“What? Who told you that?”
“Levi saw you two out at Jordan’s Inn. You deserve better than someone who hurts you, Ava. Let me be the better that you deserve.”
She shakes her head again. “Harrison didn’t hurt me. I wasn’t sad. I was happy.” She waits, as if giving me a moment to make sense of that. “He asked me to marry him.”
For a beat, I think she’s lying, concocting an outrageous story to explain away the behavior of a man who’s never been worthy of her.
But then I see the truth on her face and I feel like I disappear. I hear the cars on the street outside the apartment, the stereo playing in the apartment next door. I hold my breath—daring to hope she declined his proposal—but I already know. Even before she pulls up the too-long sleeve of her sweatshirt to show me her sparkling diamond, I already know she said yes.
I stare at the ring. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes. I love Harrison.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Jake?”
I tear my gaze off the ring to meet her eyes.
“I care about you very much. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you.”
The words are an icepick to my heart. I don’t want to lose her either. But I think I already have. “Don’t do it. Don’t marry him. I can’t do this anymore if you marry him.”
“Do what?” She tilts her head to the side and studies me. “What are you saying?”
“Ava, I want more. I tried to let this be enough, but . . . I can’t anymore.”
“Why are you doing this?” She shakes her head, and a lock of hair falls across one eye. I want to sweep it away. I want to pull her into my chest and beg her to listen to my heart. “You’re not . . .” She lifts her chin and studies the ceiling for a beat before leveling me with her hard gaze. “I know you hate Harrison, but this is too far.”
I step back—one step, then another—the sweet taste of her mouth still on my lips. “You don’t feel this at all?”
“I’m sorry. You’re my best friend.”
Those words hurt. Fuck. “I need to go.” My gaze snags on her ring again.
She’s really going to marry him.
And maybe if he were a more obvious asshole, a loser, or a cheat, I’d stand a chance at talking her out of it. But he’s a young lawyer, fresh out of law school, her father adores him, and he does something for her that I’ve never done.
I’m just Jake. The boy who grew up next door and put a snake in her bedroom when she was eight years old, the one she raced down the sledding hill with at ten, and mud-wrestled with at thirteen.
“We’re still good, right?” Panic curls the edges of her words.
“Why would I be good if you’re marrying him?”
“Because you’re my friend? Because you want me to be happy?”
“I’m in love with you.”
“No, you’re not,” she snaps. “We love each other because we’ve been friends forever. You’re not in love with me. I’m not even your type.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel.” Rage flares in my gut. I need her to hear me. To fucking believe me.
“You like busty blond girls who know the difference between Gucci and Versace.”
I can only shake my head. Busty blond girls. It’s true. I’ve gravitated toward women who are Ava’s polar opposite. If she gave it any thought at all, she’d know it’s because I was trying to get over her. Dating
anyone too much like Ava made me compare them, whether I wanted to or not, and any woman I compared to Ava came up short.
“Don’t let my engagement freak you out,” she whispers. “Nothing has to change between us.”
“Don’t settle for someone who’s not worthy of you just because you’re scared your father will never love you.” I regret the words as soon as I say them, and more when she flinches as if I’ve slapped her, but I can’t take them back. And maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe she needs to know what I see when I look at her and Harrison.