Page 89 of Call You Mine
Ava and Emerson dance together in the tight space just infront of me, and while I probably don’t come across as outwardly intimidating as Jack to the people around us, I stay alert in case anyone doesn’t respect their space.
Both Ava and Emerson can handle themselves, Rumi too—there’s no doubt about that. But I can’t help wanting to be that extra layer of protection, especially for Ava.
Emerson twirls Ava around, and she ends up back right in front of me, but much closer than before. At the beginning of the concert, there were a few inches. Now, all it would take is an exhale to feel her against me.
Ava turns over her shoulder, her eyes flicking up for half a second, catching mine in the dim lights, and something in her smile shifts.
Not innocent. Not entirely.
Just enough to make my pulse kick harder, and my hands curl tighter at my sides, because if she keeps looking at me like that, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.
“They’re amazing!” Rumi exclaims, the five of us finding a spot on the edge of the crowd while we wait for Cross My Heart to come on.
“I told Liam how I really think they could definitely blow up like Cross My Heart did,” Emerson adds from where she leans against the bar, waiting for the drinks and the water for Ava she ordered.
It wasn’t until I learned about her mom that I realized I’ve never seen Ava with alcohol herself, but she’s always expressed that being around people drinking doesn’t bother her, as long as they can handle their liquor.
“I honestly can’t believe a band as big as Cross My Heart used to play at the bar right next door to Hey Honey’s? Andthatyouused to serve them all the time,” Rumi says, bumping her hip into Ava’s.
“That was a long time ago,” Ava says as she uses both hands to fan her face. Her cheeks are flushed from dancing around in the middle of the crowd, and it sends a kick of desire right to my stomach, reminding me of all the other times her cheeks were flushed like that—it’s been too long since I’ve seen them that way, not since that night over a month ago.
“You used to work at Lenny’s?” I ask Ava, surprised she’s never mentioned it.
She nods. “The drummer used to work there before I did, and he’s best friends with my bosses, Luke and Annie. They own Hey Honey’s and actually used to work at Lenny’s, too.”
“And the drummer is married to the lead singer’s little sister,” Emerson adds as the bartender slides over our drinks to her. “She does all the graphic design for Hey Honey’s.”
“Damn,” I reply, surprised by this snippet about Ava that I didn’t know—and about the family affair among the employees of Lenny’s and Hey Honey’s.
Ava waves her hands in front of her. “But it was a long time ago. I hadn’t even met Rumi yet.”
“And Jett was still in the picture,” Rumi says, shivering in disgust at the mention of whoeverJettis.
Emerson makes a gagging sound as she hands Rumi her drink and Ava her water. “I never even met your asshole of an ex, and his namestillmakes me want to puke.”
I feel my insides twist at the mention of Ava’s ex, but I try to ignore it. She’s never mentioned any of her exes, and why would she? It’s not like we’ve ever needed to.
I’ve learned everything I know about Ava through observing her, obsessing over her, and saving any and all traces of information about her that I can.
Ava laughs at Emerson’s comment, but I see the way her body slightly stiffens.
I don’t like that reaction.
“Anyway,” Emerson offers, and I think she picked up Ava’s discomfort, too. The two exchange a glance, but I can’t really decipher what it is. It’s like they have a whole conversation with their eyes before Emerson turns to grab a couple of beer cans, handing one to me and one to Jack before picking up the third one still sitting on the bar. She holds it up in the middle of all of us. “To this tripactuallymaking it out of the group chat.” We all hold up our drinks, tapping them together, the subject officially changing.
I look over at Ava, a soft curl to her lips, and I wish I knew something I could say or do to see what her full smile looks like—I can only imagine how beautiful it is. I picture it relaxed and carefree—the same way she looks when she would let herself let go during those stolen nights of ours.
“Thanks for getting us these tickets,” Rumi says to Emerson after we all take a sip of our respective drinks. She turns to Ava. “And thanks for being the one to book the hotel and find the flights.” Rumi’s cheeks are rosy as she smiles at Ava, reaching for her hand. “I honestly don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Good thing you’ll never have to know,” Ava replies, squeezing Rumi’s hand before letting it go. She tries to hide the emotion in her voice with the way she keeps it light, but I still catch it.
Clearing her throat, Ava announces that she’s going to use the bathroom before Cross My Heart comes on. Emerson and Rumi tag along, leaving me and Jack on our own. We watch them join the long, winding line, and I figure it will be a little while until they’re back.
I handle most of the conversation, the norm when it comes to Jack and me. We talk about the bands and their songs, some of the spots we found on the Strip, and other random shit. When I glance over my shoulder, I see the girls havefinally made it inside the bathroom, the line moving quicker than I thought it would.
We’re both agreeing how nice the weather is here in Las Vegas compared to back home when I notice a small container sitting on the bar, next to a stack of cardboard coasters. Squinting my eyes, I make out the familiar little square. Reaching over, I pull out one of the boxes of matches, the name of the concert venue printed across the top.
Sliding it into my pocket, I wonder if Ava noticed them, maybe grabbed one for her collection. I probably would’ve noticed if she did—but it doesn’t matter.
