Dear Ava Read online Ilsa Madden-Mills

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, New Adult, Romance, Sports, Young Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
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Her red blazer with the Camden dragon crest is draped over her arm, her white blouse snug around the fullness of her breasts. On her feet are ragged black Converse. My gaze lingers, taking in the tall white socks on her calves.

“Why are you staring at her like that?” Chance hisses at me, standing on my other side.

“Like what?”

Who is she deep down? To walk into this place, eyes lit with a vicious edge.

My hands curl.

She’s so sweet.

So forbidden.

“Like you’re fascinated or some shit.” His voice is hushed.

“Mmmm,” I murmur.

I can feel him still watching me watching her as he says, “Leave her be.”

I narrow my eyes at her, not even listening to him, feeling annoyed by the vulnerable hunch in her shoulders that grows, the one she keeps attempting to straighten as she walks closer to us.

I shrug, keeping the movement cool and light. “She’s definitely a spark that just might ignite and catch fire.”

“And burn us all down in the process,” Dane mutters. “I agree with Chance—stop.”

“Can’t do it,” I answer under my breath. I lick my lips, battling internally to drop my gaze from her, feeling baffled by it.

She came back, she came back, she really did it.

Chance’s jaw pops as he watches her, grappling with control.

She seems rooted to her place in the hall, sweeping her eyes over us. Students jostle past her, giving her a wide berth.

Come on, little Ava.

Come closer to me, fierce girl.

One more step.

Let me touch you. On the arm. Your hand. Anything.

Please.

My fingers twitch.

“I can’t believe she’s back,” Chance grunts and looks at me, keeping his voice low so she can’t hear us. “Did you know?”

“Why would you think I’d know?” I say dryly.

“Because you always know shit. Your dad is on the board.”

I laugh. Oh, if he only knew the information I have—all of it about defiant, charity case Ava. I have so many details about her life it makes my head spin, makes my cock hard—

Stay far, far away.

Chance’s chest rises. “My father took my car away after that party. I still don’t have it—when I did nothing wrong. She was my date, and that was all it took for him to judge me and hold me responsible.”

Yeah, but he left with Brooklyn.

Annoyance tugs at me. “Weren’t you in love with her?”

He inhales sharply, but his voice is subdued. “No.”

Liar.

I chuckle under my breath.

My gaze lingers on her heart-shaped face, watching as she stumbles, her feet pushing forward and stopping about four feet from us, staring at Chance. Hate flows from her, almost palpable. Hot. Electric.

He pales and his throat bobs, some of that anger leeching out of him and turning into…hmmm, fear? Nothing ruffles him these past months like someone bringing up Ava, and seeing her for the first time since that night—well, he looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

He drops his eyes.

“You over her for real?” I stare at him hard.

“Fuck yeah.”

Last year, he was totally lost in Ava. I saw it when he gave her puppy dog looks in class, and shit, even I heard angels singing when she gazed back at him. I saw it when he’d throw down his helmet after a game and dash over to pick her up and twirl her around. He talked about her constantly, how he thought she might be the one. He didn’t brag about his sexual conquests with her. No, he kept that under wraps.

He and I have been best friends since our days at the elementary campus. When I showed up one day in middle school with my face in stitches, swollen and red, and he asked me what the hell happened, I told him it was nobody’s business. He accepted it, made it his own personal crusade to tell everyone to Back the fuck off and stop asking. When he lost his mom sophomore year to cancer, I stayed by his side for weeks, playing mindless video games and talking about nothing to ease him. I know what death is, the grief it brings.

Chance’s jaw grinds. “I never thought I’d see her again.”

I stare down at my phone. “Yet here she is. Random factoid: did you know date rape drugs wear off pretty fast?”

Chance flinches. “Just stop, Knox. She wasn’t assaulted. She lied.”

“Mmmm,” I murmur.

Dad easily obtained the police report for Dane and me after her interview and everyone else’s at the party. I know about the bruises on her inner thighs. I know she doesn’t remember much. And those police interviews with the players? A fucking joke, or at least I think so, though it was a tense few days with my dad’s scrutiny squarely on us for the first time in a while. Dane was one of the guys dancing with her in the video, and then there was my predicament. Still, once our obligatory interview with the cops was over, Dad flew us to LA for a U2 concert as if nothing had happened.


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