“It’s not unnecessary,” she said. “It’s about your family.”
“What about my family?”
“Are they still in New York?”
I prevented myself from clenching my jaw. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” She raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean you don’t know? Are you estranged from them?”
“No…” I sighed. “I just don’t have any parents.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Then why do I remember you telling me a story about your mom the first month that we met?”
“What story?”
“The story about Central Park and ice cream.” She looked into my eyes, as if she were expecting me to say something. “You said she took you to some children’s fair, I think? It was something that happened every Saturday. But the one you remembered most happened when it was raining and she still took you, and you stood in line for an hour just to get a scoop of vanilla.”
I blinked.
“Is that story not right? Am I mixing it up with something else?”
“No,” I said. “That’s right…But I haven’t seen her since.”
“Oh…” She looked down. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I trailed a finger across her lips. “I turned out just fine.”
“Can I ask you a few more things?”
“You have a daily question quota starting today.”
She rolled her eyes. “What do all the “E” and “H” pictures in your hallway stand for?”
I felt a sudden ache in my chest. “Nothing.”
“If you hate New York so much and you don’t like talking about your past or what you lost six years ago, why do you have so many mementos hanging on your walls?”
“Aubrey…”
“Okay, forget that question. And the Latin quote across your heart? What does it mean?”
“Lie about one thing, lie about it all.” I kissed her lips before she could ask me anything else. I was starting to wonder why she hadn’t wanted to be a damn journalist instead of a ballerina.
“It’s your turn,” she said softly. “You can ask me questions now.”
“I’d rather f**k you again.” I lifted her with me as I stood up and helped her out of the bath tub.
We both dried off and went into my bedroom. Just as I was pulling her against me, my doorbell rang.
I sighed. “Dinner’s early.” I slipped into a pair of lounge pants and a T-shirt and headed to the door with my credit card.
The second I opened it, I was confronted with the sight of the last person on earth I wanted to see. Ava.
“Don’t you dare f**king slam it on me this time,” she hissed. “We need to talk.”
“We don’t need to talk about shit.” I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not wanted here?’
“As many times as it’ll take you to actually believe it, which you don’t.” She scoffed. “Ask me why I came to Durham to see you, Mr. Hamilton. Appease me and I’ll finally go the hell away.”