Wreck Me (Nova #4)(80)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

I’m scared shitless as I open my phone and compose a text to her.

Me: We need to talk… There’s something really important that I need to tell you.

Chapter 33

Maybe it’s time to make up my own mind.

Avery

There was an exact moment when I stopped thinking about my past so much. I’m not exactly sure when it occurred or how it happened other than, one day, I realized my nightmares were less frequent. The thing is, I’ve always thought that, when I’d come back to life, I owed the stars for bringing me back, that I was supposed to help whoever cried out. For a month, I thought that person was Tristan, but now I’m not so sure anymore, because sometimes it feels like he’s helping me as much as I’m helping him. I worry I’m doing everything wrong again, yet I can’t seem to stop myself from falling for him.

It’s been a week since my birthday, a week since that amazing birthday present happened. Tristan and I haven’t taken things further, only sharing a few kisses and spending a lot of time laughing. With each smile, touch, exchange, I feel myself getting more lost in him. In us. And, while it’s in no way like what I had with Conner, I fear I’ll lose myself in someone again.

So I fight the battle.

Of falling too deeply.

But with each breath.

Kiss.

Touch.

I tumble farther.

Into the unknown.

Desperate to hold on.

Yet desperate to let go.

It’s Sunday evening. In just an hour, I’ll be heading to the beach for my “grownup birthday party” as Charissa put it. I’m nervous. Excited. A cluster fuck of emotions. The mom in me feels guilty for not only leaving Mason for the night, but for making Jax babysit. I did manage to get Mason a spot in daycare three times a week to give Jax a breather and go be an eighteen-year-old. It’s going to kill me financially, but after a lot of deliberating, I’ve decided to ask Benny to start paying me for the accounting work, like Tristan suggested, at least until I get a new job. I have a couple of interviews lined up over the couple of weeks, but I’m nervous, because they’re better than the other jobs I’ve had in the past. One is for a manager position at a restaurant and the other is for a secretary at a local dealership. I’m crossing my fingers that I’m good enough to be considered for the positions and double-crossing my fingers that I’ll be able to handle a nine to five job. I figure it won’t be any worse than my schedule now; the extra work hours can just replace the time I spend at the Habitat home, which will be finished up in a month.

“So when should I pick you up?” Tristan asks as he strolls over to the bar counter. Sundays are usually a happy medium between weekdays and weekends. Today there’s a handful of the rowdier crew playing pool and a small group performing karaoke—just enough customers that the staff doesn’t get bored, but also enough we don’t have time to chat with each other too much. This is the first opportunity Tristan and I have gotten to converse, so I’ve yet to ask him what the hell was up with the random text he sent me last night.

“If you want, we can just leave from here,” I say as I sweep the floor behind the counter. “I brought my stuff and everything. I just have to chat with Benny before we leave.”

He props his elbows on the countertop and leans over to not-so-discreetly check out my ass. “About what?”

“About paying me for the accounting work from now on.” I balance the broom against the wall and start stacking the clean cups up on top of each other.

“Good,” he says straightforwardly. “You shouldn’t be doing that shit for free.”

“I know,” I wholeheartedly agree. “I just hope he sees it that way.”

“Well, if he doesn’t, then you shouldn’t do it anymore. In fact, I think you should tell him he not only has to pay you extra for the accounting work, but that you’re not going to dance on the counter anymore.”

“I have to do that.” I grab a rag from a drawer below the beer tap. “I need the money… But I did apply for a couple of jobs recently that don’t require shaking my ass. I have a few interviews over the next couple of weeks.” When he grins, excited for me, I add, “Don’t get too excited yet. I still have to get hired for one of them… and I’m a little doubtful that’s going to happen.”

“Avery, you’re a smart girl. Too smart to be doing that shit. In fact, you should have already been working somewhere else, somewhere better, and I’m sure there’s a ton of people that will want to hire you—a ton of people that will want you.”

I’m no longer sure if he’s talking about the job anymore.

My hair veils my face as I wipe the countertop down. “I’ve done some pretty dumb stuff in my life and working here doesn’t even come close to the worst of it. And if I have to keep working at the bar, then I will. It’s probably where I belong anyway.”

He sighs. “Well, my money is that in a few weeks, you’ll be putting all of this behind you.” He glances at the clock on the wall behind me and then moves his arms away from the counter. “I brought my swim shorts with me, so whenever you’re ready, we can go.”

“Wait, what car are we driving?”

“I borrowed Nova’s.” He grins as he reaches over and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You didn’t think I was going to let you drive on our first official date, did you?”

“We’ve been on dates,” I protest. “A few of them.”

He nibbles on his bottom lip, making me think about how amazing those lips are, how many times I’ve tasted them, how I want to taste them right now. “Hanging out at the motel and your house doesn’t count. We’re never alone. And as much as I love spending time with Nova and Quinton or Mason and Jax, we technically haven’t done the alone thing yet.”

“It counts in my book,” I say flatly as I put out a few bowls of peanuts onto the countertop. “And I don’t have much time for alone time.”

“I know.” He cups my cheek and gently smoothes his thumb over my cheekbone. “And I’m not saying you have to spend a bunch of time alone with me. I’m only saying I’m driving tonight. It’ll give us time to talk.”

“About the thing you texted me last night? Because that’s been driving me crazy.”

The concern in his expression makes my stomach churn. What could he possibly want to talk to me about that has him worried like that?