I’ll let her believe my bond with Sean is driving my need to go above and beyond for his sister.
No one needs to know that I’m drawn to her in a way I can’t explain. Whatever it is I feel for her, I know I can control it. I have to. I have no other choice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ava
“IT’S amazing what a couple of plants can do for a space.” Callie steps back to survey her handiwork. “I don’t claim to have a green thumb, but if you water them every few days and keep them in the sunlight, they’ll last until you go back to London. Sean and I will adopt them then.”
I smile at her. “You didn’t have to bring me a housewarming gift.”
I was surprised that she texted me when I was buying sheet music this morning. She asked if she could stop by after work. I couldn’t say no to that.
“I did,” she insists. “The framed print was too large for me to carry around Manhattan, so Sean will drop it off tonight.”
“Thank you for everything.”
Her smile widens. “I like your apartment. It’s bright and airy. I think you made an excellent choice when you picked this place.”
I don’t know her well, but her opinion means a lot to me. I always secretly wished for a sister, but I realized when I was a child that would never happen.
I overheard my parents talking about me. Even back then, with my limited knowledge of where babies came from, it was apparent that my parents didn’t plan on having me.
They’ve never treated me in a way that suggests they don’t love me. I haven’t wanted for anything, and they showered me with attention.
It’s only been since I moved to London that we’ve drifted apart physically. They’ve been enjoying life in Florida with friends, so London was never on their list of vacation destinations, although they’ve promised they’ll be back in Manhattan to see me before I leave.
“I like it so far,” I tell her.
She nods. “Have you been able to reconnect with any friends since you’ve been back?”
“Kind of,” I answer honestly.
I tried to get more face-to-face time with Kerry, but her job took her out of New York for the next six weeks. The other friends who were at my birthday party have busy schedules too.
“Do you miss London?”
I turn to look at her. “I thought I would, but it’s never really felt like home the way Manhattan does. I know it might be hard to understand, but I love everything about this place. The noise, the food, even the smells.”
She laughs. “I love it too. I can’t imagine living anywhere but here.”
I glance toward the windows that overlook the city. “It’s an inspiring place.”
“Have you been working on anything new?” There’s a hint of giddiness in her tone. “Sean has told me how gifted you are and although I don’t know a lot about piano compositions, I know you have something special.”
I look back to find her standing next to the piano.
The way the sunlight is filtering in through the window and hitting her makes it look like there’s a halo around her.
I’m tempted to grab my phone and take a picture to send to my brother since he’s often called her his angel in his text messages.
“I have been,” I admit, resting my palm against the middle of my chest. “If something sparks in here when I’m working on a new composition, I know it’s a winner.”
Smoothing a hand over the front of her white blouse, she smiles. “It’s not the same, but when I see Sean, I feel a spark in my chest too.”
I step closer to her. “I’m glad you found each other, Callie.”
“Me too,” she says. “I hope you find what we have, Ava. It’s the very best feeling in the world.”
I move to embrace her. “I will one day, but that’s years away. I have a lot of life to live before then.”
I’ve spent most of the day working on my new composition. It’s flowing easily, and as I’ve sat at the piano and worked my way through the ideas sifting through my head, I kept glancing up to see the plants that Callie dropped off yesterday.
Sean showed up two hours after she left last night with Italian food and the framed print of the playground.
We ate at my dining table and reminisced about the days we spent at the playground before he hung the print on a nail left by the last tenant. It’s not in the exact center of the wall, but it’s perfect in my eyes.
I sigh when I hear my phone chime again.
It’s been interrupting me all day with messages from friends back in London and a couple of random text messages from my dad about starfish and moonshine. He found a starfish in a gift shop near the beach in Orlando. He snapped a picture of it for me and sent it along with a message about our first trip to the coast when I was a kid.
The second message was about how the man living in the condo next door to my parents’ home offered him a shot of moonshine. I laughed as I read it because my dad can’t handle even a drop of alcohol.
Expecting another text from my dad, my breath catches when I see the name on my phone’s screen. I read the message quickly.
Harrison: Are you home? I have something for you.
I’ve been daydreaming about something of his for days now, but I need to file that under ‘never-going-to-see-that’ in my mind because his naked body will always be out of sight for me.
I take all of one second to contemplate whether to tell him I’m home or not.
Ava: I’m home. Is that something a surprise?
I jump off the piano bench to stretch my legs. Looking down, I realize I’m still wearing only my panties and the T-shirt I put on after I showered this morning.
I take off toward my bedroom to slip on a pair of jeans and a short sleeve blue sweater.
Just as I finish running a brush through my hair, my phone chimes again. I scoop it up from where I tossed it on the bed.
Harrison: A big surprise.
If he were anyone but Sean’s best friend, I’d ask if that big surprise is his cock, but Harry won’t play that game with me. That’s partially my fault because the day after my birthday, I agreed with him that we could never put ourselves in a compromising position again.
The more time I spend with him, the more I wish I could have a do-over on that decision.
I respond to his text with a message that I hope will bring a smile to his face.
Ava: Give me a hint.
While I wait for his response, I reconsider my hair. I let it dry on its own, so it’s wavy. Normally, I’d embrace that by touching up the waves with a curling iron, but I opt instead to twist my hair into a messy bun at the base of my neck. Then I apply a coat of mascara to my already-long lashes and a touch of powder on my forehead and nose.
My phone steals my attention away again, but this time it’s ringing. Harrison’s name appears on the screen.
Sucking in a deep breath, I connect the call with a push of my finger. “Hey!”
“I’m in front of your building, London,” he says in that deep, way-too-alluring voice. “Let me up.”