I expect Mel to go all cray cray on his ass, but she just rolls her eyes. “Like your trust matters to me, tightey whitey. I’m done with this conversation.” She turns to me, “Avery, you’ll have to put up with this loser for a little while longer. Don’t do something stupid while I’m gone. And if you decide to give him that ring, you should shove it up his ass.” She walks away muttering obscenities. I can tell she likes Sean, a little, but still thinks he’s more trouble than he’s worth.
“Uh, Mel,” I call after her. She gives me a super-irritated look after turning around. Giving her a half smile, I hold up my keys. “You need these. And when I get back, we can hit IHOP. Promise.”
Mel snatches the key ring from my hand. There’s a unicorn on it from when I was in seventh grade. My mom gave it to me after Missy Walker humiliated me in the girl’s locker room. My boobs were virtually nonexistent then, and Missy made sure everyone knew it. There’s a story my mom told me, about seeing through the surface and recognizing the magic that lies beneath. No one notices that the white animal is a unicorn at first. They see a snowy mare and nothing more. It isn’t until you really look at the thing that you see its horn. It’s transparent and gleams against the silver plate, and it’s the kind of thing a person misses if they look quickly.
My mom taught me to look beyond the surface and I can’t help but smile because Mel is like that. On the outside, she’s beauty and fire, fang and tooth. She’ll rip a person to shreds for the fun of it. At least it seems that way at first. It isn’t until you spend time with her that it becomes clearer that she’s been hurt beyond repair and that her nature is protective more than anything else.
We’re all like that, all three of us. We’ve been destroyed by this life. The thing is, I don’t want it to be over. I don’t want to resign, dig my grave, and jump in. As long as there’s still air in my lungs, I want my life back. I want to have a family again. I want to love and be loved. I refuse to keep treading water, because it’s getting me nowhere. Day by day, I grow wearier and I’m sick of it. I want to live again and I know the path to that life lies with these two friends.
Mel rubs her thumb over the metal unicorn. She smiles and shakes her head at me, like she knows me better than she should. “You know I love me some pancakes. And Avery—everything is going to work out.” Her voice catches in her throat when she says it, like she knows worse things will be coming.
CHAPTER 3
I’m stuck inside the house, watching the construction crew for a few hours, before Sean shoves a helmet on my head and tells me to get on the back of his bike.
I take it off, jump to my feet, and follow him outside to where his motorcycle is parked at the curb. Shoving the helmet back at him, I say, “I’m not taking your only helmet.”
Sean’s eye twitches slightly before he rubs his hands over his face to hide the tic. I’m not being annoying enough to cause that, but Sean seems to think so. “Then what do you suggest?”
“That you put it on, so you don’t have to wear scrambled brains on your shoulders for the rest of your life. If you add a face that’s been smeared like roadkill to that growling and eye-twitchy thing you got going on, well, people will talk, Sean, dear.”
Sean glances up at me, cocking an eyebrow. “When did I growl?”
“Not right now, but you do it frequently when someone pisses you off and since everyone pisses you off—” I shrug my shoulders.
“Avery, what’s it going to take to get your ass on this bike?” I’m quiet for a moment. My mind is still stuck on the fact that Sean growls at people, but he doesn’t make that noise in the bedroom. He must read my thoughts, because his annoyed pout turns into a sultry smirk. “Avery, stop thinking about sex.”
My jaw drops. “I was not!”
“You were too. Your eyes get this doe look before you space out and fail to answer important questions.” Sean is straddling the bike, and I have no recollection of when he got on. My eyes can’t help but rove over his jeans which are hugging his thighs. I’d love to feel those thighs around me again, but I won’t do it. I know whatever we had is done, unless I want to be his mistress—and I don’t.
I won’t settle. If I do, I’ll be stuck in limboland, pining over some guy who isn’t courageous enough to try again, and I can’t fathom being paired with Sean if he feels that way.
I mean, the man is amazing, but I’m not happy staying like this. I want to move on, and it seems like he’s content to stay stuck. I don’t pretend to know what it’s like to lose a spouse and a child. I can’t imagine what Sean felt sitting through the trial that followed their deaths, either. Is it bad that I want Sean to let go of that? Can’t he hold onto the good and let go of the bad?