so bad. I never knew what brought me here—or why—until I saw you outside the pub. And I don’t go out much. But it was like something drew me there that night. That’s when it all made sense.”
“So you went to Sam Houston State in Huntsville with me, but you never came to Houston until after your husband died?” I found it odd, but not totally unimaginable. Maybe she was from Dallas or something.
“It’s complicated,” Ava offered, sitting up in the bed. “I’ll share it with you. Maybe when you have more time.” My leaving was still smarting to her. As I looked at this hauntingly beautiful woman, a hollow feeling formed inside at the thought of walking out that door. But I had to. Being here…and doing this, while instinctual and so natural, was wrong.
“Where are you from?” I asked, giving up on trying to remember her from college.
“A little town in Louisiana. Pouppeville.” she answered. Jacobi was at least right about that. She was one of those Louisiana girls.
“Pouppeville? Never heard of it.”
“Yeah. I get that a lot,” she said with a chuckle to herself.
“Can I ask you something else?” I floated while putting my tie back on. It smelled of her as did the rest of my clothes. One of many reasons I never considered cheating on Dawn until now. Too many problems like this to manage.
“Please do. I want you to know me as I know you,” Ava replied. Odd phrasing. Almost as if she’d lived abroad.
“No offense, but am I a rebound or something to make up for your husband?”
She reflected on it for a moment, but calmly answered, “No. You are more than that, Chase. I don’t know how much time I have here. But you are for me. I know it in my heart. If anything, my husband’s death reminded me to not take second chances for granted.”
“Did you love him?”
“With all my heart.”
“Was he an artist too? I’ve been doing some research on Charla Nuttier, but there’s not a lot out there.”
“No,” she replied with a giggle as she rose from the bed. “He was a musician.”
I followed Ava as she boldly bounded, unclothed, down the hallway. I grinned at the jiggle of her ass cheeks and her total comfort with me. “What did he play?” I asked. I knew dwelling on him wasn’t a good thing, but I was putting forth the effort to learn something about her beyond my odd feelings and her being sensational in bed.
“He was a pianist. Famous,” she said, coming to a halt before entering the living room. She turned to look into my eyes. Had to see the surprise in them.
“Wow. I used to play the piano,” I offered, not quite sure why I would volunteer such a thing.
“Do you still play?”
“No,” I answered abruptly. “And I was far from famous. Stopped a long time ago.”
“Why?” she asked, appearing shaken by my admission.
“I have my reasons,” I replied. “Like you said, maybe we’ll talk about it when I have more time.”
“Very well,” Ava said, seemingly satisfied that we’d have other times to ourselves. It pleased me too. She finished walking me to her door, where she held her arms out for a hug. Both of us knew that wasn’t how this would end as I stepped closer. We kissed madly, like glowing schoolkids on a second date, before I pried myself away. She relented, unlocking the front door and stepping aside. I gripped the door frame on my way out and turned to say my formal good-byes.
“When?” she asked, speaking through the space in her door to where passersby couldn’t enjoy the sights I was beholding.
“We’ll see,” I replied, my head swirling as I went about preparing for my trip home.
Back to my car, I called Jacobi.
“What up, man?” he answered.
“Hey. If Dawn asks, we were playing racquetball today after work.”
“So you actually did it, huh?” he responded.
“Yes.”
“How was it?”
“Good,” I replied, understating things after a pause.
“Uh-huh. Why do I get the feeling this is more than a HIQI,” he said,
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