I felt eyes on me and turned to find Evan staring. He flashed me a smile. I turned back around.
I didn’t mean to be so aloof, but with the thoughts running through my head I couldn’t make myself pretend everything was okay. I couldn’t smile and laugh and blush the way I normally would. Usually, having Evan’s attention and being on the receiving end of his endearments was enough to make my heart sing. Now it only turned my stomach sour.
There was an audible gasp in the crowd and a sudden commotion as the band came out of nowhere and took the stage. It looked like they’d come from down the hallway, but we only had Mason’s office, the storage closet, and the small kitchen back there. I didn’t know where a group of people could have been holed up.
I worried the crowd might get out of control, but they were respectful and let the band take the small stage without incident.
The music was a bit harder rock than I usually listened to, but the singer had a soft, sensual voice that made the girls swoon and sigh, and the rest of the band members were equally talented on their instruments, as far as I could tell. I could understand why they had a lot of fans.
I just wished those fans hadn’t congregated here on the one night when my emotional state was iffy at best.
I gathered a collection of empty glasses and carried them over to the bar counter, making sure to stick to Reagan’s side.
“Hey,” she called out.
I turned back to find her waving at me to come closer.
“I know we don’t know each other at all,” she said. “But are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
She examined me with a shrewd eye.
“That Evan guy told me you were his girlfriend, but you’ve been looking a little pissed off all night,” she said. “You’ve been shooting him looks like you want him to drop dead.”
I cringed. I hadn’t noticed I’d been doing that. I was upset with him, but I didn’t know yet if I had a right to be. It wasn’t fair of me to treat him like a cheating scumbag when I might have just been reading the situation all wrong.
I leaned against the bar counter and sighed.
“Has he noticed?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “We’ve been pretty busy all night. But if you’re mad at him about something, you should tell him instead of just glaring at him.”
“I don’t really know if I’m mad,” I said. “Or, I don’t know if I have a reason to be mad.”
Reagan looked at me skeptically.
“It sure looks like you do, from what I’m seeing,” she said.
“I might have made the whole thing up in my head,” I said, explaining without actually explaining anything. “He might have done something. Or he might not have. I don’t know.”
“And you can’t just ask him?” she said carefully with a raised eyebrow.
“I—” I stammered, flustered. “It’s complicated.”
“Sounds like you have some serious communication issues,” Reagan said bluntly. A customer called out a drink order, and she gave me one last meaningful look. “You might want to work on that.”
21
The night finally wound down, the band left the stage and the crowd dispersed.
“Holy shit, look how much we made tonight.” Lizzy held overflowing handfuls of bills in both hands. “Fangirls tip well! Let’s do more of these shows.”
“You really want to deal with crowds like this every night?” Grant asked with a quirk of his lips.
She made a face.
“Never mind,” she said even as she stuffed the bills into a communal jar. “Not worth it.”
“So it’s not this crazy every night?” Reagan asked.
“Not usually, no,” Mason said. “This was a special occasion.”
“Thank god,” she said. “I was beginning to wonder what I’d gotten myself into.”
“You were really great tonight,” Mason told her.
“Mason made a good choice hiring you,” Evan grinned. “And not just because the guys tip better with hot bartenders.”
“Wow, thanks,” Reagan said dryly. “Good to know my boobs are helping you rake in the cash.”
Reagan did have an ample chest, it was true.
“Time to head out,” Evan told me. “Got your bag?”
I nodded once curtly, then saw Reagan give me a look.
“Yeah, I’m ready to go,” I said out loud.
Evan was chatty on the way home, talking about the band and how busy the place was, and the interesting drink orders he’d gotten. I stayed silent.
When we got into the apartment, Evan yawned and stretched. It was late in the evening, almost closer to morning than to midnight.
“I’m wiped,” he said. “How about you? Ready for bed?”
My heart jumped into my throat.
I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing the same bed with Evan. Not if what I suspected was true. But did I really want to confront him right now, when we were both tired and exhausted from a full night’s work? Maybe it would be better to ask him about it tomorrow when I had a clearer head.
But what would I do about sleeping together tonight?
Maybe I could fake sick and sleep in the spare room? It might work. He wouldn’t think there was anything weird about that, right? Then I could put off the conversation until the morning.
I closed my eyes and scolded myself.
Reagan was right. I did have communication issues. I should have just asked him right then and there when I’d first read the texts. But I’d been scared. Scared of what he might say. Scared of the ramifications.
But I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened.
I couldn’t pretend I didn’t suspect something was going on. It wasn’t fair to Evan and it wasn’t fair to me. If he was innocent then I shouldn’t spend the night angry with him. And if he was guilty, then it was better for me to know now and not agonize over it any longer.
Evan left the bathroom, his teeth brushed and face washed.
“Your turn,” he said.
“Okay.”
“How are your feet?” His eyes twinkled. “Want a foot massage in bed?”
Bile rose up from my stomach. I didn’t speak a word.
Maybe I couldn’t do this after all.
Evan came over to me and tipped my chin up with a finger. I hadn’t realized I’d lowered my head to stare at the floor.
“There’s something wrong, isn’t there?” he asked. “You’ve been acting weird all night.”
I pressed my lips together.
“Did something happen with your parents or sister?” he asked. “Did they try contacting you?”
“No.”
“Did something happen at work?” he tried again. “Did you have to deal with a terrible customer? If someone harassed you, you know you can tell us and we’ll get them thrown out.”
“It wasn’t that.”
“Then what is it?” Evan asked.
My heart rate spiked, anxiety crushing my chest. I couldn’t make words leave my mouth. I turned around and stalked off into the living room, not able to meet Evan’s eyes anymore.
What if he was cheating on me?
What if he wasn’t?
If I asked him now, if I knew for sure, it had the potential to change everything.
My hands trembled at my sides.
“Alice, I’m getting really worried now.” Evan did sound worried, his voice insistent but wary. “Talk to me.”
I took a shuddering breath, steeling myself.
“I saw those messages.” The words came out in a whisper.
“What?” Evan asked. I’d been too quiet for him to hear.
“I saw the messages,” I repeated. “On your phone. From some girl.” I spoke in halting sentences, barely able to make the words leave my mouth in a steady stream.
“You read my texts?” Evan asked.
“Your phone was on the counter. I didn’t touch it. The messages were on the screen. I thought it was M
ason.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “But it wasn’t. It was a woman named Christie. She asked what you were doing tonight. She asked to come over.”
“Alice,” Evan said my name. Only my name. I couldn’t read his tone.
The backs of my eyes stung. I brought my arms to my chest, hugging myself.
“Who is she?” I asked, my voice thick and liquid with unshed tears.
Evan didn’t answer. He came over to the living room and stood near me, but not next to me.
“Alice,” he said again, his voice flat. “What are you really asking?”
I steeled myself.
“Are you cheating on me?” I asked.
“I can’t believe you’re even asking me that,” he said.
“You’re not denying it,” I said quietly, my heart sinking.
“That’s because it’s a ridiculous question,” he said. “I’m not cheating on you.”
A huge wave of relief washed over me, nearly leaving me reeling. I let out a whoosh of breath, my lungs burning from having held it in for so long.
“You’re not?” I repeated hopefully, just to make sure.
“Of course not!” His voice grew loud. His brows were furrowed and his eyes narrowed. “Did you really think I’d do that to you?”
“No. I don’t know. Maybe.” I wrung my hands in front of me. “I just saw a girl asking to stay over and my mind went to all these different places.”
“And one of those places was that I’m cheating.” It wasn’t a question. “I can’t believe this.” Evan started pacing around the room, a hand buried in the strands at the back of his head. “What have I ever done to make you think I’d do something like that?”
“Nothing!” I said in a rush. “You’ve been wonderful. Perfect. I just… I don’t know. It wasn’t like I was positive you were seeing someone behind my back. I just considered it as one possibility.”
“Is that why you’ve been so weird all day?” he asked. “Christie messaged me this morning. Did you go all day without talking to me about this?”
I nodded miserably.
“Why?” he exploded. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“I was afraid,” I said in a small voice. “As long as I didn’t know for sure, there was still a chance everything was actually okay. I didn’t want to risk losing you.”
He let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.
“So you were going to just keep on thinking I was cheating on you?” he asked. “For how long? How long were you going to keep this to yourself?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to ask you this morning. And then I wanted to ask you tonight. But I chickened out.” Like I always did.
“You really thought I’d cheat on you.” He said it again, as if he still couldn’t believe it.
“I’m sorry.” Tears filled my eyes. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. I didn’t want to think you’d do something like that. But can’t you see it from my point of view? A girl asked to spend the night. What was I supposed to think?”
“That it was a friend, or a family member, or anything else except another woman!” Evan shouted.
Evan never raised his voice. Not to me, or anyone else.
“I never meant to hurt you,” I said as tears spilled down my cheeks. “But you’ve never once mentioned any family members to me.”
Evan inhaled deeply, then let it out, as if trying for a calming breath. It didn’t seem to work, because when he spoke again, his voice was still full of hurt and anger.
“I can’t talk about this anymore,” he said. “I’m going to bed.”
“But—!” I protested, taking a step forward.
“No.” He shook his head. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
I reached out as he marched to the bedroom, but he jerked away to avoid my outstretched hand.
“It’s probably better if you sleep in the spare room tonight,” he said without looking back. He closed the bedroom door behind him.
My heart splintered in two. I buried my tear-stained face in my hands.
What had I done?
22
I tossed and turned all night. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, soaking my pillow. I managed to drift off somehow, and when I woke I had a few blissful seconds of reprieve before the previous night’s events came back to me. I rubbed my sore eyes and felt how puffy they were. I had no doubt they were as red and bloodshot as that first day I’d woken up to find myself in Evan’s apartment. I wasn’t hungover this time, but my burning eyes and churning stomach were the same. If I felt like I’d spent the whole night crying, it was because I had.
I laid in bed until I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to get up and face Evan. I didn’t know if an evening of sleep would change anything, if it would help calm him or alleviate some of that hurt and anger I’d seen in his eyes. I hoped it had, but I didn’t want to fool myself. I’d accused Evan of something terrible. No wonder he was mad at me.
But there was a part of me that also hurt. Of course I didn’t want to imagine Evan would do something like that, but I’d had reason to be suspicious. Wouldn’t any normal person at least stop and wonder about the fact that another person had asked to spend the night with their significant other? It wasn’t a completely unthinkable possibility.
Still, I understood why Evan would be upset. I’d read his text messages. I’d invaded his privacy. I hadn’t really meant to. I’d thought it might be an important text from Mason.
But then I’d accused Evan of cheating on me when he’d been nothing but wonderful to me this entire time. He was maybe a little closed off and tightlipped when the conversation revolved around him, always turning my questions back on myself. But some people just didn’t like talking about themselves. He cared so much about me and my problems, always reassuring me and helping me. I wished I could return the favor, but Evan’s life seemed pretty stable.
Maybe that was another reason why he’d reacted so strongly. He was so easygoing, such a low-key guy. He might not have been used to conflict or drama and didn’t know how to handle it. I could sympathize, being conflict-averse myself. I always did whatever it took to prevent any friction or disagreements. That was what had compounded this whole situation. Instead of just addressing the issue right away, I’d agonized over it until Evan had to push me to talk. If I’d asked about those messages right away would he have just laughed it off and explained that Christie was—
Actually, Evan hadn’t brought up the name Christie at all. He’d been so upset he hadn’t gotten around to telling me who she was. He’d yelled that I shouldn’t have assumed it was another woman. He said I should have thought it was one of his friends or someone in his family. Those thoughts had crossed my mind as likely possibilities, but it wasn’t totally off-base to assume it might be some girl he was dating behind my back. Has he ignored the Christie issue on purpose? Who was she, that he would keep her identity a secret from me?
The more I thought about it, the more hurt I became. It was my own fault for reading his messages and jumping to conclusions, yes, but it was reasonable for me to at least ask him about it, and I was at least owed an answer as to who that Christie woman was to him.
I sighed and rolled over on the bed, planting my face in the damp pillow. I couldn’t stay here and mope forever. I had to get out of bed and face Evan eventually. We had Sunday off because it was always a slow day, but we’d have to go back to work tomorrow. It would be best for us to talk and work things out before then.
Hopefully, Evan would give me another chance to apologize. Hopefully, he would at least consider seeing things from my point of view.
I snuck a peek out outside the bedroom door, trying to figure out where Evan was. I thought I heard some shuffling in the kitchen. He was probably making breakfast. Relieved, I grabbed some clothes and made my way into the bathroom to get showered and changed. I saw myself in the mirror and winced. I was a mess, almost as bad as that first day. My hair was less of a rat’s nest, which was one smal
l favor.
I took my time in the shower, soaping myself up and rinsing myself off three times before I shut off the water. I was procrastinating, putting off the inevitable again. Before I could lose my courage, I tugged on my dress and headed to the kitchen. Evan was already sitting down with his tablet, ignoring the two pieces of buttered toast on his plate. He didn’t look up as I stood in the kitchen doorway.
I cleared my throat.
“Good morning,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. How did a person continue a fight from the night before? I’d never done it so I had no idea.
Evan lifted his eyes briefly from his illustration.
“Morning,” he said. It wasn’t quite curt but it wasn’t his usual friendly greeting.
My palms turned sweaty, the tips of my fingers going chilly. I wrung my hands together, half in nervousness and half to warm them up.
“Can we talk about last night?” I asked.
“I’m on a deadline,” he said, waving at his tablet.
“Okay,” I said, shoulders slumping. “Can we talk later when you’re done?”
“Sure,” he said, then hunched back over his tablet.
I didn’t want to spend the entire afternoon agonizing over this, but what else could I do? Evan didn’t want to talk, not yet. We had the day off but we’d have to go back to working together tomorrow. I didn’t want to leave things like this that long, but I also didn’t want to force him.
Evan let out another one of those deep sighs through his nose.
I went to the living room and got out the book I’d been reading off and on. I flipped to the bookmarked page and tried to read, but my eyes kept wandering over to the kitchen.
There was a knock on the door. I got up from the sofa.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
“No, I will, it’s fine,” Evan said, leaving the tablet and stylus on the table.
I leaned over on the sofa to get a look at the front door. Evan opened it. A young girl stood in front of him. She smiled brightly and enveloped him in a hug. I could see the features of her face clearly over Evan’s shoulder.
Hot and Bothered (Sin and Tonic Book 4) Page 12