[17]
Chris nearly swallowed his tongue as Everly stared at him, wide-eyed like a frightened doe. She’d been fine—great, even—a minute ago. Now that they were going to spar, though, he watched as her nerves visibly pushed forward. Sparring with Everly. Just the thought of it—Don’t. Don’t think about it. If he did, he’d be wishing he’d worn something more constricting than loose freaking athletic shorts.
He loved that she was here, trying something new. Was this her first time here or just her first kickboxing class? He didn’t come often enough to know if she frequented the place.
He’d been on the elliptical when he’d seen her walk in and nearly lost his damn footing. He hadn’t planned on taking kickboxing but couldn’t not follow her in. Belatedly, he’d wondered if it would make her uncomfortable and had almost turned around to go, but she’d seemed to calm a little when he’d suggested she breathe. It wasn’t a class he imagined her taking. You’re not supposed to be imagining her at all.
Now, he was happy he did, because he sure as hell didn’t want some other person, man or woman, and definitely not Rob, throwing punches at her. He was impressed with her ability to seize new opportunities even though he knew it scared her. Damn, he liked her. Too freaking much. Add admiration to how he felt and he was walking a dangerous line. As long as you veer to the friendship lane, you’re fine.
“Okay, so we’ll work on not reacting, not flinching. Your partner isn’t making contact, but the jabs should be fast, repetitive.”
Rob wandered over and grinned at Chris. “I’ll model it for you with my pal here.”
He took up the stance, and Chris ignored the discomfort of being on display like this, particularly in front of Everly. It wasn’t his first kickboxing class, so he was easily able to deflect and block Rob’s punches. While they danced around each other, Rob talked about stance, keeping his body loose and his core tight. From the corner of his eye, Chris saw Everly’s attention fixated on them. Warmth suffused his body and, yeah, maybe added a spring to his step.
“Nice blocking,” Rob said, still giving him that all-knowing smile that made Chris want to punch him for real.
Rob gave a few more instructions, and then Chris and Everly, like the other partners in the room, turned and faced each other, adjusted their stances, and got started. At least the other partners began.
Everly’s hands hung by her side, but she wasn’t tapping. Why had it surprised her so much that he’d noticed? He’d seen the look of surprise on her face.
“You want to punch or block?”
“Whichever you prefer.”
She wouldn’t choose. So, he did. “You punch, I’ll block. Isn’t this every employee’s dream?”
Her low laugh distracted him, but he put his hands up to block, smiling when she moved into position, started sending slow, easy jabs his way.
“Maybe if they hate their boss,” she said, her quiet smile tamed by her intense concentration.
“Loosen your shoulders.”
She did.
“There you go. Increase your pace.”
She did.
As she let go of the fact that he was her boss, she got more into it, her movement coming quicker, more naturally. When she connected with his hand, she stopped, eyes wide, and dropped her hands.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? If this were real, you’d want to hit the other person,” Chris said.
“I wasn’t actually planning on getting into a fight,” she said.
Rob showed up at their side. “Not many people really plan it. I’m Rob, by the way. This guy is my neighbor and friend, but I think he’s pretending not to know me so he doesn’t have to introduce us.” He held out his hand.
Everly shook it. “He told me who you were. He didn’t even try to hide it, so I think you’re good. I’m Everly.”
Rob’s eyebrows moved up. “Everly as in Everly Dean from the station?”
She nodded, glanced at Chris. “You listen?”
His friend nodded. “Every day. How’s the dating game going?”
Chris didn’t want her to feel put on the spot. “Aren’t you supposed to be instructing a class?”
Rob winked at Everly. “Someone needs to loosen up. Don’t apologize again if you accidentally hit him.” Rob made air quotes around accidentally.
When he walked away, Everly laughed, and Chris sucked in a breath at the sight of her face filled with genuine happiness.
“It’s nice to not be the one told to loosen up for once,” she said, wiping her brow.
He started with slow, pointed jabs, pleased when she immediately raised her hands to block him. “Do people often tell you that?”
She nodded, stepped to the side, and jabbed again. “Yup. My favorite is relax. When someone tells me to do that, I just want to say, ‘Oh, thanks, why didn’t I think of that? All better now.’”
Chris laughed, but it didn’t seem funny that people dismissed her feelings. “It’s always easy to tell someone else how to live their life.” He wasn’t referring to his own life, but the minute the words left his mouth, he thought of how often his father told him what the right steps were.
Everly executed a great cross and increased her speed. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
Choosing not to answer, he focused on moving with her, blocking her punches, and then they switched. When Rob called time and dismissed the class, Chris walked out with Everly, avoiding his friend’s curious look.
“You don’t have to walk me to my car,” Everly said. She waved to the receptionist.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “One class and you’re a tough guy?”
That brought out her laugh, the one where her eyes lit up. “That’s right. Maybe I should walk you to your car.”
“My hero,” he teased.
The night had cooled off. It was his favorite time of the day. The remnants of sunset touched the clouds like watercolor paintings, and the air felt lighter.
“Will you come back?” he asked when she stopped in front of a four-door Honda Civic. He smiled at the car. Safe, reliable. Very Everly.
Her face scrunched, and he loved the fact that she considered the question so seriously. “I’m not sure. I liked it. I just don’t love crowds. Sometimes, though, like tonight, I can forget they’re surrounding me. Do you work out there a lot?”
Chris looked back at the building, then at her. “Now and again. I was feeling restless tonight, so I thought I’d work that out.” Which sounded a lot better than I’m thinking too much about you and needed to get out of my own head.
She shifted from one foot to the other.
Don’t do it, he told himself. “Do you want to grab a drink?” He did it. Shit. You have no self-control.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, I should,” she started, looked down at herself. “I’m sweaty, and I have—”
Chris cut her off. He was sweaty, too, and spending more time with her wouldn’t help him get her out of his thoughts.
“No worries. You’ve got lots going on.” He didn’t want to say good-bye and felt like an idiot for it. Which was the only reason he could think for why he’d blurted out the next part. “I was thinking about planning a staff get-together. I feel like a lot of the employees just pass each other at shift change. It’d be fun to hang out together. Get to know each other.” Before I take off.
Surprise flashed in her eyes. Clearly more comfortable, Everly nodded. “That’d be nice.”
“Would you come?”
She tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He stuck his hands in his pockets, refusing to shuffle his feet. “You don’t like crowds.”
One side of her mouth tilted up, and his gaze caught there for a minute.
“No. But a work event is different.” She nodded, like she’d decided something in her own mind. “It would be good to do a work thing. Everyone already thinks I’m a snob.” She leaned against her car.
“Who thi
nks that?” Was the staff being hard on her? Their weekly staff meetings were pretty chill, and all of them seemed to get along, but maybe he was missing something.
She gave an atypically sassy grin, and he felt the impact in his gut like a hard kick.
“Uh, everyone? I’m not exactly Chatty Cathy.”
Chris shrugged, wanting to tell her she didn’t need to be anything she wasn’t, but before he could say anything, she pushed off the car and unlocked it.
“I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah. Okay. Have a good night.”
“You, too.” She lifted her hand and gave him a small, shy wave.
Ignoring the sounds of footsteps and people calling out to each other in the lot, Chris watched her drive away.
“Aw, you look like a lost puppy,” Rob said, coming up beside him.
“Shut up. I walked an employee to her car. Nothing more.”
Rob laughed, clapped him on the shoulder. “Sure. I’ll buy that if you’re buying the beer.”
His gut reaction was to say no, but he realized it was exactly why he’d come out tonight—get away from his own thoughts, hang out with a friend, release some energy.
“One round,” Chris said.
“I’ll take what I can get,” Rob answered.
Chris chuckled. “Story of your life?”
Rob glanced over his shoulder at where Chris had been standing, then looked him dead in the eye. “And yours, it appears.”
[18]
Everly lifted her hand to knock, then lowered it. Stupid to be anxious about visiting her parents. Stupid or not, a nest of bees woke up in her stomach, making her palms clammy and her breathing hitch. It was her mom’s birthday, and celebrations in the Dean household were wild cards. Your parents are wild cards. How she’d ended up not being more like them, no one knew. One thing she was sure of, though, when her parents threw a party, anything could happen.
It’s not a party. It’s dinner with your parents, who love you, you chicken. The last couple of weeks had given them an arsenal of over-the-table conversation topics that Everly wanted to avoid. Tomorrow night was date four out of six. She was halfway. Her mom texted more than ever, asking about the “future son-in-law candidates.” No pressure.
Forgoing the knock, she turned the handle and let herself into her childhood home. A faint chime sounded when she opened and shut the door. A mixture of comfort and chaos swirled in her chest. The scent of chili and fresh bread hit her hard, making her stomach growl. Music pumped through the house. Her dad was a nut for wireless anything, and Everly was pretty sure most of the rooms in their home were smarter than she was. She couldn’t even figure out the lights.
“There she is,” her dad greeted, coming out from the kitchen. He held his arms open, his smile genuine and wide.
Everly walked into the hug and smiled against his chest, being careful not to squish the gift bag between them. He smelled like spices and home. Running a hand up and down her back, he pressed a kiss to her head.
He leaned back, looked at her with thick, furrowed brows. He either hadn’t gone gray yet or was too vain to let it happen. She suspected the latter since his dark hair only got darker each time she saw him.
“You’re too skinny,” he said, frowning.
“Don’t start, Dad. I plan to eat my weight in chili and bread, so it’s not from lack of trying.”
He chuckled and shifted so his arm was around her shoulder and guided her toward the deliciousness coming from the next room. “We’re enjoying the sunshine in the backyard. Your mother and I invited a few extra guests,” he said.
Everly stopped in her tracks at the entryway to the kitchen where she’d eaten breakfast every morning until her teen years when she’d decided it wasn’t the most important meal of the day. “Define extra,” she said, the hair on her arms bristling.
“Come on, Evie. You know more is merrier,” her dad said.
So not her motto. As if he’d cued them, a group of people shuffled through the open double doors of the kitchen that led onto a patio. Oh God, that’s a lot of extra. Through the glass doors, she saw the yard was full of guests. Everly recognized a few of the ones greeting her in the kitchen, and her dad introduced her to the others.
Focused on breathing, their names slipped through her brain the moment the next person said theirs. Nod and smile. Why did they do this to her? She kept a viselike grip on her mom’s present, wondering why she’d agreed to come. A small family dinner. They promised. When did they ever do exactly what they said they would?
“There’s my beautiful girl,” her mom said, coming into the house, an empty margarita glass in her hand. On her way to hug Everly, she sent a quick glance to her husband, passed him her glass. “Did you tell her?”
“I was about to,” he said, smiling down at Everly.
Her chest and stomach seized at the same time like the cogs of a wheel that got locked together. Her mom wrapped her arms around her and held on tight.
“I know it’s my birthday, sweetie, but we wanted to do yours up right.”
No. Please, no. Why? “What did you do?”
Stacey’s unmistakable belly laugh tumbled into the air, and Everly felt equal parts anger and relief. Her best friend was here, which would lessen the stress, but that meant …
“We’re throwing you a party. A joint party,” her dad announced like he’d just said she got to be queen for the day.
“Let me take that,” her mother said, taking the gift bag from her hand and putting her arm around her shoulder. “Come on. We had Stacey help us with your part of the guest list, but I have to say, you don’t have a lot of friends, Evie. Hopefully, you’ll make some new ones tonight. Your cousins are here. Did you know Sam is engaged? He’s six years younger than you. It’s not typical for a man to want to settle down that young, but he’s always been an old soul.”
Despite her head wanting to implode at her mom’s steady stream of updates, Everly’s feet moved and she found herself outside in her parents’ backyard. Landscaped to perfection, thanks to a pricey gardener, the yard looked lovely. It was edged by sculpted shrubs and flowering bushes. Little lanterns hung from the pergola over the porch, lit but not standing out just yet. They would later, when the sun went down. Everly used to love sitting on the back porch with the lights, the moon, and the stars keeping her company.
She waved to cousins and acquaintances, hoping her smile didn’t come off as stiff. There were more unfamiliar faces than familiar. Pop music played, guests laughed and drank while snacking on food. Several called out greetings and happy birthdays. Everly smiled and nodded. She could have majored in the smile and nod if there’d been that option at the university.
On Everly’s levels-of-hell scale, this was fourth. Surprise parties were worse than the idea of moving back in with her parents. Scanning the yard, her gaze landed on Stacey, whose grin belied her guilt. Yeah. We’ll talk about the friendship code later. How could she not have warned her? Beside her supposed-best-friend stood their mutual friend Tara, her coworkers Mari and Mason … and Chris.
They’d invited her boss? He’s more than that now. You’re closer to him than Mari and Mason. Something swinging in the light breeze caught her eye. Hanging from the oak tree, the same one that had witnessed the great piñata massacre of her seventh birthday, was a donkey-shaped piñata. They bought a stupid piñata? How have they not figured out how much I hate them after all these years? Everly’s mouth dropped open, and the noise of the party faded against the buzzing in her ears.
“Why? Why did you—”
Her mother cut her off with a shoulder squeeze and a nudge forward. Maybe it’s just for show.
“Let’s mingle,” her mother said, oblivious to the fact that her daughter’s skin was heating up enough to start a damn forest fire.
Stacey appeared at her side, tension simmering off her normally easygoing friend. “Hey, birthday girl. Let’s get you a drink. I’ve got her, Mrs. Dean.”
Eve
rly let herself be led, mostly because she needed to be somewhere else—at home would be her preference, but for now, she’d take across the yard, away from her mother, who looked entirely too proud of herself.
“How could you not tell me?” Everly’s whisper held a jagged edge.
“I’m sorry. They sprung it on me. It was a last-minute idea, and I figured they were going to do it, anyway, so it was better to show up and have your back than send you in alone.”
Everly kept her head down but angled it toward Stacey. “If you’d told me, I could have skipped out altogether.”
Stacey stopped moving and looked Everly in the eyes. “Come on, Ev. That would have hurt them. They just wanted to do something nice for you.”
Awesome. On top of being a social moron, you’re ungrateful. Gratitude and resentment battled inside of her, staring each other down in their own corners. She didn’t like things like this. Why wasn’t that allowed without having to feel guilty? Thoughts for another time. Fixing a smile on her face, she nodded, and they walked over to their friend and her colleagues.
“Happy birthday,” Tara said, leaning in for a quick hug. “I made your favorite cake, if that helps.”
Everly laughed, squeezed her back. See? Tara wasn’t even her best friend, and she knew how she felt about parties. Thank goodness she also knows cake always helps. “It absolutely does. Thank you.”
Mari lifted her beer. “Happy birthday.” The woman towered over Everly, and her smile was a little forced. Like you’re one to judge on that score?
“Thank you.”
She repeated herself when Mason said the same. When her gaze made it to Chris, his quiet smile did something to the heaviness in her chest. Lightened it? Loosened it? She didn’t know, but her breath whooshed in and out.
“Hey,” she said. Stacey still had her fingers gripped around Everly’s wrist.
“Hey,” he said. He didn’t say happy birthday, and something about the way he was looking at her made her feel like it was intentional. Like he knew she didn’t want to hear it again. Whatever the reason, she could have kissed him for it. Whoa. Nope. No kissing the boss. That’s right up there with sticking your fingers in his mouth.
Ten Rules for Faking It Page 15