“So glad you could make it.” Oakley fist pumps who I assume is Andre and pulls him in for a hug.

Andre is maybe an inch or two shorter than Oakley and truly does live up to the hype appearance-wise. He reeks of Playboy, which is no surprise from what I’ve heard.

“Dude, I wouldn’t miss meeting the girl who managed to tame my best friend.” The two guys laugh together. I simply stand back and watch them interact with a small smile.

Oakley seems so at ease in his childhood home, surrounded by the people he loves most.

“Ava, this idiot is Andre,” he grins, his hand on my hip. “Andre, this is my girlfriend, Ava.”

Andre slowly looks me up and down before sending me a wink. “You forgot to mention that she’s a fucking smoke show.”

His way too blatant attempt at flirting rubs not only me, but Oakley the wrong way. He steps in front of me, using his body to shield me from Andre’s wandering eyes.

“No,” Oakley states simply, as overprotective as ever.

Andre’s chest shakes with silent laughter. “Woah. Stand down, doggy. I’m harmless, I promise.”

Oakley hesitantly moves back to his place beside me. With an arm grips my waist, Oakley presses me against him pointedly. You would think by now he would know he has no competition when it comes to other guys, much less his best friend.

“Damn, girl. Tell me, what’s the trick? I’m sure you can already imagine the line-up of girls that would love to know how you did it.” His words sound teasing, playful even, but unfortunately, this joke also doesn’t sit well with me.

“Andre,” Oakley growls as soon as we all sit down in the living room. He pulls me onto his lap, and I fall forcefully onto his thighs, gasping in surprise.

“Oakley,” Andre beams, flopping down on the only remaining seat beside Oakley. Does this guy have a death wish or something?

“What do you mean by line-ups of girls?” I ask, my voice low.

Andre’s face lights up as he clearly revels in his ability to get under Oakley’s skin.

“Oh, Oakley here has always been quite the hot commodity. Lucky for you, though, he never gave them any attention. Not many of them anyway,” he adds and offers Oakley his fist to bump. Oakley just glares at him.

My stomach flips as I get the overwhelming need to punch something. I’m not naive. Obviously, I know Oakley’s a catch and that he’s been with other people. It just freaking sucks hearing it come out of someone else’s mouth. Especially someone as close to him as Andre.

“Don’t listen to him, Ava. He wouldn’t understand the word relationship if it bit him in his dick,” Oakley insists, his grip on my waist tightening. I try to will the overwhelming bad thoughts away, to no avail, as we wait for dinner.

 

 

“That was delicious, Anne,” I say truthfully, patting my now bloated stomach happily.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Will you help me with the dishes?” Her eyes shine with happiness. I nod and start to collect the plates. Once all the dishes are gathered, we start washing. Anne fills the sink with warm soapy water, a light hum filling the peaceful space as I start loading the dishwasher.

“I’m so happy you could make it today,” Anne says kindly.

“I’m thrilled to be here. You cook a fabulous turkey.” I place a glass bowl on the top rack with a smile.

“You’re too sweet.” She drops a pair of gravy dishes into the sink. “I heard things didn’t exactly go to plan the other day?”

“Yeah, you can say that,” I shove a fork harder than necessary into the utensil holder.

“I hope I’m not overstepping here, but I wanted to say that if my son weren’t serious about you, he wouldn’t have asked you to come here today. Believe it or not, you’re the first girl he’s ever brought home to meet me.”

That spikes my interest.

“Really? Andre didn’t make it seem that way earlier.”

She gives her head a shake and clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Oh dear. Don’t listen to a word that comes out of his mouth. I love him like my own, but that young man never knows when to stop talking.”

“I figured as much. Andre seems to have a set of loose lips.”

Her soft, warm laugh fills the room. “I agree with you. I hope he didn’t end up getting that from me after spending so much time over here. His mother didn’t have anything to do with it. She’s as quiet as a mouse that one.”

Yeah, that doesn’t sound like Andre.

“My poor daughter has to deal with me embarrassing her all of the time. Is she mad at me? For earlier?” Anne asks, her hands submerged in the soapy water as she stares out the window above the sink.

“She’ll be fine. She’s tougher than she looks.”

Anne nods her head, her eyes still staring into space.

“Can I ask you something?” I mutter, my cheeks flushed. She turns to me with a gentle smile and pulls her hands out of the sink. “Do you ever worry about when he’ll be gone? It seems to be all I can think about since the other night.”

She raises a now dry hand to her neck and grasps a locket dangling on a chain in a tight fist. “Of course, I do. But I know he’ll always be here when we need him. My boy has been taking care of Gracie and me ever since his father passed away. It’s time he did something for himself.”

Time seems to slow as I drop the plate I’m holding. It shatters against the tiles as I stand frozen, my mind reeling. Anne calls my name and asks if I’m okay, but her voice sounds far away. I can barely hear her over the pounding of my heart. I nod my head numbly, a cold, bitter feeling sweeping over me.

I’m officially the worst girlfriend ever. How did I not know something like that? I figured his dad was maybe out of the picture by how

little he talks about him, but I wasn’t expecting this. He avoids the topic of his dad at all costs, always changing the subject or getting frustrated and stomping off.

Why didn’t he tell me? He knows everything about me. Every hidden secret, every memory I’ve tried so desperately to forget. I showed him everything about me and I get this in return? I get to find out his father passed away from someone else. I’ve known him for months, and he has never said a thing about his father’s passing?

“Ava! Baby, are you okay?”

I feel two hands on my shoulders as familiar tingles rush through me. I focus on the soft green eyes staring at me expectantly.

Oakley is crouched in front of me, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. I shrug him off and stumble out of the back door. I can hear his footsteps behind me as I lead the way outside. I come to a stop in the centre of the garden, barely noticing the damp grass wetting my socks.

“What’s wrong? What happened back there? Answer me, baby. Please. I’m freaking out,” he pleads, keeping a safe distance from me. “Did Andre say something? I swear to Go—”

“When did your dad die?” I whisper, both furious and sad. My hands are shaking, my heart’s still pounding furiously in my constricted chest. He draws in in a sharp breath and I stand still, waiting for him to answer me.

One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. Nothing.

I shiver as the harsh wind nips at the bare skin on my face, but I hold firm. Then again, standing out here freezing my ass off is pointless if he’s not going to talk to me. I turn to head back inside when he finally speaks again.

“When I was thirteen,” he chokes out. Silence fills the bitterly cold

air.

My questions die on my lips, yet my curiosity is unrelenting,

nagging me to ask him what happened. My heart aches, guilt starting to bare its ugly head, silently punishing me for being so selfish.

“Car crash,” he breathes, answering my unasked question. “He was hit by a drunk driver.”

I blow out a long, drawn-out sigh and observe him, noticing his harsh swallows and rapid blinking.

“I don’t want your sympathy, Ava. I’ve had enough sympathy to last a fucking lifetime,” he hisses, the harsh words seemingly directed more so

at the world than at me.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” I ask, my tone firm but gentle. “Of course, I was. But it’s not something I tell just anyone!” Oakley

grumbles, raising his voice slightly towards the end of his sentence. His eyes widen and he swears under his breath when he realizes what he said.

A mirthless laugh escapes past my lips before I can stop it. “Just anyone? Really?”

Oakley rolls his eyes, incensing me further. “You know that’s not what I meant, Ava.”

“I don’t think I do. I don’t seem to know anything about you,” I scoff, my voice rising with my temper. “You know, Adam warned me about this. I brushed him off because I thought that once you were done getting me to open up and tell you everything about my past, you would want to tell me about yours. I guess I was wrong. You’re such a hypocrite!”

“Of fucking course. Adam certainly didn’t waste any time before trying to turn you against me. Are you seriously so naive that you can’t see how obviously in love with you he is?” he snarls, throwing his arms into the air in exasperation.

“Don’t turn this on Adam. I don’t know what personal vendetta you have towards him but you need to knock it off,” I growl, making it clear that he has crossed a line.

“Are you serious? A personal vendetta? The guy is so desperate for your attention and you’re the only one who doesn’t see it. Why do you think he gives me dirty looks? Why else was he so upset that I was the one who took care of you that night you found out about your birth mother showing up? He looks at you the way only I should look at you.”

My jaw drops, stunned and speechless. I don’t want to believe what he’s saying, but deep down, it makes an unsettling kind of sense.

“This is about us, not Adam,” I manage to force out, my voice strained.

This is not how tonight was supposed to go. I avert my gaze as tears blur my vision, fighting to hold them back. I refuse to cry here, not like this. I need to go inside and ask Tyler if we can leave. We were supposed to stay, but I can’t. Not anymore. I need Morgan.

The Oakley I know isn’t here. He’s been replaced by a version of himself that’s aggressive and hot-headed. All I want to do is kick him in the groin. I turn on my heel and stride purposefully toward the door.

“Where are you going? We’re not finished here,” he snaps, frustration evident in his voice.

Welcome to the club.

“Home. Don’t follow me. We can talk once you get your head out of your ass.”

And with that, I walk away.

My words hang in the air as I step inside, holding my head high. I say my goodbyes, thank Anne for the dinner, and apologize for the embarrassing scene in her backyard.

As Tyler drives us home, I desperately try to silence the replay of our argument echoing in my mind.