Moving Forward

Chapter Twenty-Two

For a change, Kyle is the first one to tank out of the group. Axel had to pull him off the table before he started dancing to Lady Gaga's, Poker Face. Considering the terrible structure of the table, that wouldn't have ended well. And by that point, Charlotte gave her best wishes to us before running home to make curfew.

It's surprising considering we were supposed to be getting Tori smashed. Either way, they're both going to feel terrible in the morning.

Kyle stumbles out of the pub and falls into the back of the uber car. Blake and I quickly follow into the backseat as Tori says goodbye to Jude. She nabs the front seat and sloppily tries to put the belt buckle in. After a few failed attempts, the young driver helps her.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

I lean across the console to give him directions to my house. He plugs the details in and starts running the monitor.

Kyle sprawls across my lap and even manages to rest his arms on Blake's knees. With a chuckle, he shakes his head and smiles.

Since my parents are away for the night, somehow, we've managed to reach the conclusion that they should spend the night with me. Kyle dibs the couch which one up from the cold floor he was planned to sleep on.

When we get to mine, I shove Kyle out of the car and drag him to the front door. Blake settles the bill and then scoops Tori out of the front seat. While that's happening, I manage to get Kyle to the couch before he passes out. I fish out a blanket from the cupboard before heading upstairs.

Blake carries Tori up the stairs and then sets her down. She shakily takes a couple of steps before clinging to the bedroom door frame.

He disappears into the bathroom, leaving me to deal with Tori.

"Let's get you to bed," I comment.

"Okay." She nods.

Tori takes a deep breath and then places one foot in front of the other. She manages to get inside my room but knock into my side table. Logan's journal wobbles before tumbling to the ground.

The book falls open to a random page which catches Tori's scattered attention. She unsteadily picks up the book and flops onto the bed. I oversee a portrait of a young girl etched in a led pencil. The rough design is intricate enough that I see the similarities in the face structure.

"The drawing looks like you," I say. "Were you in an art class with Logan?"

Tori shakes her head, then looks at me.

"Hm, I think I remember seeing him on the bleachers. We used to practice when the art students were sketching outside," she explains. "Otherwise, I don't know."

"Oh, that makes sense then." I slowly nod my head.

Tori closes the journal and hands it to me. I quickly put it in the drawer to keep it safe. It's one of the last things I have left from Logan that means something, I don't want to lose it.

"Goodnight." I smile.

"Goodnight, Ava." Tori wraps herself in my blanket while I turn off the light.

I close the door before walking into the guest bedroom. The first thing I notice is Blake stretched across the middle of the bed; typical.

Kicking my shoes off, I flop into bed and shove him over. Blake immediately engulfs me into his arms and snuggles up. I wrap my body around his and get comfortable. His lips skim over the side of my neck which gives me chills. I manage to wiggle away before his lips reach mine.

"What's wrong?" he asks. "Have I done something?"

"We're in my brother's old bedroom," I explain.

Blake immediately jumps back and places a pillow in-between us for good measures.

"Shit, I didn't realise," he mutters. "This room looks so different."

"Mum eventually decided to convert his room into a guest bedroom. I think she was hoping for a nursery at some point." I sigh.

"One day, Ava, one day." Blake's thumb strokes my cheek.

"Do you think we would have been good parents?" I ask.

"London is doing fine because we are amazing parents." He chuckles.

"Do you think about him?" I question.

"I think about you both all the time," he whispers.

Blake's hand travels down to my waist and then eventually grabs my hand and squeeze it. I sigh happily as I squeeze back.

"Sometimes I daydream about who he would have been. Is that weird?"

"No," Blake answers. "He would have grown up to be an AFL star, I'd take him to practice every Saturday and then kick the footie after school every day." He smiles.

I poke his chest and glare. "There's no way I'd let you pressure him into playing sport!"

"Ivan would be begging his awesome father to teach him how to play sport, he's a Rivers after all." Blake shoots me a wink.

"Yes, and a Greyson, so, perhaps a lawyer or an artist?"

"Artist? You draw stick figures for everything. Remember that game of charades we played?" Blake laughs.

"Hey, the art gene skips a generation." I pout.

"If that helps you sleep at night." Blake tickles my sides.

"Anyways, you look tired," I comment.

Blake sleepily nods his head and yawns, "That's because I am."

While Blake gets comfortable, my mind wonders back to Tori's reaction. Logan had a secret lover, could it have been Tori? It does check out . . .

"Blake, did you ever see Tori and Logan together?"

Blake rolls onto his back and stretches out.

"Tori was liked by many guys, my brother included. The father could be anyone."

"What are you talking about?" I gasp.

Before another word is uttered, soft snores escape his parted lips. Perhaps there's more to the mystery than I originally thought? I'm afraid of investigating because I know what happened last time I started meddling with things . . . but I need answers.

What do you think Blake's talking about?