“Me? What the fuck was that, Ava?” “What was what?!” “You and Wes," I say in hissed tones, punching the button for the elevator. “He was being nice! God forbid, right? We were just talking about the pageant and—” “That man gave zero fucks about pageants. His eyes were glued to your tits. He wants to fuck you, Ava.” She throws my hands in the air in irritation. “At least someone wants to!” With her words, my body goes stiff, but Ava ignores it, continuing on. “At least someone wants me, shows interest in me. At least someone is fucking going for it.”
