“I don’t either. But you’re kind of acting like a dick.”
“And you’re tense as shit over your girlfriend when, like I said, you should be over there sitting with her right now, clutching her tight.” I tilt my head in Ava’s direction. “Go to her. Tell her you love her. Tell her you’ll miss her when she’s gone.”
“I already have,” he says, sounding miserable, the tension slowly leaving him. “I’m a needy little fuck.”
“She likes your sorry ass, so don’t even worry about it. Go.” I gently shove his shoulders, pushing him forward. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start shit.”
“I’m sorry too. But you need to get out of your funk. Stat,” he says, shooting me a smile before he strides over to where Ava’s sitting. He literally picks her up, making her shriek, before settling on the couch and pulling her onto his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck, delivering a smacking kiss on his lips, and they’re immediately lost in each other.
No one else matters.
That’s all the girls’—including Ellie’s—cue to leave them alone. They all get up from where they were sitting, leaving Eli and Ava alone. I wait, watching Ellie as she approaches me, and I pull her into my arms when she gets close, giving her my own version of a smacking kiss.
Not as much smacking. And with a little tongue.
“You two seemed mad at each other,” she says when the kiss ends.
“We were. I thought we were going to come to blows,” I admit.
Ellie frowns. “What in the world? Why?”
“He’s tense over Ava having to leave tomorrow. And I’m tense about…other stuff,” I say, knowing she won’t let me get away with a vague answer.
“Like what?” Her frown deepens.
“I don’t want to talk about it here.” I drop another kiss on her lips. “We can discuss it later.”
“It’s not anything about us or—me, is it?” She sounds so concerned. I hate that.
“No. Not at all. I’m dealing with my own stupid shit.” I thought I’d be over it by now, but I’m way too much in my head over this Evergreen Records’ thing. I feel like I fucked up my entire musical career, and I have no one to blame but myself.
That sucks. Hard.
“Your stupid shit is mine too, you know.” She rests her hand on my chest, her fingers curling into my T-shirt. “I want to help you.”
The sincerity in her voice tells me she means every word she says. This girl has always wanted to help me. Support me.
“I know you do.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”
She slings her arms around my shoulders, clinging to me. “This weekend has been the best one I’ve had in a long time.”
“Me too.” I slip my arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. “I’m glad you didn’t have to work.”
“I have to go back tomorrow though.” She mock pouts. It’s cute. “I work all week.”
“We have an away game next Saturday,” I remind her. “Pasadena.”
“Who are you playing?” she asks with a frown.
“UCLA.” I grimace. “Probably going to have our asses handed to us.”
“I don’t know. I’ve heard their season hasn’t been that great,” she says.
I’m surprised. “You keep up with college football? Besides just the Bulldogs?”
“I work at a sports bar. We have ESPN on the big screen TVs at all times. It’s not like I’m purposely keeping up. I can’t help but absorb all of that information when I work there practically full-time,” she explains.
I laugh, squeezing her tight. “I love that you know what’s going on in college football.”