the table.
Ava obeyed.
Part of Charlie wanted to flee this situation and the conversation they needed to have, but she couldn’t leave Ava like this.
After a few more sips of coffee, Ava’s eyes lit up. “Did you bring the book?”
“Yes.” Charlie curved her fingers around the warm mug.
“Can I see it?” Ava raised her eyebrows.
“It’s yours, so yes, although I’m not sure you’re in the right state for it.” Charlie didn’t reach for her bag.
Ava banged her elbows on the table. “Not to worry, Charlie, my moment of melodrama is passing quickly.” She let her head hang for a few seconds, her long hair obscuring everything but her shoulders. Then, with a quick movement, she flicked her head back, hair and all. “I’m my old self again.” She finished with a wide smile.
A chuckle rose all the way from Charlie’s belly. “Fine.” She dug the book out of her bag—which also held a swimming suit—and slid it in Ava’s direction.
Ava clutched the book to her chest. “My treasure.” She found Charlie’s eyes. “The other week when I wanted to read from it, why didn’t you let me?”
Charlie decided there was still a good amount of alcohol clouding Ava’s brain. “Because I can’t bear it when people say my words out loud. I can’t really explain it, but it embarrasses the hell out of me. Especially the line you were about to read.”
“How did you know which one I had picked?” Ava started thumbing through the book. “Are you brilliant and psychic?”
“Neither, but people can be quite predictable.”
“Really? So you knew I was going to read this one.” Ava opened the book. She opened her mouth, took a deep breath, then said, “I’m just teasing you, Charlie. I don’t know why, but I seem to derive great pleasure from doing so.” She smiled warmly. “Can I read your dedication or would you rather I wait?”
A sweat broke on her back, but she nodded. “Go ahead. But don’t read it out loud.” Charlie had spent the better part of her Saturday trying to come up with something—again. She’d finally settled on:
To Ava,
May our new friendship inspire many stories, all of them with happy endings.
“That’s so sweet. Thank you.” She paused. “Do you have time to work on a new novel now that you’re doing Underground ?”
It was a friendly enough question, and much more poignant than Ava could possibly realize, because, as much as Charlie enjoyed the experience of bringing Underground to the screen, she didn’t have enough free time to devote to other writing.
Charlie dabbed her brow. She was hit with the sudden realization that what they were trying to do was madness. Every conversation they shared made her feel closer to Ava, strengthening feelings she wouldn’t allow herself to act upon. She couldn’t even imagine confiding in Ava about how much she missed actual ass-in-chair solitary writing. Nor could she casually tell Ava about anything else going on in her life. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and chit-chat with you. It’s driving me insane.” Charlie sighed. “I have serious feelings for you, and they’re not going to disappear if we continue to be ‘friends.’ Who are we kidding?”
Ava put the book down, her fingers tracing the lines of the cover image. “Then what do you suggest?”
Saying the words felt like someone was piercing a stake through her heart. “I think we shouldn’t see each other for a while. Let things cool down a bit.”
“That’s the last thing I want to do.” Ava combed her perfectly sculpted eyebrow with a fingertip. “Tell me honestly, Charlie, are you ever going to be able to give me a fair chance?”
“I don’t know.” Charlie scratched her cheek to give her hand something to do. “I want to, so very much, but I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll screw things up even more.”
“How, though? How can it be worse than it is now? Clearly, we can’t be friends. So why don’t we just
Ava obeyed.
Part of Charlie wanted to flee this situation and the conversation they needed to have, but she couldn’t leave Ava like this.
After a few more sips of coffee, Ava’s eyes lit up. “Did you bring the book?”
“Yes.” Charlie curved her fingers around the warm mug.
“Can I see it?” Ava raised her eyebrows.
“It’s yours, so yes, although I’m not sure you’re in the right state for it.” Charlie didn’t reach for her bag.
Ava banged her elbows on the table. “Not to worry, Charlie, my moment of melodrama is passing quickly.” She let her head hang for a few seconds, her long hair obscuring everything but her shoulders. Then, with a quick movement, she flicked her head back, hair and all. “I’m my old self again.” She finished with a wide smile.
A chuckle rose all the way from Charlie’s belly. “Fine.” She dug the book out of her bag—which also held a swimming suit—and slid it in Ava’s direction.
Ava clutched the book to her chest. “My treasure.” She found Charlie’s eyes. “The other week when I wanted to read from it, why didn’t you let me?”
Charlie decided there was still a good amount of alcohol clouding Ava’s brain. “Because I can’t bear it when people say my words out loud. I can’t really explain it, but it embarrasses the hell out of me. Especially the line you were about to read.”
“How did you know which one I had picked?” Ava started thumbing through the book. “Are you brilliant and psychic?”
“Neither, but people can be quite predictable.”
“Really? So you knew I was going to read this one.” Ava opened the book. She opened her mouth, took a deep breath, then said, “I’m just teasing you, Charlie. I don’t know why, but I seem to derive great pleasure from doing so.” She smiled warmly. “Can I read your dedication or would you rather I wait?”
A sweat broke on her back, but she nodded. “Go ahead. But don’t read it out loud.” Charlie had spent the better part of her Saturday trying to come up with something—again. She’d finally settled on:
To Ava,
May our new friendship inspire many stories, all of them with happy endings.
“That’s so sweet. Thank you.” She paused. “Do you have time to work on a new novel now that you’re doing Underground ?”
It was a friendly enough question, and much more poignant than Ava could possibly realize, because, as much as Charlie enjoyed the experience of bringing Underground to the screen, she didn’t have enough free time to devote to other writing.
Charlie dabbed her brow. She was hit with the sudden realization that what they were trying to do was madness. Every conversation they shared made her feel closer to Ava, strengthening feelings she wouldn’t allow herself to act upon. She couldn’t even imagine confiding in Ava about how much she missed actual ass-in-chair solitary writing. Nor could she casually tell Ava about anything else going on in her life. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and chit-chat with you. It’s driving me insane.” Charlie sighed. “I have serious feelings for you, and they’re not going to disappear if we continue to be ‘friends.’ Who are we kidding?”
Ava put the book down, her fingers tracing the lines of the cover image. “Then what do you suggest?”
Saying the words felt like someone was piercing a stake through her heart. “I think we shouldn’t see each other for a while. Let things cool down a bit.”
“That’s the last thing I want to do.” Ava combed her perfectly sculpted eyebrow with a fingertip. “Tell me honestly, Charlie, are you ever going to be able to give me a fair chance?”
“I don’t know.” Charlie scratched her cheek to give her hand something to do. “I want to, so very much, but I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll screw things up even more.”
“How, though? How can it be worse than it is now? Clearly, we can’t be friends. So why don’t we just
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