Page 31 of Make It Last

I set the phone down, only then realizing I’d been grinning through our entire text exchange. My cheeks actually hurt.

Ava was a lot of things. Unexpected, bright, alive, funny, and fierce. But mostly, she made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a while—a sense of possibility and joy.

I was going to kiss her again. I didn’t care if she was only here temporarily. I didn’t care if this was crazy. Every chance you didn’t take, you lost, so the cliché went.

Chapter Thirteen

Ava

Sunset nerves

I hobbled into the bathroom, anxiously checking my hair in the mirror. I was rushing around, if you could call awkward, uneven crutch-hopping “rushing.”

My hair looked, well, fine. “Right,” I said to myself. “Who cares if Tanner and I are just friends? That’s for the best. I mean, I just got divorced six months ago.” I took a shaky breath. “Oh my God, I’m having a full-on conversation with my reflection,” I muttered aloud.

With a sigh, I turned away and crutched my way back to the couch. Josie had texted earlier—she’d be bringing me my foster cat tomorrow, and I really wished he were already here. I needed something, anything, to focus on other than myself and my nerves.

Distraction had been working, sort of. I’d thrown myself into a glorious binge of real estate shows, marveling at luxury kitchens I’d never afford, and switched over to my beloved baking shows. The Great British Baking Show was basically therapy for my soul—low-stakes drama and bakes I’d never attempt but could dream about. Once, I even made one of their technical recipes. It turned out great. Brad had scoffed at it. Whatever.

I happened to catch a glimpse out the window and stilled. The sunset spread across the sky like a glorious watercolor—lavender and pink mingling with orange streaks, rimmed in gold and hugging the jagged line of the mountain ridge. It was so stunning it took my breath away.

“Wow,” I whispered.

Just then, my phone vibrated on the coffee table. I clumsily crutched over, dropped onto the couch, and grabbed it.

Tanner: On the way. Should be there in about 10 minutes.

My stomach flipped. I wanted to jump up and check the mirror again. I didn’t. I looked fine. Yet I hated how insecure I felt. Brad had really done a number on me. Finding out he’d cheated hurt like hell, but the comments he’d made to justify it had stuck.

Apparently, I didn’t put enough effort into my appearance. I was “too tense” in bed. I guess I didn’t fake it well enough for his fragile ego. Fuck my life.

Not that I had a whole lot of experience to compare with for my sexual escapades. Just Brad. I was pretty sure he wasn’t exactly a gold standard. He got off on choking. That had been so not fun.

“Everybody’s into it,” he’d said.

Except I wasn’t. At all. I’d never dared bring it up with friends. But—thank you, internet—turns out it’s a thing an unfortunate number of guys assume women like. Also, it turns out it’s actually quite dangerous. It’s the second most common cause of stroke in women under forty. What the actual fuck?

So yeah. Dating didn’t sound super appealing. I sighed. Tanner is just bringing you dinner.

Maybe we kissed. Once.

I turned the TV back on just to settle myself. Thank goodness Tate had already set up all the streaming services. I still hadn’t met the guy, but he’d texted a quick welcome and told me to reach out to him or Josie if I needed anything. I already had everything. More than I deserved, honestly.

Technically, I could work remotely. I was a glorified receptionist who ran the entire office. I earned decent money. Not rich, not poor, just busy and usually over-worked. I carried a lot for my family, especially after my sister died.

Don’t go there, now, I ordered myself.

I took another breath. It’s just because you’re lonely. That was what this jittery, stupid excitement was. The crunch of gravel interrupted my spiral. I jumped up, nearly forgot my crutch, wobbled, cursed, grabbed it, and hobbled to the door. Just in time to see Tanner step out of his truck.

“Hey there!” he called.

“Hi!” I called back, way too enthusiastic for someone opening a door.

He grinned as he jogged up the steps with three paper bags.

“What’d you get?” I asked.

“Have you been to the Gallery Café?”