Max’s eyes widen on me. He knows I don’t want Ava to know that Evie’s my girlfriend or be anywhere near her.
“I was just heading home,” Evie says in a quiet voice to Max.
“I’ll take you,” I tell to her.
Evie finally looks at me, and the look is hard. It cuts me to the quick, but it is nothing less than I deserve right now.
“No. I’ll take the bus.” Her chin defiantly juts out.
“I’ll give you a ride,” Max says to her.
She glances over at Max, and I see her relax a little.
“That’d be great. Thank you.”
Well, fuck me.
I try not to take that personally, but I do. It actually makes me want to punch a hole in the wall.
But I want Evie away from Ava more than I want to throw a temper tantrum right now.
Max grabs his keys from the coffee table.
I follow them to the front door.
Hooking my fingers into Evie’s shirt, I pull her back to me. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper in her ear, sliding my hands over her waist. “I’ll come over later and explain everything.”
She doesn’t say anything. She just pulls away and walks out the front door without looking back.
“You okay?” Max asks me.
“I said some stuff. Didn’t want Ava to know that Evie’s important to me. Evie doesn’t understand why. I’ve never told her what Ava’s like,” I say in a quiet voice.
“I’ll try to do damage control on the drive home. Just get rid of the devil as soon as you can, and then get your ass over to Evie’s. You want me to come back after I’ve dropped Evie off? We can tag-team Ava.”
He’s being a good friend, but I know the last place he wants to be is here. Can’t blame him for that. Ava is like poison.
“Nah, it’s cool, but thanks, man. I’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “Whatever Ava wants, Adam, tell her no.” He fixes me with a stare.
He knows what Ava’s like. And he knows what I’m like. I always cave to what she wants simply because it makes my life easier.
I stand at the door, watching as Max pulls his truck out of the driveway.
I will Evie to look at me, but she doesn’t.
It hurts, and right now, I’m blaming Ava for that.
When Max’s truck is out of sight, I slam the front door shut.
I take a deep breath, preparing myself to deal with Ava. Then, I walk back into the living room.
I find her perched on the arm of the chair, sitting like she’s about to take a scene.
That’s Ava. Everything’s a movie to her. Life is fucking a movie.
“There’s no alcohol here,” she complains. “I want a martini.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not old enough to buy alcohol. I’m only nineteen, remember?” I dig at her forgetting my birthday.
She lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t give me that shit, Adam. You’ve been buying liquor since you were sixteen.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Okay, let’s cut the bullshit. What are you doing here?”
“Visiting my son.” She folds her arms, mirroring me. “Your little girlfriend seems…nice.” She screws her face up on the word nice.
“She’s not my girlfriend. I’m just fucking her.”
“Well, I think it’s sweet that you’ve found yourself a little piece of trailer trash to play with while you’re here.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I snap on reflex.
Ava smiles a winning smile, and I know I’ve screwed up.
“Awfully touchy about some girl you’re just fucking.”
“I’m not doing this with you. Just tell me what you want, and then you can get the fuck out.”
“Honestly, the way you talk to me.” She laughs easily, shaking her head, like I’ve just told some joke. Then, she unfolds her arms and places her hands flat on her thighs. “So, I need a teeny, tiny favor.”
I snort.
The last teeny, tiny favor I did for her involved me flying to Vegas to get Eric. My father had spent the weekend with some male hooker in the apartment he owned there, fucking him and getting high on coke. Then, the hooker waited until Eric had passed out from the drugs before handcuffing him to the bed and robbing him of everything he had. The hooker did leave the phone on the bed so that Eric could call for help and the keys to the handcuffs on the bedside table so that I could unlock him.
How kind of him.
Ava wanted to keep the incident out of the press, so I was sent to go help him.
Walking in and seeing my father handcuffed to the bed, butt naked, with used needles on the bedside table and a dirty condom still on his cock was not a scene any kid should have to deal with or see. And it’s one I’ve sadly never quite been able to scrub from my mind.
“Is Eric in trouble again?”
“Not exactly. I mean, he’s always in trouble. But this isn’t trouble as much as this is business. A favor will help him and ultimately you, as the studio will be yours one day. It’s a mutually beneficial kind of favor.”
I fold my arms and lean back against the wall, readying myself for the bullshit.
“Do you remember Mandi Becker?”
I cringe when I hear the name. Mandi was a few years younger than me. Total psycho. She had this massive crush on me. Used to follow me around like an annoying puppy dog. Tried to get it on with me a few times, but of course, I always blew her off.