One Week with the Marine (Love on Location)

“I know you don’t mind the couch. It’s been a while since you got here, so I figure it won’t bother you to stay there tonight.”

She tried to weigh the words, to stop the gears in her head from grinding so furiously against each other. But she had nothing. She didn’t even know what she was saying anymore. Why had she opened her mouth? Why hadn’t she just gone to bed?

Now there was this oozing silence between them that stuck to her skin and made her insides itch. One thing was for sure, though—she wouldn’t be able to sleep here. She wouldn’t be able to handle it, knowing he was sitting in her living room, wondering how he could change her mind.

She needed to leave. For him. And herself.

“Actually, you know, I haven’t seen Myla in a while. I’m going to go visit her.” Her voice broke. Damn.

“Avery, don’t cry.”

“I’m not. The air is…thick in here.” She grabbed a T-shirt and jeans off the floor and pulled them on.

The whole thing was so unfair.

He reached out to her, but she ducked under him. “I need some space, I think.” Her hand was on the door. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

He opened his mouth, but she turned the knob and disappeared. She knew he wouldn’t chase after her now. No matter how much she might want him to.

…

Myla opened her door with a frilly blindfold still partially obscuring her eyes. Her dark curls were a nest of chaos, weirdly in contrast to her rose-colored Pretty Pretty Princess nightgown.

“Avery, of course. Who else would show up at my door after midnight?” Then she seemed to look closer and pulled her sleep mask off. Her face contorted into confusion mingled with horror.

The crying. She’s never seen me cry. That must be it.

“Avery? Come in. Come in.”

Damn, I must really look rough.

She sniffled and followed her friend inside the immaculate house. She settled on the white sofa despite the certainty that she would stain the thing simply by sitting down on it. But at the moment, she had bigger concerns.

She explained to Myla what had happened without too much lead-up. There was no point wasting their valuable time with the soft fuzzies.

“I’m so sorry everything went down like that.” Myla rubbed Avery’s forearm. “But I’m still not really sure what you wanted to happen here.” She paused and Avery cringed, knowing what she was bound to say next.

“You can’t keep doing this. You need to end it.”

And there it was.

“I-I…” Avery mumbled, but she wasn’t really sure what to say. How could she explain her biggest fear to someone who thought she was basically fearless?

“I see you when he leaves. You’re not the same person. You drift around, waiting for him to call. You don’t live your life because you’re waiting for him. So, either go after what you want, or give it up and find something else to live for.”

“Listen, Dr. Phil, could you tone it down for a minute? I…” She took a deep breath. It was finally time to say it out loud. “He’s my best friend. The best person I know. I-I know that I can’t be with him. I’m not good enough. Not for him.” Her voice broke on the final word, and her cheeks burned.

Myla frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He’s…Holden’s special. He needs someone who can support him while he runs for president or whatever. I can’t even support me while I pour a bowl of cereal.”

“Oh, sweetie, we both know you don’t have cereal in that hovel you call an apartment.” Myla smiled, and though Avery tried to respond in kind, it was too much.

“Be that as it may, I’m not for him. He should know that. Besides, his family hates me. It’s a match made in postapocalyptic New Jersey. It’s the worst thing imaginable. And I would ruin his life.”

“But he wants you? He wants to be with you?”

Avery closed her eyes and shook her head. “He wants to ruin it.”