Page 84 of Pretty Relentless

My mind tries to figure out what in the hell she’s talking about, and when it finally comes up with the memory. “Oh, yeah. All taken care of.”

Ava was mortified when I told her about the whole sweater drama, how my daughter found it in the laundry and then took it over to my mom’s to give it back to her. I never asked Annabelle how and why she took it out of my closet because I didn’t want to give Annabelle another opportunity to put the whole thing under a microscope, but I wanted to. It was a reminder she’s a bit nosier and more observant than she used to be.

We chat for a few more minutes before she has to go to help set the table for dinner. “Get your homework done after dinner,” I say, even though I know I don’t need to.

“I will. Mike will be in the living room playing video games, so I’ll hang out in my room,” she informs me.

I don’t have anything against Mike, Julia’s boyfriend, but he seems to be making himself right at home. “All right, well, have a good evening.”

“I will, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you more, Belle.”

We hang up, and no sooner do I set my phone down on the armrest of the chair does it chime with a text.

Ava:Just now leaving. I offered to help gather some information for a grant the library is presenting at the board meeting on Wednesday night. Heading home now and then will be over.

Gavin:No rush. Take your time. I’ll be here, waiting. Naked.

Ava:And that’s supposed to cause me not to rush?

Gavin:Be safe. My nakedness will be here when you arrive.

Ava:On my way.

I jump up and stretch, taking a look around the living room. I’m anxious to have Ava back in my space. When she showed up at Logan’s cabin yesterday, we never made it here. She watched me work for a bit, then we ate some of the leftover food she had with her. Finally, I sent her home when I was picking up my tools to head home because she was exhausted. I suggested she just go home and get a good night’s sleep.

Heading to the kitchen, I check on the homemade pizzas I prepped and have ready to go in the oven, but I don’t want to put them in quite yet. I’ll give it another ten or fifteen minutes before I start to bake them, and if they’re not done when she arrives, I’ll use the free minutes as a time to steal a few kisses.

My phone rings from the living room, and I quickly retrieve it. My first thought is something’s up with Ava, maybe her car or at her house. So when I see my employee, Max’s, name on the screen, I relax just a bit.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” I ask in way of greeting.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I wanted to make you aware of something.”

“Shoot,” I reply, reaching for the remote and turning on the TV. We won’t necessarily watch it, but maybe we can find a movie to have on in the background while we eat.

“Uhhh, there’s some pictures online.”

The moment his words register, I stop. “What pictures?”

He hesitates before replying, “Pics of you and what looks like Ava Rutledge.” Blood starts to swoosh in my ears, and I almost miss what he’s saying. “At least that’s who the post says it is.”

“What post? Where?”

“Facebook. There’s this group someone in Pine Village created, and lots of people share news, pictures, and eventdetails there. Sometimes you get the occasional Karen in there bitching about something like the roads not being plowed enough to their liking or the chicken at the diner being drier than normal. Shit like that.”

“Get to the point,” I state with a little too much bite behind my words. It’s not directed at Max, just at the fact I want to know what the hell he’s talking about.

“Sorry, you can make anonymous posts, and someone posted some pictures. It says they were taken yesterday and it’s you and Ava. You’re standing on Logan’s porch at the cabin and have your arms around her. You’re clearly kissing in the first couple pics, and then you’re holding hands and walking inside the cabin in the fourth photo.”

I can see it, because I lived it. Yesterday, when she arrived at the cabin, the first thing I did when she stepped up on the porch was take her in my arms and kiss the hell out of her. I’d been craving those lips, her body pressed against mine, for too long. I didn’t even stop to see if someone was nearby. Yes, I knew there were people nearby, snowmobiling and ice fishing, but I was so focused on Ava, I ignored everything and everyone who could have been around us.

“Who posted?”

“I don’t know, man. It’s anonymous.”

“That’s bullshit. Someone posts something like that, they should be required to use their damn name,” I argue.

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