He stretches his legs out and lays linked hands on his belly. “If she thought what you guys had was worth fighting for, yeah, she would have stayed no matter what I might’ve said. But she didn’t. Doesn’t that tell you something? Wake up, Lucas. Ava thinks you’re the enemy, and you’re treating her with kid gloves. That has to change.”
“Are you fucking serious? I’m not going to treat her the way you treat the women you sleep with.” Women are like condoms to Blake—one-time use only. “She’s special.”
“Uh-huh. And how did your special snowflake treat you when you showed up with that pot full of dirt? Did she light up and say hello? Or did she pull aw
ay like you were a slime monster?”
Dirty.
Don’t touch me.
What did I say about touching me when you’re dirty?
Don’t be greedy.
You’re toxic.
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, my teeth clenched tight.
“What do you really know about her?” Blake’s question cuts through the ugly voices in my head.
I sigh. “Where are you going with this?” With Blake, there’s always a particular conclusion he wants to lead you to.
He continues, “You say she’s special, but you don’t really know much about her past, do you?
“She’s loyal. Caring. Capable of putting others before her. I don’t need more than that.” Those are the qualities that drew me to her in the first place. I’m not going to lie; her looks also had something to do with my attraction…but if I hadn’t glimpsed those other aspects, I would never have fallen for her as hard as I did.
Blake regards me patiently, like I’m five. “Anyone can fake that stuff. Look, you need to adjust the way you view this whole”—he gestures at me, in the direction of Darcy and Ray’s house, the whole neighborhood—“situation.”
“You’re giving me relationship advice now?”
“Somebody has to. And I’m not letting you continue with what you’ve been doing to yourself anymore.”
I cross my arms.
“Unless, of course, you think that what you’ve been doing is working.”
Touché. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”
“Unless you know your enemy really well, you can’t win.”
Some advice. Blake should never be a relationship counselor. “Ava isn’t the enemy.”
“Really? Then why don’t you have what you want?”
“What the hell kind of question is that?”
“A pertinent one. You have an answer?”
I have no good response to counter his crazy logic. “She’s who I want, except she thinks that I betrayed her. Goddamn tabloids!”
“Tabloids have little to do with it. Fuck decency and what the world says is fair. To win and get what you want, you have to be willing to go the distance. You have to use every weakness your enemy has, and you have to be ruthless. Zero mercy. Then you can win.”
“What the hell, man? If I go that route, she’s going to hate me.”
He shrugs. “She already hates you.”
The four simple words stop me. Her contemptuous expression drips through my consciousness like acid. She found my effort pitiable, my hands grimy, my very presence about as pleasant as a pile of dog shit left on her nice front porch. My mouth dries, and I surreptitiously wipe my hands on my pants.