Page 17 of Grind
A form movesbehind the counter. There’s a sinking feeling in my gut and a sense of disappointment that washes over me as I take in the woman, older and frumpy with gray hair. Not my Ava.
MyAva?
I move toward the counter,jaw tight and frustration mounting.
At least Ican ask when Ava works. Maybe get a phone number. But I'm not more than a few steps inside the diner when a familiar voice calls out softly from a corner booth.
"Connor?"
Just the sound of her voice sends a chill down my spine. It’s a sound that some part of me has been aching to hear for days.
Seeingher knocks one kind of tension out of me, and kicks another one into gear. She sits in a huge booth alone, a thick book and note paper spread out before her. A few seconds ago she was clearly engrossed in something important. Her dark glossy hair is caught up in a ponytail, and even though she's wearing a ridiculous diner uniform that could have been dragged out of the 1950s, she's absolutely gorgeous.
Jesus,why did I wait this long?
She quickly slidesout of the booth, gracefully rising to her feet. She heads in my direction, a concerned look marring her beautiful features.
"Hey, is everything okay?"
Before I can respond,she flushes. Hot pink starts at the top of her collar and quickly creeps to her cheeks. For a second, all I can think is how much I like seeing her with a flush on her cheeks. How I could do other things to make her flush.
"Oh my God,your jersey. I washed that and was absolutely going to return it," she rushes on.
"I am not hereabout a goddamn shirt." The frustration from the last week, the intensity of the physical reaction I'm feeling toward her, is all wrapped up in my voice. It sounds harsh.
She takes a quick step back,shock momentarily registering on her face, but it’s gone fast. The practiced mask drops down, and I hate myself instantly for sparking that. Shaking my head, I run a hand across my jaw. Even though I just shaved a few hours ago, bristles already stab at my fingers.
Moments pass.What the hell was I thinking?
I take a deep breath.Let’s try this again.
"Hi, Ava," I say. The thrill of being close to her takes hold, and a genuine smile lights my face. God, she must think I’m such a creep, grinning like a jackass after snapping at her. My smile drops. “I’m sorry,” I say. "Let’s start over. I'm not here about the shirt, I promise. Actually, I came here to see you and see how you’re doing," That’s not what I expected to say; usually I’d be prepared with something charming or witty. Definitely not something that honest or straightforward. Or pathetic? I hope it doesn’t sound that way.
A few terrifyingseconds pass before her lips curve into a small smile. Seeing her warm to me is all the encouragement I need, and the dopey grin returns to my face.
"I’mon break for another ten minutes," she glances at the clock. "Join me?"
Sitting down across from her,I try not to look too closely at how battered the book is. At the dark circles under her eyes. My hands clench, as I fight just to focus on her face.
"How are you?"Again my voice is more intense than I intended. But I have to know.
Even though the bruises on her face and wrist are healed, it’s hard to keep focused on her now. Here. All I can see for a second is her outside the club, the panic I’d felt as I fought to get to her. The fear that had risen in my throat like bile as her face had melted – for just a second – into the face of someone else I’d fought to protect and failed.
I won’t fail again.
"I’m fine,"she says quickly.
Our eyes meet,and damn it if my breath doesn't catch when those huge green eyes widen. Our chemistry is unbelievable. My body already has some ideas for what it would like to do.
Impulsively,I reach out and catch her hand in mine. It’s small, but strong. She has calluses from her work, and her nails aren't manicured. Somehow, the realness of that adds another layer to her appeal. Though everything in me wants to drag her out of this place and never let her come back.
"Tell me,"I say intently. Keeping my voice low and cool, inviting her to confide in me. "That little sh— Any problems from Stacy?"
She instantly tenses up,color draining from her face and her demeanor shifting back to anxious. Just at the mention of his name. When I get my hands on him, I am going to methodically make him regret every negative thought or action that he ever directed at this woman.
"It’s been fine.The usual, but nothing like the other night. Thank you again, for everything…" She glances away almost shyly. But then she shows a flash, hint of the passion and independence that I sense just beneath the surface.
She cutsher eyes back to me and bites her lip just a little. At first it looks like a totally innocent gesture, but her eyes have a certain sparkle when they meet mine. Jesus. My cock hardens as if on command. There are depths here I’m only beginning to understand.
