“Let me help,” I told him.
“I’ve got it,” he said.
His phrasing wasn’t exactly warm, but he hadn’t snapped at me, at least.
I waited until the living room was cleaned up, then I cleared my throat.
“Can we talk now?” I asked softly.
Evan eyed the closed door to the spare room. I knew he wouldn’t want to hash this out in front of his sister, but he probably also knew she’d give him a piece of her mind the next morning if he wasted this opportunity to talk in private.
“All right,” he said with a heavy sigh.
Neither of us sat down. We stood facing each other, like a stand-off in those old cowboy westerns. That comparison didn’t put me at ease. I didn’t want Evan and me to be on opposite sides. I wanted us to be on the same side. Evan and me against the world.
“I want to apologize again,” I started. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know you didn’t mean to,” Evan said. “But you did.”
I wrung my hands together, twisting and entangling my fingers in a fidgeting motion.
“Will you let me explain why I jumped to all those conclusions?”
Evan’s mouth twisted, but he nodded once.
I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts.
“When I walked into Sin and Tonic that night, I thought I’d messed up everything.” I lowered my head, remembering the awful feelings that had been swirling inside me, the feelings that drove me to get black-out drunk. “I knew my parents would never forgive me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back home unless I did what they wanted. I knew they didn’t care about what I wanted. They’d never really cared about me at all. They only cared that I did what they said and acted like an obedient daughter. I’ve never felt cared for. I’ve never felt like someone actually cared about me, as a person.” I lifted my eyes to meet Evan’s. “Until I met you. For some reason, you cared about me, right from the start. You worried about me, and reassured me, and protected me. And I never really knew why. You’ve been so wonderful. And I think a part of me has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something deep inside me was always waiting for that moment when I’d find out you didn’t really care about me after all.”
Evan’s face went blank, and I couldn’t tell if he was upset, or surprised or anything else.
“It wasn’t a conscious thought,” I hurried to continue. “It was just something in the back of my mind, always wondering when this daydream was going to end. And then I saw those messages and it was like all of my worst nightmares had come true.” Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe you’d hurt me like that. But at that moment, I went back to that dark place where no one cared about me. And it was terrible and heartbreaking, and yet somehow it felt inevitable. As if there was no way someone like you could possibly care about someone like me.”
Evan’s blank expression contorted into something pained.
“Alice…” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back with a heavy sigh. When he opened them again, that unreadable face and those distant eyes were back to their usual warmth. He held out his arms. “Come here.”
The tears spilled down my cheeks as I launched myself into his arms, clinging to him desperately. I let out a sobbing breath as he cupped the back of my head.
“I had no idea you felt that way,” he murmured.
“I didn’t know I felt that way,” I whispered. “It wasn’t until you got mad at me that I think I realized I’d been expecting something like that all along. I’d disappointed my parents, disappointed my sister, disappointed Jacob and his family. It only made sense that eventually, I’d disappoint you, too.”
“You’ve never disappointed me,” Evan said. “I’m proud of you. I’m in awe of you, actually. You’ve come so far in such a short time.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” I said. “I still feel like that useless, hopeless, naïve, and sheltered girl. I’ve never even had proper pizza before tonight!”
Evan chuckled softly and sifted his fingers through my long, blond strands.
“You’re getting there.” He pulled back enough so he could meet my eyes. “I have to apologize, too.”
I shook my head. “No, you don’t.”
“I do.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “And I want to explain why I reacted so badly.”
“I understand,” I said. “I accused you of something terrible.”
“It wasn’t just that.” He averted his eyes. “It’s that accusing me of cheating was a sore spot for me.”
I waited patiently for him to continue.
“I don’t really talk about this with anyone,” he said softly before falling silent.
“You can talk to me about anything,” I said. “You know my entire sob story. You know everything about me. I want to know more about you.”
“My dad cheated on our mom.” He said it bluntly. “It wasn’t just the one time, either. She thought they were happy and that everything was fine.” His whole face screwed up into a scowl. “It turned out he had an entire other family. My mom found out and he left us. For them. It really hurt her.” He said the words evenly, but from the tightness in his voice, I knew he was understating it by a large degree.
I noticed he didn’t say anything about himself. He didn’t say anything about how he felt about his dad leaving them.
“Our mom hasn’t really been the same since,” he continued.
“Is that why…” I hesitated but powered on. “Is that why Christie is staying with us? Is something going on with your mom?”
Evan pressed his lips together, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to answer.
“It’s just tough for her when our mom gets in a mood.” He lifted a shoulder, trying to sound casual. “I hope you don’t mind her showing up out of the blue and staying for a few days.”
“Not at all,” I said. “I’m the interloper, crashing at your place.”
“I want you to consider this place as much yours as mine,” Evan stated firmly.
A giddiness bubbled up in my stomach, and I nearly burst with joy.
“Does that mean you forgive me?” I asked hopefully.
Evan pulled me back into his arms, cradling me to his chest.
“Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry I got so upset. We should have talked this out yesterday and not gone to bed angry.”
“I don’t know if I would have been able to explain what I was feeling if I hadn’t had a night to process everything,” I told him. “I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling.”
We stood there in each other’s arms, enjoying the long embrace. Eventually, I let out a yawn.
“Time for bed?” Evan asked, letting me go and tugging me down the hallway.
Once we’d brushed our teeth and washed our faces, we both climbed into bed and immediately resumed our cuddling. Evan lay on his back and I lay on my side, pressing against him, one leg slung over his with my cheek resting on his shoulder. He ran a hand up and down my back in a soothing motion. I let out a small sigh of contentment.
Evan cared about me so much. And I cared about him. I didn’t think I’d ever cared about someone like this in my life. I’d certainly never felt this happy, this content, this safe, this loved…
My mind came to a screeching halt.
Love?
The word popped into my head without warning.
I’d had thoughts close to those before, of course. I’d thought about Evan being my happily-ever-after. But I’d never explicitly used the L-word before, not even in my own mind.
I knew Evan cared for me. But did he love me?
Did I love him?
The longer I ran that word through my head, the more I played with it and contemplated it, the more comfortable with it I became.
I did. I did love Evan. I loved him in the “I’m in love with you” sort of way. I wanted to be with him forever. Endless movie nights, and morning breakfasts, and burrito di
nners — the thought of it made my heart glow and swell, so much so I thought it might light up the room and chase away the evening darkness.
I propped myself up on my elbow to look at Evan. He was already snoozing, taking soft breaths as his chest moved up and down, but his arms were still wrapped tight around me, even as he slept.
I smiled and snuggled back down into his side.
Maybe it was possible to get my happily-ever-after.
25
When I woke up the next morning, my chest was tight. For a moment I forgot Evan and I had made up. My mind was still fixated on the thought of losing him.
But I soon became aware of warm arms around me and a heavy weight pinning me to the bed. Somehow, in the middle of the night, we’d switched positions. Instead of me lying on Evan’s broad chest, we had turned over and now his head was resting on my stomach and his leg was wedged between mine.
The tightness in my chest eased, replaced by a sense of peace and relief.
It had only been one day, but fighting with Evan had been heart-wrenching. I’d never seen him upset at anything, so seeing him upset with me was nearly unbearable.
I didn’t know what I would have done if he’d stayed mad. If he hadn’t forgiven me.
I didn’t want to think about it. So I didn’t. I turned my thoughts to more pleasant things. Like the gorgeous man in my arms.
I enjoyed having Evan so close to me, enjoyed the feeling of his skin pressed against mine. I especially enjoyed the tingling sensation between my thighs as his knee brushed up against my core. A quick little shiver went through me as I remembered all our previous encounters, as I remembered all the pleasure he had wrung from my body.
But I was also slowly being suffocated, my rib cage struggling to expand under his weight. I experimented with a small push, seeing if I could shift Evan off me without waking him. He didn’t budge. He simply let out a quiet grunt and buried his face further into my stomach. I gave another push, harder this time, using all my strength, and still, I couldn’t move him.
He looked so cute when he was asleep, his face slack and soft, his full lips parted slightly, and his messy hair falling over his forehead. I hated to wake him, but my lungs were straining. I let out a breath and gave a little internal shrug.
“Evan,” I said loudly with a jabbing poke of my finger on his shoulder.
He grunted again.
“Wake up.” I poked again, harder this time.
He made grumbling sounds.
“You need to move.” I poked him again and again. “I can’t breathe.”
He raised his head quickly, like a badger popping out of a hole, lifting his weight from my stomach.
I inhaled deeply, fresh air filling my lungs. Evan’s sleepy-warm scent tickled my nose, a delicious thing to wake up to in the morning. I wanted to soak up that smell, I wanted to bathe in it, I wanted to bury myself under it.
Evan flopped over onto his side, his body still listless from sleep. He peeked one eye open, squinting in the bright sunlight.
“Are you awake now?” I asked.
He groaned and put an arm across his face to shield his eyes.
“No,” he murmured.
I rolled over too, facing him.
“It’s Monday, so we don’t have to get up if you don’t want to,” I told him. “But your sister is still here and she might wonder what we’re getting up to if we lie around in bed all day.”
He removed his arm from his eyes and blew out a breath.
“You’re right,” he said. “At the very least, I should see her before she leaves for school. She’s got class today.”
Evan and I lumbered out of bed and threw on casual clothes, sweatpants for him and yoga pants for me. I’d gotten used to wearing them around the house, but I still wasn’t comfortable wearing them outside in public. We made our way to the kitchen where Christie was flipping through a textbook. She looked up when we came in.
“I was wondering when you sleepyheads would wake up,” she said. “I wanted cereal for breakfast but someone keeps it on the top shelf.” She gave Evan a pointed look.
“We’re never up this early,” Evan said. “We always sleep in because of our late shifts at the bar. You’re lucky we got up in time to see you off to school.”
“Nah, it’s fine, I’m just teasing.” Christie grinned. “If you were any later I would have made toast.”
Evan and his sister were so alike. Cheerful, easy-going, always ready to tease and laugh.
He got out the cereal for his sister and started making eggs for us. I took care of the toast — and didn’t burn it, either. I wasn’t too bad at kitchen stuff anymore.
I wondered what their mom was like. Was she the same? When would I get to meet her and find out in person?
“Having meals with other people is nice,” Christie said. “Like this, or like the pizza last night. It’s better than cramming a granola bar into my mouth before class or making a sandwich for dinner.”
“You should come over and have dinner with us more often,” I said.
Evan looked over at me in surprise, then gave me a soft smile.
“Or we could go over to your place,” I continued. “We could all have dinner together with your mom.”
Evan and Christie both went still. They shared an unreadable look, some important message passing between them that I couldn’t interpret. I was taken aback. I hadn’t thought my offer was all that unusual.
I wanted to backtrack, to tell them it was fine, we didn’t need to go over for dinner, Christie was more than welcome to continue coming over here.
But there was something in the way they looked at each other. A brief pain flashing across their features, something distressing, something disturbing. What was so wrong with us having dinner with their mom?
“I’ve got to get to class.” Christie stood from the table with her empty bowl and brought it to the sink. “Thanks for letting me crash.”
“Will you be back tonight?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she said. “Would you mind if I do?”
“Not at all,” I said. “It was really great getting to know you.”
Not the least because Christie’s talk with Evan had apparently convinced him to listen to my apology, and to apologize himself. I’d always be grateful to her for that, if nothing else.
Besides, it was heartening to see sibling interaction that was filled with love and affection. My interactions with my sister had always been strained at best. Maybe it should have made me feel jealous that Evan and Christie had such a good relationship. But it only made me feel happy for him. I was glad Evan had people who loved him in his life.
And now, even though he didn’t know it, I could be included as one of those people.
After Christie took off, Evan and I finished our breakfast and I helped him with the dishes. Not only could I make toast, I could also wash dishes now. Maybe Evan had been right last night when he said I’d come a long way.
After putting the last dry plate away, Evan took me in his arms and gave me a kiss.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” I asked.
“For being so great about Christie,” he said. “I know having my little sister show up out of the blue was unexpected.”
“I really like your sister,” I told him. “She should come over any time she wants.” I pulled back and examined Evan, considering whether to bring up the question I’d been thinking ever since Christie had first walked through the front door. Evan seemed happy and at ease right now. I didn’t know if my question would spoil his good mood or not, but it had been weighing on me.
I decided to go for it.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me you had a sister?” I asked.
Evan paused. He didn’t answer right away. He seemed to be considering the question carefully.
“I never really noticed that I hadn’t,” he said eventually.
“You don’t talk about yourself at all,” I said. “You always want to kno
w more about me and my life, but whenever I try to turn the conversation over to you, somehow you always find a way to bring it back around to me.”
Evan’s brow furrowed.
“I’m not upset about it,” I said. “I just want to know more about you too. But I do worry that there might be a reason why you don’t like talking about yourself.”
“I guess you’re right that I don’t talk about myself much,” he finally said. “I’d rather listen to someone else talk than talk about myself. I find other people fascinating. I like hearing your stories.” He gave me a small smile. “I already know all about myself, after all.”
“But I want to know more about you,” I told him.
Evan looked a little perturbed, a little uncomfortable, and I instantly suspected there really was a reason he was so reticent.
But he simply nodded.
“I’ll try to talk about myself more,” he said.
I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled down into his chest. He buried his face in my hair and ran a hand up and down my back. I luxuriated in his touch. We’d only been apart for a day, but it felt as if it had taken a hundred years for us to reconcile. One night spent in Evan’s arms wasn’t enough to make up for that absence.
Buzz.
I looked over on the counter. My phone was buzzing. Someone was sending me messages.
My nerves flared up. I pressed my face back into Evan’s chest. He cupped the back of my head.
“It’s probably your family,” he said quietly.
“I know,” I said.
“You don’t have to respond to them,” he said.
“I know that, too.”
With a heavy sigh, I left the circle of Evan’s arms and went to my borrowed phone, looking at the screen. I tried not to grimace. It was my parents.
I steeled myself, then read the messages.
I blinked. I re-read them. The words stayed the same.
“My parents want to see me,” I said. “They want to have dinner and talk.”
“Talk, or yell at you until you give in?” he said.
I gripped the phone tight.
“They sound sincere,” I said. “I don’t know. Maybe I should hear them out.”
Hot and Bothered (Sin and Tonic Book 4) Page 14