When We're Alone

Chapter seventeen

STONE

FeistyAvamaybe the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“She’s gone,” Reid says, and when I tear my eyes away from where Ava disappeared, he’s smirking at me.

“What?”

Winnie and her friends have gone to the bathroom to try and wash the gunk from the fake heart out of her hair, and we’ve moved tables while some younger kids clear ours.

“Ava’s gone; you can stop staring at that corner now.”

“You like her?” Mason asks. “Because I do.” He grins widely, and I want to punch him straight in the mouth. “Not like that,” he says when he notices my expression. “I think she’s cool. Anything that’ll take Winnie and Caitlin down a peg or two is a good thing.”

“She’s not cool, she’s fucking fake. She’s always got that mask on. Acting like she’s got no emotions.”

“So do you.” He chuckles. “You wear that mask better than anyone I know.” He doesn’t sound like he’s criticising me, but telling the truth.

“Whatever. I don’t like her.”

“Okay,” Mason says, making that confirmation sound very much like a disagreement. “I’ve got class with our favourite Highlander. Bye, guys.”

It turns out Ava left after the locker altercation, and I wonder if she’s taking it harder than I thought, but by the time I get to see her at dinner, she looks fine. Well, she looks stunning, as usual.

“How was your day?” her mum asks her, and Ava looks stunned to hear it again. What is it with those two? I don’t think I’ve ever heard her mum speak before yesterday, but I thought she was shy or something. I only ever see her at these dinners, and it’s not like we’re close.

“It was good,” Ava replies politely, not mentioning school. “How was yours?”

“Good,” her mum replies with a small smile.

“We actually booked a vacation,” Dad adds. A vacation? I don’t think he’s taken a holiday in years. “Next week for spring break.”

“That’s great,” Ava says. “You deserve a break, Mum.” Does she? What does she do that’s so stressful?

“I have plans,” I say quickly. The last thing I need is to be stuck on some beach with Ava for a week. My self-control is pretty high, but fucking hell.

“That’s okay. We thought we’d go with some friends this time.” Dammit. I thought they’d take her with them.

That night, Mason and Reid come over for the fight, and we head into the movie room only to find Ava sprawled on one of the sofas again. She’s wearing a T-shirt and some tiny sleep shorts, her endless legs stretched out along the couch.

“Hey, little Highland,” Mason calls as we enter. “We missed you this afternoon.”

“Oh, my apologies. Whoever did you find to bully?” She rolls her eyes, and Reid and Mason grin.

“Firecracker! I love it.”

“It’s UFC night,” I say. She looks over to us questioningly as Mason throws himself down next to her.

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“It means get out.”

“Woah, Stone, so hostile,” Reid interjects. “I’m sure Ava would love to watch with us. Right, Ava?” She narrows her eyes suspiciously at him, but his open, smiling face must ease some tension because she relaxes a bit. This isn’t like Reid; he’s closed off to most people except me and Mason. Why is he making an effort for her?

“Watch what?”

“UFC. It’s a fighting thing.”

“Are you sharing your snacks?”

Reid says yes at the same time as I say no, but she keeps her eyes on him, smiling at his answer. She doesn’t smile at me like that. Now I’m jealous of my best friend over a smile. Ava sits up as Mason sprawls out right next to her, giving me a look as he settles in. Fucker. They spend the next half hour chatting and laughing between themselves like a fucking friendship circle, and my temper flares with each carefree giggle that comes out of her.

“I thought it was you who said that to Winnie as I left,” she says.

“Of course. We live to wind them up,” Reid offers.

“Not a fan?”

“Not exactly,” he confirms. He never talks this much with people. What’s going on with him?

“Why do you hang out with them, then?”

“It’s expected.”

“Ah, I’ve been there.” It surprises me that she sympathises with us. I thought Ava was a rich bitch, born and bred.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Rich people suck, right?”

They both chuckle, and Reid answers. “Rich rich people suck. Fortunately, we’re just the one lot of rich, which is why we’re so awesome.”

“Not to sound rude, but how are you in the Elite if you’re not rich rich?”

“Cole caught you up, has he? Stone basically forced everyone to accept it, we’ve been friends—”

“Are we watching the fucking fight or gossiping?” I ask, exasperated at their sudden bonding.

“Gossiping,” Ava answers instantly, and my eyebrows raise as Mason chokes trying to hold in a chuckle and Reid pats his back. “Been friends what?” she asks Reid again, but I speak before he can.

“None of your business. If you want to stay, be quiet.”

“Since when was it up to you whether I could speak or not?” she bites out.

“Since now. Shut the fuck up, Ava.”

She leans over Reid, placing her hand on his thigh to steady herself so she can glare daggers at me, but that hand pushes me over the edge. Before anything comes out of that pretty little mouth, I’m on my feet, dragging her up by the arm.

“Get the fuck off me,” she shouts, tugging her arm away, so I let it go and throw her over my shoulder instead.

“Stone,” Mason warns, but it’s fine. I’m not going to fucking hurt her.

“She’s fine. I’ll be back in a minute.” Ava is still shouting obscenities and thumping her fists against my back, but it’s really not doing anything. I jog up the stairs and into her room, dropping her on the bed. “Stay here.”

“I’m not a fucking dog,” she fumes.

“Then stop acting like a bitch.” She flinches as if I’ve hit her, and I regret my words instantly. I can’t control my temper around her. She makes me crazy. “Ava—”

“Get out.” I run a hand over my face but don’t move. “Unless you’re going to try and claim your prize again?” she hisses. I thought maybe I’d gotten away with the whole bet thing, but clearly not.

“That wasn’t what that was.” That was about me being crazy jealous that you’ve agreed to be with my brother before I even realised you were meant to be mine. Shit.

“What if Dane had won?”

“He wouldn’t have.” She stares at me from where she’s sat on her bed, leaning back on her hands. “I wouldn’t have let him.”

“Why not?”

I can’t answer that question truthfully out loud, so I don’t even try, leaving her alone on her bed to rejoin the guys downstairs.

“Didn’t think you’d be back down in one piece,” Reid laughs when I sit back down.

“Funny,” I deadpan.

“Don’t like her, huh?” I don’t dignify that question with a response.

Later, when they both leave and I’m heading up to bed, I can’t make myself walk straight past her door. I check the door, but it’s locked. I guess she does know about the key, then. I know I’m pushing her further and further away, and this is a good thing, but I can’t make myself stay away from her at night. I head down to the garage where we keep the coded lockbox for the spare keys and find the one for Ava’s room in there.

Her door opens silently and I slip in, taking my favourite seat in the world. Why is it so therapeutic to come here and watch her sleep so peacefully? Her face is relaxed, not flattened into that mask she puts on for the world, and not coated in hatred like most of the time she looks at me. She’s content and so fucking beautiful. I take in every bit of her face, committing to memory the picture of her like this. She rolls in her sleep and takes the covers with her, exposing her long, lean legs, and I immediately imagine what it’s like to have them wrapped around my waist. Bad idea. I nearly groan as my dick makes itself known, and my hand moves beneath my sweats without a clear thought from me. I can’t help it. The other day was nowhere near enough to satisfy me, and seeing as I can’t stand touching anyone else right now, Ava being on my mind constantly, this is what I get.

As I purposefully stroke my painfully hard shaft, I imagine climbing onto the bed next to her, pushing those tiny shorts down and sliding myself into her wet heat as she sleeps. She’d moan as if dreaming, and I’d slowly push in and out, taking what I want from her when she’s compliant until the pleasure would get too much and she’d wake, coming with a near silent moan, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted in ecstasy. As I come into my hand, I bite back my own moan and know, somehow, she has to be mine.