On the Way Down

Chapter Twenty-Four

"What's on your mind, chica?" Ava asks.

Her voice is surprisingly serious and quiet. I almost miss her question over the din of the outdoor patio at Granville and the motorcycle brigade roaring along Beverly Boulevard.

"Hmmm?" I stop stirring the ice cubes in my lemonade with what's fast becoming a soggy paper straw and glance across the table, but I avoid meeting her gaze. "What makes you think I have anything on my mind?"

She inches her sunglasses down her nose and narrows her eyes. "Because I know you better than you know yourself sometimes. For a woman who's in the honeymoon phase of a relationship, you sure seem preoccupied about something. Based on your face and your annoyed sighs, it isn't lust and butterflies."

She isn't wrong. Plus, she does know me inside out and backwards, and dodging the question is futile. I try anyway.

"Book stuff."

"Lies." She tosses a fry at me. It lands on my arm and leaves dots of oil and salt on my skin when it slides down to the table. "Are you having second thoughts about Phoenix now that you've done the deed again and it's out of your system?"

"How do you know we--"

"Please. I'd have questions about what's taking so long if you hadn't. This isn't your first rodeo together, even if he still gives me clown bullfighter vibes. Respectfully."

I had a hunch the ceasefire last weekend was too good to last. "You seemed okay with him in Vegas?"

"I was siding with your sex life in Vegas, and not with him. So?"

"What?"

She holds up another fry. I pull my arm off the table and shrink back in my chair, but she doesn't send this one sailing in my direction. "Was the sex a letdown after building it up in your imagination?"

"Not at all."

It's the truth, but Ava harping on this doesn't help my mental clarity. My mind is already threatening mutiny, at the ready to launch itself back into last weekend on a moment's notice, which will only make me wish I could physically return to that time in every way. Whatever this foreboding feeling I've been dealing with since boarding the flight home is, it's no match for what my body remembers.

"What are you stewing over, then?"

"Respectfully," I begin, enunciating each syllable of the word so she can't miss the undertone, "what makes you think I'm stewing?"

"Your mood, your energy, and your aura." Her own undertone is smug and matter-of-fact.

"You read auras now? Do your clients know, or is it a new service you charge extra for?"

She glances up at the sky and makes a show of appearing put out. I'm tempted to ask if she's channeling divine energy from above in addition to reading my aura, but she replies before I can.

"Don't change the subject, and don't get all sarcastic with me. That's my thing."

"I learned from the best."

Ava gives me a disbelieving look and pushes her sunglasses back up her nose. "The long-distance relationship sure has you moody. Can you make it through the day without killing someone, or do I need to put you on a plane to Vegas for some more vitamin D?"

"You did not just say that."

"Oh, but I did. Have you listened to yourself today?"

She sits back in her chair, both of her eyebrows arched. Guilt floods through me almost instantly, because yes, I am moody, and she's bearing the brunt of it. She shouldn't have to. This time when I speak, I do my best to paste a brighter expression on my face and lighten my tone.