Dear Ava: Enemies-to-lovers Standalone Romance by Madden-Mills Ilsa & Madden-Mills Ilsa

Author:Madden-Mills, Ilsa & Madden-Mills, Ilsa [Madden-Mills, Ilsa]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

14

I’m jogging down our quiet street on Saturday morning when I see Dad’s white BMW glide up to our wrought iron gates at the end of our road. His finger pushes in the code and his car moves down the lane to our three-story, Spanish-style mansion. About damn time. Sweat drips off me, and my muscles feel like lead after getting up early and running, but I pick up my pace. Normally, I’d sleep in a few hours on Saturday, saving my run for the gym later, but I woke up early, my head replaying Ava and me in the auditorium on Friday.

Ava with her lips on me.

Ava walking away from me.

She says she doesn’t blame me for what happened, but it doesn’t change the fact that deep down, part of me knows I can’t be involved with her.

There’s too much going on with me.

Dad looks up from the kitchen counter where he’s making coffee. “Hey! I thought you were asleep still. Morning run?” He half-smiles, but there’s appreciation in his tone that I’m keeping my endurance up for football. He played quarterback for Camden back in his day, and him watching Dane and me play has been the only stabilizing aspect of our relationship.

Wearing a suit, even on a Saturday, he’s tall, about six four, with dark brown hair. In his early forties, he’s going gray a little at his temples, but that doesn’t stop women from falling all over him. Maybe he dates while he’s in New York, but somehow I doubt there’s ever been a serious girlfriend. In the years since Mom passed, he’s never once mentioned a woman.

Sometimes I’m afraid I’m going to end up just like him, pushing everything down and locking it away. We barely saw him this summer except for a short vacation at our beach house on Kiawah Island where he spent the majority of his time on his laptop and phone while Dane and I roamed nearby Charleston.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say before walking to the fridge, grabbing a Gatorade, and chugging it down.

He pours his coffee in a mug and takes a long sip.

I settle in on one of the barstools at the white granite island in the middle of the kitchen. “It’s good to see you.” I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice and he hears it, a grimace crossing his face.

“I missed your first week back at Camden. How was it?” He does a double take when he searches my face. “Your eye has purple under it. Fighting already?”

My lips tighten. I’ve been known to use my fists, especially in middle school when everything went down with Mom. Most of the time, I save it for my opponents on the football field. I’ve learned to control my temper, but this week, well… “Shitty. You need to be here more. Dane’s not right.”

Sighing, he takes a seat. “He seemed fine this summer. Isn’t he taking his meds? Should we call his therapist and get him more sessions?”

“Maybe. I can’t exactly watch over him every day.

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