his best not to make it sound like an order.
I turn to Jackson, expecting one of his usual cheerful remarks. But he’s staring up at Cam, who, reluctantly I can tell, is returning his gaze.
“Anything you want me to pass on to Mom … to Lee?” Jackson asks him.
He’s not smiling. His tone has more than a hint of challenge. What’s going on here?
“Nope,” says Cam.
His tone is like a shove in the chest. Seems the big ol’ fight might not include me.
But turns out I’m the only witness. Jordan and Shelby are yakking away with Nate caught between them (which he secretly loves). And here’s a ruffled Danny back with beers, followed by an amused Chiara. Jackson lets his gaze linger on Cam for a beat and then he turns away to greet Danny, and rib him about being a city slicker. The moment passes.
Cam takes hold of my arm, not hard but harder than usual, and steers me away. We get in the truck and Cam starts it up with a roar. He’s furious and I’ve no idea why. And you know what? Right now, I don’t give a shit. I’m tired, I’m scared, and I’m fed up with Lee Armstrong still pushing Cam’s buttons. Cam promised to be here for me but part of him is still absent, far away with her.
I want to thump him on the arm. I want to yell at him. But, of course, I do the worst thing ever. I start bawling my eyes out.
ChapterTwenty-Four
CAM
Shit, Ava’s crying.
I pull the truck over to the side of the road, shut off the engine. Ava’s wiping her eyes furiously, and I can’t tell whether she’s crying because she’s angry or angry because she’s crying. I hesitate. Should I hug her or leave her alone? And then I berate myself. I’m doing it again, running from emotions. Get a grip, Hollander. You aren’t the one hurting here.
“Hey,” I say softly. “What’s up?”
“Everything!”she replies, her voice hiccuping with sobs.
Not much to go on. But I can’t let her do all the work.
“You’re worried about the MRI results?”
She nods a little. Then covers her face with both hands and shakes her head.
Okay, Hollander. Think.What else could she be upset about?
Right…
“Me and Jackson,” I say. “Yeah, that was … not cool.” I add, “Sorry,” even though what I want to say is, “He started it!”
But it seems I’ve struck out on that guess, too. Ava’s still shaking her head. Slowly now, like she can’t believe I’m being such an idiot. What else? I hardly said two words to anyone all evening. Chiara asked me how things were going with Ava, and I was honest about that. Maybe I could have said more but that’s not my style. It’s why I hardly responded to Jerkson’s parting shot, either, that stupid pointed question about—
Ah, fuck…
I can see how Ava might think that clash was all about Lee. It wasn’t. It was about Jerkson getting up in my face, and for no reason other than he enjoys being an annoying shitheel. He only ever tries to wind me up when there’s a crowd of friendlies to keep him safe and laugh at his shitheel jokes.
“Jerkson is a fucking idiot,” I say without thinking.
While the red mist has been rising in front of my my eyes, Ava’s calmed herself down.
“He asked you that question for a reason,” she says, with only the hint of a hiccup. “And you got all touchy for a reason. And all I can think is there’s something moreyou’re not telling me about Lee frigging Armstrong.”
Though it doesn’t feel that way, it’s a fair accusation. Thing is, being honest will highlight further examples of my least-praiseworthy behavior. I haven’t told Ava how I acted after I tried to kiss Lee. But if I don’t, this answer won’t make sense.
“Jerk— Jackson has always had issues about my friendship with Lee,” I say.
