Page 27 of Rough Ride with the Grumpy Cowboy
“Yes, I need to a...”
She doesn’t let me finish and instead shoves me. “Argh, you’re insufferable. You know what, you stay away from Ava. She already has enough on her plate without having to deal with you being a constant dick toward her,” she demands and turns to walk away.
“El, wait,” I call out.
“What?” she spits angrily.
“What did you mean by LA is the last place Ava should be?”
“That’s not my information to share. Maybe if you apologized to Ava, she’ll tell you,” she replies, her tone a bit softer.
“I have nothing to apologize for.”
My reply makes her mad all over again. “How about being a class A asshole to her from the moment she landed here when she’s done nothing but try to atone for the past?”
“She’s the one who has to apologize to me,” I assert.
“She would, if you gave her a chance, you dick. It’s all she’s been trying to do,” Ella retorts.
Maybe Ella is onto something. Maybe I overdid it and was too rude to Ava when all she’s been trying to do is make amends. But I don’t dare admit that to her.
When she realizes that I’m not going to say anything else, she storms off in a huff. Her words stick with me though, and I’m left believing that there’s more to this story than I’m aware of.
But I’m not in the right capacity to deal with it right now. I’m too tired—mentally, physically, and emotionally. I’ll talk to Ava tomorrow when I’m in a better frame of mind.
After showering and having dinner, I’m getting into bed when a thought pops into my mind. What if Ava decides to sleepwalk tonight as well? I have no idea what she’ll do when she finds the door locked.
Why do I care though? Of course I care—I’ve always cared even when I’m busy pretending not to.
For this reason, I find myself getting out of bed and leaving both my front and bedroom doors unlocked. I refrain from taking the pill that knocks me out because I want to hear her come in, that is, if she does.
True to my prediction, a few minutes past midnight, I hear my bedroom door creak open, followed by soft footsteps headed formy bed. I hold my breath as a soft body crawls in next to me. She seeks me out with her arms, and once she makes contact, she cuddles up to my side, sighs in contentment, and keeps sleeping.
Warning signs go off in my head, and I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I need to find out why she sleepwalks now when I know she didn’t before and what has her running from LA. After we figure that out, then we can dig up our past. For now, I tentatively wrap my arms around her, hoping to provide whatever comfort she’s seeking. She holds me tighter when I do so, and I find myself smiling and smelling her hair. It smells really good. Not the time, Zane!
After adjusting us to a more comfortable position, I drift off to sleep as well, leaving the unsaid for dawn.
11
AVA
So warm. So soft. So cuddly. So... breathing? Is that even possible? Since when do my pillows breathe and move on their own? Also, this is not their usual kind of warmth—the one where I’ve laid on them for too long and now need to be flipped over. This is the kind of warmth that feels like I’m sleeping with a hot water bottle wrapped around the softest blanket.
They smell different too, like spice and leather mixed with the scent of the earth after a soft rain. It’s a new scent, but I like it and find my nose seeking more of it.
My pillows move, and I realize that they not only move from under me—they move over me as well. That’s weird. Wait... My eyes shoot open when I realize these are not my pillows at all. Oh shit, not again!
Oh yes, again, Ava Noa. What the hell were you thinking?
That’s the problem though—I wasn’t thinking. It’s called sleepwalking for a reason; I have no control over what I do when I sleep.
Kill me now.
Once again, I find myself in the same position I was in yesterday morning—in Zane’s cabin, his bed, and arms.
Thankfully, this morning I wake up earlier than him, which gives me the perfect opportunity to sneak out before he wakes up and gives me grief for once again being in his personal space.
Why do I keep doing this to myself? It’s like I’m a sucker for pain and punishment.
