Page 10 of Call You Mine
No response.
Just want to make sure you got home safe. You left pretty late
I’m here if youneed anything
I regretted sending that last one the second I sent it.
It only took the first month of me and Ava fooling around to learn that the more I pulled, the more she pushed away.
My sneakers pound the running belt as I finish up my fifth mile. I only planned on doing five today, but my thoughts of Ava have my body buzzing.
The music in my headphones is already blasting as loud as it goes, my lungs burning with every step, but it doesn’t distract me from my thoughts.
Who was she on the phone with?
What did they say to piss her off so much?
In these past eight months of knowing Ava, I’ve only seen her mad a few times. Last night, though, she looked lethal—like she was ready to kill someone.
Sweat trickles down my bare chest, my T-shirt discarded and forgotten on the floor of my home gym.
My phone buzzes, and I grab onto the handles of the treadmill to avoid tripping and falling flat on my face.
Balancing on each side of the belt as it quickly rolls beneath me, I bring my phone to my face, my heart in my throat.
I need help finding valentines.
Fucking Jack.
My grumpy, man-of-very-little-words friend and coworker texts me maybe once a week, and he just so happens to reach out today of all days, while I’m waiting for a notification like my life depends on it.
I thought you already got Rumi and Evee their Valentine’s Day gifts
I did.
I roll my eyes at the response. I don’t know how hisgirlfriend handles Jack’s inability to string more than a few words together. Their daughter isn’t even two yet, and she says more words than he does.
Then why do you need valentines?
Are you talking about cards or gifts or what?
And for who?
Rumi said Ava needs twenty-two of them.
I pull the emergency cord to turn the treadmill off, taking the basement stairs two at a time as I type back my response.
I’m on my way!
This doesn’t require you coming over.
Ignoring his text, I toss my phone on my bed, strip off my shorts, and jump in the shower. It takes me ten minutes to get ready and get out the door, the bright February sun beating down and reflecting off the foot of snow on the neighborhood lawns.
I have no idea why I’m finding out from Jack that Ava needs valentines—or what that even entails, considering Jack didn’t answer my questions—but I don’t care.
If it gets me closer to her, I’m doing it without a second thought.
When I get to Jack and Rumi’s house, I waste no time knocking, punching in their key-code that I was given for emergencies—thisdefinitelyis one—and letting myself in.
