“No, you won’t,” I whisper, leaving before I give in to my compulsion to physically restrain her.

“All right?” Sam asks when I reach the front door.

“Fine. What are you still doing here?”

“I thought you’d need some company while you stew for the next few hours.”

“Good,” I reply. “I do.”

“She’s in love with you, Jesse.”

“That won’t stop some young prick making a pass at her. Or her drinking. Or, apparently, her fighting me at every fucking turn.” I pass him, stalking to my car. “Where are we going?”

“Your place?”

“I’ll call Drew.” I reach for my phone.

“Don’t bother.”

I frown. “Why?’

“He’s taken that girl out. The one Ava works with.”

“The one who looks like she’s got a stick up her arse?”

“More like a tree trunk.” Sam stops me from getting in my car, his hand on my shoulder. I know what’s coming, so I get in first.

“I’ve asked her to the anniversary party,” I say, and his head retracts. “Therefore, I have to tell her about The Manor in the next two weeks.”

He nods. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“Am I?” I haven’t a clue what I’m doing these days.

Sam shrugs. “What else can you do?”

“Keep my secrets.”

He laughs. “The Manor is a pretty big fucking secret to keep.”

The Manor has nothing on the rest of the surprises I have in store for Ava.

Nothing.

Sam completely bypasses the fridge when we enter the kitchen, heading for the kettle and flicking it on. I roll my eyes at his back as he goes about making tea, plonking myself on a stool, spinning my phone in my grasp.

“Chill the fuck out, will you?” he says without turning away from the worktop.

My hand stills. “I’m fine.”

He laughs, squeezing the tea bags and dumping them in the bin. “Sure.”

I get up, restless, and start pacing the kitchen, glancing at my Rolex. She’ll be in a bar by now. Drinking. Being admired. “How’s Kate?” I ask out of nowhere. I need to distract myself or there’s a high possibility of me tracking Ava down and making sure she’s okay, and we all know that won’t go down very well.

Sam turns, two mugs in his hands, his head slightly cocked. “Do you actually care?” His eyes follow me as I make another circuit of the island.

“Of course I care.”

He huffs, slipping the tea onto the counter. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate, mate. Or, alternatively, royally fuck it up.”

I halt pacing, chewing my lip incessantly. “Fuck it up how?” I need to stop asking dumb questions.

“I can see you’re a heartbeat away from hunting her down.”