Page 21 of Unexpected Love

I pull up to Declan’s, putting the car in park, expecting Ava to be out as fast as she can, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she looks out the passenger window at the house. It’s dark except forthe porch light, and I notice Declan’s truck is missing from the driveway.

She doesn’t turn to me when she starts speaking. “Thank you for this evening—not just the meal with your dad but everything before that, too.”

I wait for her to look at me before saying anything. I study her for a minute when she does, deciding how to play this. I could pretend it’s no big deal and that nothing of importance happened this evening. We could go on randomly running into each other around town, flirting a little before moving on like acquaintances, but that’s not what I want. I’m not entirely sure what I want from this, but I know I want more of her.

Maybe it’s as simple as needing to solve the mystery that is Ava Day, but I’m being drawn to her, and I don’t know if I can ignore that.

“Obviously, I don't know what's going on—who's trying to get a hold of you or why—but it's clear you don't want to talk with them. And I get that you’re trying to tackle it all by yourself, and maybe that works for you…” I pause, making sure she hears me. “But based on the weight on your shoulders tonight—I have a feeling you’re about to run out of strength. So, just know, I’ve got some extra if you ever need to borrow it.”

Her eyes narrow slightly as she watches me. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”

“I’d like to know you,” I tell her honestly.

“Gage.” It’s just my name, nothing else. I’m not sure if she doesn’t know how to finish that sentence or if that’s all she was aiming to say, but I see the soft smile in the corner of her lips.

I give her my most charming smile, the one that normally gets me out of trouble. “I have a feeling this might be an inappropriate time to ask you out on a date.”

Ava laughs, shaking her head as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “Gage, I’m the last person you want to ask on a date. My life isa mess and I have no idea where I’ll be a month from now, let alone a week from now.” She opens the door, hoping out. “Trust me, you’re better off finding someone else.” She smiles, gently closing the door and turning up the walkway to the house.

I watch her as she unlocks the door, turning to wave before she disappears from view—a few lights clicking on in the front windows. I should drive away, I know that, but I’m stuck where I am, thinking about what she said.

She might think that little speech would deter me from asking her out again—and normally it would—but with Ava, it does the complete opposite. Now I'm even more determined to get her to go out with me. She intrigues me in a way no other woman has before, and there is something inside me that can't let go of getting to know her more.

ten

AVA

“Ava,this is getting ridiculous. It’s time to come home.” I stare at my phone sitting on the counter, my mother’s voice coming out of the speaker. “We’ve spoken with your brother. We know you’re with him and that you told him you were fired, but you haven’t told him about Brian. So clearly, you’re trying to protect someone here. I just don’t know if it’s yourself from your brother learning what a hussy you are or if it’s to protect us from his wrath about the arranged marriage.”

I produce a very unladylike snort as if I would ever protectthemfrom anyone's wrath. Hearing what my mother thinks of me should elicit some stronger emotion, but as I listen to her unending diatribe, I've gone numb to all of it. Ever since that dinner with Gage and his father two weeks ago, I haven’t been able to feel much of anything when it comes to my mother.

It’s not like I haven’t seen healthy parental relationships before. I have. Caleb, Quinn, and Max's relationship with Scott being a prime example. But something about sitting there that night with Gage and Nick flipped a switch.

There’s no excuse for how my mother has spoken to me over the last month—for selling me off to the highest bidder.

I don't have any proof—and I can't figure out why—but financial gain is the only reason I can see for their drastic actions. Brian's family is extremely wealthy, and I can see my parents pushing hard for this marriage—or, more accurately, this merger of two families. They want the wealth and prestige that will come with their daughter being a Wellsley.

“Either way, you missed Thanksgiving, and we can’t put off the Wellsleys any longer. You need to come home and take your place by Brian’s side. I’ve had enough of this temper tantrum.” I hear the disinterest in her voice, and I can picture her sitting at her desk, working with her assistant sitting across from her—not a care in the world for the pain she’s causing. “Ava. It’s time to come home,” she repeats after a few moments of silence.

I have to wonder if she’s right—about why I still haven’t told Declan the truth. He’s asked about it several times, and I’ve still pushed him off.

I know Declan's relationship with my parents isn’t dependent on this news. He was done with them six years ago when he got divorced. At this point, the only reason he goes home is to see me and his best friend, Ryan.

No, Declan’s relationship with my parents wouldn’t change a bit if he knew about what they were trying to do.

Is there a part of me that thinks he won’t believe me about what Brian did in his office that night? Am I afraid of what he’ll think of me?No, absolutely not.

Declan’s never done anything to make me think he’d look down on me. In our entire lives, hes never once responded in a way that leads me to believe he won't support me with everything he has. And yet, I haven’t told him about that night.

“Ava.” Her tone is sharp now, as if she’s reached her limit.

“I’m not coming home. At least, not right now. I may not be working for the firm anymore, but I do have a case here. I’m going to see that through before I do anything else.”

I look around the kitchen and realize I’m exactly where I was two weeks ago—on the phone with my mother and about to go insane from how stagnant my life has become. But then I realize I’m hundreds of miles from Boston. I don’t have to put up with her crap.

“I have to go.” Without waiting for a response, I hang up. Standing from my seat, I move to the front door and bundle myself up in my coat before grabbing my purse and walking out the door.

Without thinking about it, I find myself walking through the door at Murphy’s, looking for what has become that familiar head of honey-brown hair and set of broad shoulders.

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