#Awestruck (A #Lovestruck Novel)

by Sariah Wilson

  “Okay.” She said it with a tone that made it clear she didn’t believe me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Aubrey grabbed a carrot from the tray and dipped it in some ranch dressing. “You used to be in love with Evan Dawson, and I don’t think it would take much to get you back to that point. If you’re not already.”

  What was that I’d been saying about being crazy and certifiable? The delusional apple didn’t fall far from the lunatic tree. “I don’t . . . I didn’t love him. I had a crush on him.”

  She popped the carrot in her mouth. “That’s not how I remember it.”

  It didn’t really matter how Aubrey remembered it. “I wasn’t capable of loving him at thirteen.”

  “Juliet was thirteen in Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Clearly she’s not my role model and shouldn’t be a role model for any teen girl.”

  “But she was the same age as you and fell madly in love. Evan was your first love. And you never forget your first love.”

  Now she was just talking nonsense. “Of course I can’t forget him. He’s sitting in the family room playing with your children. And speaking of forgetting, you said you wouldn’t interfere with my love life.”

  Aubrey had moved on to the celery. “That doesn’t sound like me at all. Did you get it in writing?”

  “Stupid lawyers,” I muttered. “No wonder Hamlet said to kill you all.”

  “That wasn’t Hamlet. It was Dick the Butcher.”

  “How do you even remember—never mind. The point is . . .” I let my voice trail off as I opened the dishwasher. Someone should get this thing running before we sat down to eat and made a bunch more dirty dishes. Like Evan said, if somebody else had done the cooking, the least I could do was some of the cleaning.

  It also gave my hands something to do while I worked through my Evan thought process. “I don’t know what I think about Evan and what’s happening with us.”

  “Explain.”

  “There are so many possibilities with him. One, he is who he says he is. He’s genuine and a nice guy.”

  “That’s my choice.”

  I paused with some silverware in my hand. “You haven’t even heard the other ones yet.”

  Aubrey sat down on one of the barstools, still going to town on the veggies. “Tell me the others.”

  “Two, he’s trying to ease a guilty conscience for how he treated me ten years ago.”

  Justin wandered into the kitchen, presumably having been chased out of the dining room for not setting the table right. “Who’s trying to ease a guilty conscience?” he asked.

  “Evan,” Aubrey said. “Ashton thinks he feels bad about what happened in high school.”

  He looked confused. “You think he’s hanging out with you now for something that happened ten years ago? As a man, allow me to tell you that guys don’t do that. Unless they’re in rehab, they’re not worried about making amends. We’re very good at compartmentalizing and moving on.”

  “Yeah. What Justin said.”

  “I don’t need you both ganging up on me. Don’t you two have some cooking or ballroom dance class to sign up for and never go to?”

  Charlotte shrieked from the other room, and Justin said, “I’ll check on her.” Then he gave Aubrey a sweet but lingering kiss that made me feel like I was missing out on something by not being in a relationship.

  “Ugh. Get a room,” I told her after he’d left.

  “Maybe later,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “But back to your list of why Evan’s doing what he’s doing.”

  “Three, and I know there’s truth to this one because he said as much, he’s using me and this engagement to keep his boss happy while he renegotiates his contract.”

  “You’re using him, too, so that one balances out even if it is true.”

  I shot her a dirty look while I put a bunch of plates on the bottom rack. “Thanks for the reminder.” Like I’d been unable to forget that fact at all recently.

  “What about option four?” Aubrey asked. “The one where he is a nice guy, he actually likes you, and he’s taking advantage of his contract situation as an excuse to spend time with you. A guy who’s using you would not subject himself to all this,” she said, gesturing around the room.

  “Do you even hear how crazy that sounds?” As if Evan was pretending to be engaged to me because he liked me. Why was my heart fluttering so hard in my chest? Like a hummingbird wanting to break free from a cage?

  Because I want her to be right.

  Aubrey frowned. “Why do you have to overanalyze everything?”

  “Because that’s how my brain works,” I said. “It is literally what I want to do for a job someday. Watch and analyze and give everybody the play-by-play.”

  “No wonder Mom and Dad tried to stop you. It’s super annoying.”

  I started the dishwasher up, then dried my hands on a towel. “I don’t know why you’re so interested in Evan and me. You don’t get a trophy for setting people up. Just in case you weren’t aware.”

  “What I would get is the chance to see my little sister happy, and that would make me happy.”

  I still thought Aubrey was wrong with her earlier assertion. That I used to love Evan. He had definitely been like a religion to me, but I hadn’t been capable of love at that age. Had I cared about him? Had we been friends? Yes. But love?

  “Even if what you’re saying is true, and I used to have some kind of feelings for him, that doesn’t really matter now. I don’t know that I can go there with him. I can’t care about him like that again and get my heart ripped out. I wouldn’t be able to take it.”

  I hadn’t realized I felt that way until I said it. And I would most definitely end up heartbroken if we dated and he found out about Brenda and the story.

  I’d already fallen hard for the guy once. I didn’t need it to happen again.

  “Well, I’ve already told you this before, but I think it bears repeating. Stop trying to be logical and rational about everything, and listen to that oxygenated blood in your heart.”

  The last time I listened to my heart where Evan was concerned, it got ripped to shreds. “The oxygenated blood just wants more iron.”

  “Maybe I should talk to him,” she mused aloud.

  “Don’t Evan think about it,” I said.

  Both of her eyebrows lifted in delight. “Do you hear yourself? You just said, ‘Don’t Evan think about it.’”

  Had I? “I did not. I said, ‘Don’t even think about it.’ That you can’t hear is on you.”

  My mother returned to the kitchen and started handing us food to carry out to the dining room. I hoped I was done with the sisterly interference for the day. When I put the mashed potatoes on the table, I glanced up to see Evan sitting with Charlotte at the tea party table my parents kept at their house specifically for her. His knees were practically in his face as he accepted a cup and saucer from her.

  I put my hand over my chest because the sight of them together was doing funny and inexplicable things to my heart.

  “Ashton!”

  I hurried back to the kitchen to grab more food, and before long my mother was calling everyone over to eat.

  The twisty heart palpitations got worse when Evan came in, holding Charlotte’s hand.

  “Everything looks wonderful, Mrs. Bailey.”

  “Thank you. And please, we’re just Brian and Stacy.”

  The one saving grace was that she hadn’t invited him to call them Mom and Dad. Although I was sure that was coming at some point.

  Our seats had been labeled with name cards, and my mom had put Evan on my left, right next to my dad at the head of the table. Rory was on the other side of me with Aubrey’s family across from us. I went to sit down, and Evan was there, helping to pull out my chair for me.

  Aubrey elbowed Justin and said, “Why don’t you do that?”

  I thanked him as I scooted back in, not missing the knowing glances between the women of my family. />
  My father said grace, and then everyone started serving themselves.

  “So, how long have you two been married, Brian?” Evan asked.

  Dad patted his stomach. “I’d say for about forty or forty-five pounds.”

  That made Evan laugh, but he was the only one. It was not the first time we’d heard that joke.

  “They’ve been married for almost thirty years,” I told him. “They’re actually going on a Disney cruise with Aubrey’s family in a couple of weeks to celebrate their anniversary.”

  “I’m going to see the real Alice!” Charlotte announced, standing up in her chair. Aubrey got her to sit back down, telling her to stay put and eat.

  “I’d rather talk about last week’s game, if you don’t mind,” my dad said. “That final run of yours at the end, that was amazing!”

  As the two men started talking football, I felt Rory nudge me.

  My hope that the sisterly interference portion of the evening was over had been misplaced.

  “Did you see your fiancé in there with Charlotte and her Alice in Wonderland tea set?”

  When my heart had melted into a million tiny puddles? “Yes. It was very cute.”

  Rory let out a slight gasp. “Is the world ending? You just called Evan Dawson cute, and I’m pretty sure that’s one of the signs of the apocalypse.”

  “Oh, ha.”

  I took the green bean casserole from her and turned to offer it to Evan. He smiled as he accepted it, brushing my fingers with his, and I nearly dropped the whole bowl due to the electric shock of his touch.

  Rory, who never missed anything, saw it but thankfully said nothing about it. “So, what did you two crazy kids not do last night? Aubrey sent me the clip. Talk about steam.”

  “I didn’t see him last night.”

  She picked up her napkin and wiped some gravy off her lip. “I don’t know how you keep your hands off him. When he walked in tonight, I was all ‘Mother, may I?’”

  “Gross. Don’t bring Mom into this.” I glanced up at the woman in question, and she was busy helping Joey cut his turkey into smaller bites.

  “Aubrey also told me he doesn’t take any of your crap. Which is good. For you to have someone who stands up to you. What was the name of that last idiot you dated? Brett? Anyway, he let you walk over him, and you didn’t respect him.”

  “Thanks for the random observation.” Which may or may not have been true, in regard to both Evan and Brett.

  “Here’s another one. Thanks for bringing Evan tonight. You’ve seriously taken the heat off me this year. Mom hasn’t asked me a single question about my love life, and I had so many great responses prepared, but I’m happy to not have to talk about it.”

  “Like what?”

  “That I’m not single but in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend, who lives in the future.”

  “It might confuse her for a minute, but she’d regroup.”

  “Last month she asked me if there were any ‘hot singles’ at my gym. I figured if she went there again, I’d tell her the only hot singles in my life are made by Kraft and go on bread.”

  Hearing my mother use a phrase like “hot singles” would be a permanent mood killer. Having been there myself, I felt bad for Rory.

  I heard Evan saying my name, and he placed his hand on my knee. Which made me buck my legs straight up, ramming my knees into the edge of the table. Hard.

  Glasses wobbled, silverware rattled. Everyone stared.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  I didn’t need to worry about my family embarrassing me. I was doing an excellent job of it all by myself.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Thanksgiving ended up going much more smoothly after that incident. There was the slight issue of me being left-handed, and I kept bumping into Evan while I ate, but even that I got accustomed to.

  After everyone had their fill, we all sat around the table and talked. Whatever initial awkwardness had existed when Evan first arrived seemed to disappear. He chatted and joked with my family like he’d been a part of it for years.

  He fit like he was a jigsaw piece sliding into the right spot.

  And I didn’t know how to cope with that.

  Then he took off his sweater, which was understandable as the room was getting a little warm. I’d assumed it was Evan causing all the sweltering heat, and it surprised me that he was feeling it, too.

  He looked so nice in his shirt that I played with the leftover food on my plate so I wouldn’t stare.

  My mom announced it was time for dessert, and I volunteered to help her out. Avoidance seemed to be my drug of choice lately. Evan was sitting next to me all handsome and funny, and now that we’d kissed, I found myself reliving it at inopportune times. And it was still difficult to reconcile all of that attraction with my fears about him and a possible relationship between us.

  The different kinds of pies—pumpkin, pecan, chocolate silk, and apple—were already sitting on a sideboard in the dining room. I helped my mother with the whipped cream and gathering up all the stuff that Evan had brought over with him. We set his ice cream sundae ingredients next to the pies.

  “Do you know what this is missing?” my mom asked.

  “Medication for type 2 diabetes?”

  “No. We have some maraschino cherries on the top shelf of the cabinet next to the stove. Can you grab them for me?”

  “Sure.”

  I found the cabinet and reached up on tiptoe to see the contents of the shelf.

  “Do you need a hand?”

  Evan’s voice behind me scared me so much that I jumped and yelped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  “I’m sorry. But I can reach that top shelf for you.”

  “So can I,” I said, reminding him that I wasn’t the kind of woman who needed a stepladder in the kitchen. I couldn’t see the cherries, but I felt around for the jar and found it. Triumph. “Aha!”

  “Isn’t there anything manly I can do to impress you? Vanquish a spider? Take the trash to the curb? Mow the lawn?”

  I tried to twist open the top of the jar, but it wasn’t budging. “I can do all those things, too, thanks.” What I couldn’t do was get the cherries open. In the past when I’d had a stubborn jar, I’d just smack the side of the lid against a countertop corner, but I wasn’t allowed to do that anymore since my mom had the kitchen remodeled.

  “Now do you need some help?” I could see he was trying very hard not to smile.

  “I’m only doing this for the sake of your delicate male ego,” I said, handing it over to him.

  He twisted the lid but came up against the same issue I’d been having. He bore down, really putting some of his strength into it.

  “And I even loosened it for you.” I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t laugh. I was also enjoying the sight of his muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt.

  Evan got a determined look on his face, and there was a popping sound as he forced the lid off. Problem was he’d used so much force that it surprised him, and he splashed himself with cherry juice.

  He put the jar down and surveyed the damage. “This is one of my favorite shirts. I guess you can’t take me anywhere.”

  “Yep, you’re a real menace to society. Come on, let’s go up to the laundry room, and I’ll get it in the washing machine before the stain sets.”

  He followed me upstairs, and I suddenly realized the issues with this plan when we got to the very small laundry room. He dominated the space all around us, his presence overwhelming.

  And as he took off his shirt, he wasn’t quick about it. No, instead, he watched me the whole time as he slowly undid each button. By the time he’d finished, I was breathing so fast I worried I might pass out.

  There was no undershirt, just Evan’s chest in all its ab-tastic, muscly fantasticness. I hadn’t appreciated it nearly enough the first time I’d seen it.

  He still had a rainbow collection of bruises on his exposed skin, and without thinking I stepped
forward to run my fingers against some of the more prominent ones. I loved the way his body felt, his rock-hard muscles wrapped in soft skin.

  Evan flinched, and I went to pull my hands away. He stopped me, keeping them in place.

  “Does this hurt?” I asked, worried.

  “Nothing hurts right now,” he said in that gruff, deep voice that made me forget my own name. He moved a step closer. “Now that you’ve gotten me out of my clothes, what are you planning to do next?”

  He was teasing, but there was a serious undercurrent to his words.

  “I . . . I’m not . . . I wasn’t . . .”

  “Why are you so afraid to get close to me?” he asked as he reached up with his free hand to run his fingers along the side of my face. “Why do you jump every time I touch you?”

  Because that kiss yesterday had set my calves on fire? And I hadn’t known that was even possible?

  “Maybe I don’t want to tempt you.” I was aiming for light and jokey, but I wasn’t pulling it off. Instead, even I could hear the shakiness in my voice and how fast I was breathing.

  “Too late.”

  I don’t know what made me suddenly want to be truthful with him, but I did. I averted my gaze. “It’s because of how you make me feel when you touch me.”

  He reached under my chin, forcing my eyes up to meet his. “I feel it, too. So what are we going to do about it?”

  Rory walked by us in the hallway, coming to a stop when she saw what we were doing. Her eyes wide, she mouthed, “OMG!” to me. She was holding Charlotte’s hand, and the sight of my impressionable niece helped bring me back to my senses. I pulled my hands away and reached for his shirt.

  “I’m going to, um, wash this now. In that thing we have for cleaning clothes.”

  “The washing machine?” he asked, the amusement evident in his voice.

  “Yep. That’s it. The washing machine.” I got the stain remover and soaked the red juice on his shirt with the spray. My mom’s machine had one of those little drawers for small loads, and I put Evan’s shirt in, along with some laundry detergent.

  “Stay here,” I told him when the machine started. “I’ll see if I can find one of my dad’s shirts.”