by Elle Kennedy
“Sure you do. You’ve been closed off to the idea of love since Bryce. You use sex as a way to keep a distance.”
“Um, the way I see it, sex kind of brings people closer together. No?”
“Not when there’s no intimacy involved. Look at what you’re doing, Em. You had sex with Evan and now you’re running away like a thief in the night.”
“I have an early flight,” I protest.
“Bullshit. I saw the way you were looking at him at the rehearsal dinner, and then again at the reception.” She softens her tone. “I’ve known Evan for almost two years. He’s a good guy. And I think you’ll regret it if you don’t give him a chance.”
“I have to go home, Marce. There’s this huge project at work I need to finish. I don’t have time to date.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” She shakes her head in disappointment.
Ugh. I much prefer when people are pissed at me. I don’t handle disappointment well.
“Look, you lucked out with Devon,” I say. “He clearly worships the ground you walk on. And yes, I like Evan. We get along.” I put down my cup. “I’m glad I met him, and I’m glad I finally got to meet Devon. I’m so happy that you found your forever person. And when we’re back in the city, I promise I won’t let another two years go by without seeing you.”
She nods. “Me neither. It’s unacceptable.”
“Unacceptable,” I echo. “But just because you’re a wifey now doesn’t mean I want the same thing.”
“He’s not asking you to be a wifey,” she sputters. “He wants a date.”
“Sure, and one date leads to another, and then another, and the next thing you know . . .” I lean in and gently tap the gold band on her ring finger. “I don’t want that right now.”
“Sounds like more excuses to my ears. But I can see I’m not going to win here, so . . . fine. Don’t go out with him.”
Both our spirits are a bit low as we finish our coffee and head back to the lobby, where I line up an Uber. I feel guilty that I didn’t say goodbye to Evan in person, but I did leave a note on the hotel stationery for him. Pretty much saying I had a good time, it was awesome meeting him, and good luck on his next trial or some bullshit.
Fuck, I really am a coward.
“Are you sure about this?” Marcy asks when we step out into the early-morning chill. She’s not wearing a jacket, so she wraps her arms around her chest to ward off the cold.
“Positive.” I glance over to see my Uber pulling up. “I should go—I don’t want to miss my flight. And you need to get back inside before you catch a cold.”
We exchange a long hug. “I love you, Em,” she says. “But I think you’re an idiot.”
“I love you, too, and I think you’re wonderful.”
I give her one last squeeze before sliding into the car.
The GPS on my phone says we’re ten minutes from the airport. We’ve already been driving for about thirty, and I chose to sit in the back so I wouldn’t have to make conversation. It’s way too early for small talk.
The driver’s choice of radio stations only makes matters worse—it’s a country/country pop music station, which means a lot of Luke Bryan and Carrie Underwood and Garth Brooks. Not exactly my cup of tea, but I lean back and close my eyes and try not to think too hard about why I’m on my way to the airport.
It’s not until a familiar crooner wafts out of the car speakers that my eyes snap open.
“Dammit, Willie,” I mutter under my breath.
The driver twists around. “What was that?”
“Nothing. I was just . . . talking to the song. It’s one of my favorites.” My tone is grudging.
“I prefer the Elvis version,” she reveals.
Of course she does.
“Do you want me to turn it up?” She does it, anyway, despite my lack of response, and Willie’s voice gets louder.
I sit back and listen as he sings about his regrets, wishing he’d acted differently, lamenting about all the wasted time, and a lump of emotion fills my throat. I don’t know if Marcy’s right and I’ll regret not giving Evan a chance. I don’t know if Evan is my happily ever after. I don’t know if happy endings even exist. I mean, my dad sure didn’t get one. But that’s my dad, not me.
So no, while I can’t be sure that Evan is my forever person, I’m pretty damn positive that Willie Nelson would kick my fucking ass if I didn’t at least try to find out.
10
What a difference one hour makes. The Blue Valley Lodge is humming with activity when I return to the hotel. At six a.m., it was dead. At seven a.m., there’s a throng of people milling in the lobby. I spot a tousled-haired Robin at the front desk, looking sleepy. I remember her saying she had an early flight to Florida today. An actual early flight, and not the one I paid extra to get on. By the way? Having to pay another hundred and fifty dollars to make another change to get back on my original flight? Marcy is right—I am an idiot.
“Morning,” I murmur as I pass one of Marcy’s uncles on my way to the front counter. I greet the available clerk with a half-hearted smile. “Hi. I checked out online already, but did anyone come downstairs to bring the keycard back? Room three-oh-nine.”
He types something on the computer and checks the screen. “Yes, actually. A gentleman dropped it off about ten minutes ago.”
Shit, I was hoping he might still be in my room. More so, I was hoping he hadn’t read my stupid note. “Okay, thank you. Did you happen to see where he went?”
“Sorry, I’m afraid I didn’t.”
“Okay. Thanks, anyway.”
I give the lobby another scan. No Evan. So I wander into the restaurant, and this time I see him. Standing in front of a table of croissants, loading a plate. His hair is messy, and I think I spot a hickey on his neck, which brings a flush to my cheeks. I was sucking pretty hard on every part of him last night.
Without hesitation, I race over to him and blurt out, “Yes!”
His eyes widen at the sight of me. “Wha—”
I cut him off. “Yes, I’ll go out with you. I’m saying yes, okay? I want to have dinner with you in D.C. Like, actual dinner, it’s not code for me wanting to fuck you again. Well, I want that, too, because you know how much I love your dick, but—”
His cheeks turn bright red, and that’s when I stop.
Because the Evan I know would never blush at the mention of sex.
“Devon,” I say with a sigh.
“Yup.” He gives me a jovial salute, and once again I can’t fathom how these two are twins. One exudes buckets of sexual charisma, and the other does things like salute.
“So. I’m guessing all that was meant for my brother . . .?” He lets the question hang.
“Um, yes.” I shove a strand of hair out of my eyes. “Have you seen him this morning? I heard he already came downstairs.”
“He’s right over there.” Devon nods to the left, and I follow his gaze all the way to the floor-to-ceiling windows across the room. The windowpanes are covered with white frost and snowflakes. It started snowing around the time I got back, but it looks like it’s picking up.
Evan is alone at a table, gripping a mug with both hands. His expression is stormy, signaling he’s pissed. It doesn’t take a Marcy to figure out why.
“Thanks,” I tell Devon.
He smiles wryly. “Good luck.”
I touch his arm gratefully, then straighten my shoulders and leave the buffet area. Suspicious gray eyes pierce into me as I approach Evan’s table.
“Hey,” I say sheepishly.
He just cocks one eyebrow and takes a sip of his coffee.
“Yes, I’m an asshole,” I inform him. “I’m well aware of this.”
Finally he speaks. A low, bitter drawl. “That’s the second time you’ve snuck out and left me in bed alone.”
“I know.” I bite my lip. “I guess it doesn’t help that I left a note?”
“Nope.”
“Okay. Well. Does it make you feel be
tter to know that I just told your twin brother I would go on a date with him and that I love his dick?”
Evan makes a strangled sound, as if he’s trying to choke down a laugh. “I bet he loved that.”
“I think I scare him.”
“You scare me.”
I eye him in challenge. “No, I don’t. You’re a courtroom shark, remember? You wouldn’t let a little thing like me scare you.”
“Well, I’ve put myself out there a dozen times these past two days and you’ve rejected me every single time, so yeah, you’re a bit terrifying, Emilia.”
I pull out the chair next to him and sink down on it. I lean forward, rest one hand on his knee, and use the other to gently pry the mug out of his hand. When I lace my fingers through his, he resists at first, but then his grip slowly loosens.
“Look. Evan. I’m not good with relationships or the idea of falling in love,” I confess. “I’m not open to it, and apparently I use work as an excuse to not get serious with anyone and sex as an excuse to avoid intimacy, which is stupid because sex is intimacy but Marcy says it’s not and she’s my new therapist.”
His laughter finally slips out.
“But I do like you and I’d like to go on a date with you,” I finish.
“Only one?”
“Seriously?” I say in frustration. “That’s all I can commit to right now, Evan! We literally met two days ago. I just told you I’m open to the idea of falling in love with you.” I scrub both hands over my eyes. “I came back this morning because I was in an Uber and Willie Nelson came on, our song came on.” I groan into my hands. “We already have a song! What more do you want?”
I blink when he tugs my hands away from my face. His dimpled grin greets me. “I’m just fucking with you. Let’s start with one date and see what happens.” He chuckles to himself. “What time is your flight today?”
“Four-thirty.”
“To Reagan or Dulles?”
“Dulles.”
“Sweet. We’re on the same flight. I’ll try to switch seats so we’re sitting together.” He flashes his pearly whites again. “We can discuss our date on the plane, maybe pay for some of that obscenely priced wi-fi and look up restaurant reviews. I’ve got some ideas already.”
My lips twitch in humor. “Are you always this involved in the planning of a dinner date?”
“When it’s the first and potentially last date we’ll ever have? Fuck yeah, I’m going all out for this. I need to impress you if I want date number two, and then three, four, five—”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself again. AKA scaring me.”
He brings his lips to mine, giving me a fleeting kiss before saying, “Relax, Emilia. It’s just dinner.”
Epilogue
Other Titles by Elle Kennedy
Elle’s international bestselling book, THE DEAL, is currently FREE. Download your copy today!
Have you read Elle’s bestselling Off-Campus series and it’s spinoff, Briar U? Try it out today!
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The Deal (Garrett’s book)
The Mistake (Logan’s book)
The Score (Dean’s book)
The Goal (Tucker’s book)
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The Chase (Summer’s book)
The Risk (Brenna’s book)
The Play (Demi’s book)
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For all the m/m fans out there, check out HIM and US, New Adult hockey romances co-written with the fabulous Sarina Bowen.
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Killer Instincts
Outlaws
Out of Uniform
After Hours
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About the Author
A New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author, Elle Kennedy grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a BA in English from York University. From an early age, she knew she wanted to be a writer and actively began pursuing that dream when she was a teenager. She loves strong heroines and sexy alpha heroes, and just enough heat and danger to keep things interesting!
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Say Yes
Copyright © 2018 by Elle Kennedy
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews.