Page 56 of Slapshot Baby

She uses that deliberately casual tone of hers that tells me she already knows the answer but wants to watch me squirm.

"She's fine."

"Fine, sure." She folds her hands. "Is she coming tonight?"

"Why would she come tonight?"

"Because she's at your apartment almost every day. Because I walked into your hospital room and your tongue was in her mouth." She ticks these off on her fingers. "Want me to keep going?"

"That was one kiss."

"One very thorough kiss."

I recall the feel of Ava’s fingers twisted in my shirt, pulling me closer before shoving me away in that hospital room.

“Ava pulled away."

Mira tears the bread in half and butters it without breaking eye contact.

"After a full minute of very much not pulling away. I had to pretend I suddenly needed to be in the hallway. Do you know how uncomfortable that was?"

"Then you shouldn't have walked in."

"The door was open, Kai."

Mom watches me like a hawk circling something interesting on the ground. Dad's phone is back in his hand.

"The interior designer?" He doesn’t look up.

"Her name is Ava, Dad."

"Are you sleeping with her?"

Leave it to Charles Donovan to skip every available lane of conversation and drive straight through the guardrail.

"Charles," Mom says, spinning toward him, meat halfway to her mouth.

"It's a simple question."

"It's an invasive question at a dinner table."

"He's thirty-two. I think he can handle it."

"No, I'm not sleeping with her," I say.

Dad puts his phone down and cuts into his chicken. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"She hasn't said yes to anything. So technically, no."

"Technically," Mira repeats, her eyebrows climbing toward her hairline.

Mom tucks a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. "What does technically mean in this context? Either she is or she isn't, sweetheart."

"She says we're friends. She's been saying it since the hospital when I asked for more. "

Mira makes a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough. "Friends don't kiss like both of you did, Kai."

I think about Ava's pulse hammering under my fingertips the night I kissed her. The small, raw sound she made when my mouth found her neck. Her fingers curling into my shirt and pulling me closer while her words shoved me backward.