A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain)

AVA

“Here, Ava,” Halley says, passing me a red Solo cup as the jacuzzi jets burble cheerfully all around me.

It’s nine o’clock, and our practice session for the opening ceremony ended an hour ago. I glance into the cup and see a splash of pink wine. Drinking is still not on tonight’s to-do list, but I’d never say no to a spontaneous hot tub night with the girls.

The resort has two hot tubs—one adjacent to the heated pool and a private one that’s only for spa clients to use between treatments. The high wooden fence around the spa patio is strung with cheery fairy lights and potted evergreen shrubs reside in each corner.

Once in a while Sarah, the spa manager, invites us into the spa’s giant hot tub after hours. Tonight, it’s me and Halley, Sarah, Raven, and our special guest, Sheila. I’d found her sitting alone at the bar flipping through a magazine, and she’d been happy to dash upstairs for her swimsuit to join us.

“So how are you holding up, Ava?” Raven asks.

“Fine,” I say primly. “The accounting review seemed to go well today.”

Raven tosses her hair and smiles at me. “I wasn’t asking about the accounting review, babe. How is it spending time with him?”

My eyes flip involuntarily to Sheila.

“Hey, girl code,” she says, holding up two hands in submission. “I’m a vault. Besides, I don’t really pay any attention to Reed. I never notice how lonely he seems. Or how frustrating he is to the women he halfheartedly dates. And I sure never noticed how hot he looks getting sweaty in the corporate gym.”

The other women roar with laughter.

“So I repeat the question,” Raven presses. “How’s it going?”

“Terrible,” I grumble. “First I got drunk and chatty…”

Sarah moans in sympathy.

“Then I barfed in his presence. That was yesterday. Today I learned that I broke a piece of pottery his dead mother made for him. And while I was trying to apologize, I—” Oh, it’s too awful to say aloud, so I stick my face in my hands. “Ahkissedhim.”

“Sorry, what?” Sarah asks.

“I kissed him,” I mumble.

There’s a shared intake of breath.

“Oh Jesus,” Halley curses. “Big mistake.”

“I know, right?” I pry my face out of my hands and sip my wine. It tastes like battery acid, but that’s probably just the remnants of my hangover talking.

“Sounds like you two have some old issues to sort out,” Raven says. “Maybe it’s a good thing he showed up in Colorado again.”

“Maybe,” I grumble. “But good for whom? Reed is working through some unresolved grief, which is probably healthy. But I’m just forgetting how to be angry at him.”

“You’re right.” Sarah titters. “And forgiveness is so destructive to the soul.” She aims a playful splash in my direction.

“It is!” I argue, splashing her back. “My anger keeps me warm at night.”

They all laugh. “But what happened afterwards?” Raven asks.

“Um, guys,” Sheila whispers.

“Was it awkward?” Raven ignores her. “Or did it escalate?”

Underwater, Sheila knocks her ankle into mine. And since I’m not a total idiot—except when Reed is nearby—I turn my head to try to figure out what’s captured her attention. It takes me a moment, because I’m not expecting to see anyone at the top of the eight-foot wooden privacy fence.

Reed climbs neatly over the top, like a sexier Spiderman. He hops down onto the patio with a catlike grace that is simply unfair.

“Ladies,” he says in that husky voice. “Didn’t know I’d be crashing a party. Even Sheila is here. Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

“You were busy with the Sharpes!” I sputter. “What are you doing here, anyway?” He’s wearing a workout shirt and running shorts. And he’s incredibly, deliciously sweaty.

He peels a backpack off his shoulders and drops it onto a lounge chair. “I used to sneak in here as a teenager. I see that’s still a thing. And drinks with the Sharpes ended early, so I hit the hotel gym.”

“You work out?” Halley asks drily. “Couldn’t tell.”

He smirks. When he removes his shirt and tosses it down, too, there’s a collective intake of breath from the women in the hot tub.

I lose another fifty IQ points as his arms flex.

“Is there an easier way in here?” he asks, toeing off his shoes, leaving nothing on his ripped body except his shorts. “We used to keep a ladder in the bushes.”

“Yes, it’s called the front door. You should try it sometime,” Sarah says with a dreamy look on her face. But not so dreamy that she doesn’t point to the outdoor shower along the fence. “Rinse first. My spa is a sacred space.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Reed grabs his gym bag and disappears into the stall, while all my friends exchange funny little smiles. He emerges way too soon, wearing swim trunks and shaking water from his hair as he struts on muscular legs toward the hot tub.

“Wine?” Raven asks cheerfully.

“Sure, thanks,” Reed says. “Just don’t let Halley pour it. She’ll add chlorine.” He reaches the edge of the tub.

At the last second, Sheila scoots to her left, vacating the spot next to me.

Just when I’d decided I liked that girl.

Reed lowers his glorious body into the water beside me, and my blood pressure spikes. He’s noticeably filled out in the last decade. Not that I’m looking. In fact, I’m trying so hard not to look that I’m probably going to strain something.

“So this used to be a teenage hangout?” Halley asks.

“Sometimes. So what are we discussing on this fine evening?” He sips his wine, studying me over the rim of the cup.

I hold his gaze, because turning away would look guilty. My face begins to burn, and as I’m wondering how much he heard as he scaled the fence, his knee moves beneath the water to rest against mine. It might be just a coincidence. Or it might be intentional torture.

Either way, I vow to ignore it. Although he’s watching me with those deep brown eyes, and my whole body flashes with heat.

Maybe the water temperature is cranked up higher than usual? I make a mental note to ask Sarah if the thermometer has been acting up.

Sheila clears her throat. “We were just talking about the accounting review. Heard it went well.”

“The accounting review, huh?” A slow smile spreads across Reed’s face. “It went fine, but…” Reed shakes his head and finally breaks our staring contest. “I still can’t figure out what those evil fuckers are up to.”

Sheila wrinkles her cute little nose. “You think the buyer is hiding something?”

“I know they are. I just can’t figure out what.” He makes a gesture, and his biceps brushes mine.

Suddenly, I have goosebumps. It’s so unfair. Also unfair? His constant meddling in the Sharpe deal.

All my frustrations bubble to the surface. “Is it really so hard to believe they’d want this place just the way it is? You haven’t spent time here in a decade. Maybe they can see something you can’t. And you don’t even work in the hospitality industry. You had to ask Sheila to pull up sales data for you.”

“Uh-huh,” Reed says in a tone that’s entirely too self-satisfied. “And did you ask her what she thought about it? Sheila? Enlighten us.”

My new friend drops her eyes to her wine cup. “Well, the purchase valuation is as steamy as this hot tub.”

“So they’re overpaying?” I shrug. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Maybe the Sharpes love it here. They see a good thing, and they want to keep it. They love it so much they don’t want to let it slip through their fingers. A concept that’s tricky for you, I understand. But some of us get it.”

Reed gives me another brown-eyed stare, which I’m forced to return.

And now I want to slap myself. Spending time in his presence requires a difficult balance. The trick is remembering why I’m angry—but also holding that anger in.

Oops.

Nobody says anything for a long moment. But then Sarah rises from the water. “You know, it really is hot in here. Maybe I should move along.”

“Yeah,” Raven agrees, grabbing for her towel.

“Same,” Sheila and Halley say simultaneously. They both stand up, too.

They are all gone in under sixty seconds.

I hate my friends.

Reed doesn’t budge, of course. “We sure know how to clear a room,” he says.

“You make me insane.” I want to add, please get on the next flight.

“That’s a good thing,” he says.

“What?” I shriek. “Because you live to torture me?”

“No,” he says in a low voice. “Because you still care. It’s still alive.”

“What is?” I demand. “My anger?”

“Your fire, Ava.” He props an elbow on the tub’s edge and faces me. “Your spark. You didn’t leave our mess behind by becoming dead inside. You didn’t let your heart turn to stone like I did.”

I blink. “You did?”

“I thought so. But now I’m not so sure.” His big brown eyes study me at close range. “Sitting here with you makes me want to feel things again.”

“Which things?” I hear myself ask. It comes out sounding coy, too.

He chuckles, and his eyes take on a dirty gleam. “There are so many fun answers to that question. Are you sure you want to know?”

“No,” I say quickly.

“All right. Then I won’t tell you.”

I feel a startling amount of disappointment. It must show on my face, because Reed chuckles again. “Honey, look. Maybe there’s a way we can remember that there were more good times than bad.”

The only sound as I hold his gaze is the water burbling against our skin. There were so many good times. That’s the problem. Are you supposed to judge someone on the one awful thing they did? Or are you supposed to creak open the rusty hinges of your heart to recall all the times he was good to you?

I’m at war with myself right now, and I don’t know how to call a ceasefire. He smiles, and suddenly I see the boy I fell in love with. His wet hair and that handsome jaw are outlined against the starry sky. And his face is so familiar that I feel like crying.

“Here’s an idea,” he says softly. He tucks a damp tendril of my hair behind my ear. “Maybe we could split a pizza after class.”

My mouth flops open at the boldness of this little callback to our youth.

Then the jerk leans in and kisses my top lip so sweetly that goosebumps rise on my shoulders. He kisses my bottom lip, too.

My whole heart tips in his direction, like a boat listing dangerously on the sea. I don’t know whether to laugh, weep, or push him away.

So I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him instead.