“But you were untouchable,” I say, focusing on the dish in my hand as the truth pours out of me. “You were my best friend’s twin sister, and one of my best friends. If I screwed things up with you, I screwed things up with Eric and everything we had planned. Just because I didn’t make a move doesn’t mean I didn’t stare whenever I got a chance, that I didn’t dream of you at night, that I didn’t ever wonder what it would be like to press my lips against yours. You wonder why things got weird in high school, why I got distant? It was because I wanted you so damn bad but couldn’t have you.”
“Wait, are you serious right now?”
“Why would I lie about this?”
“I . . . I don’t know. To get in my good graces again.”
I turn off the water and face her. “Do you really think that little of me?”
“No,” she answers quickly. “I’m just trying to comprehend it all. I mean . . . Reid, I crushed on you so hard, ever since Eric introduced you as his friend.” She what? Excuse me while I try to comprehend this new little nugget. Eve Roberts crushed on me? “I would go to bed at night wishing you would look at me any other way than as just a friend.”
“Trust me, I was.”
She’s silent for a second before slowly lowering herself to the floor, tucking her knees against her chest, leaning back against the cabinets beneath the sink. Unsure of what’s going on, I do the same so our shoulders are touching, and we’re both staring out into the kitchen.
“Then you finally made a move.”
“Best idea of my life.”
“So why ruin it all?” she asks. “We were so close, Reid.”
“So close to what?”
She faces me, her features soft. “To love. We were so close to love, and then you broke it off.” Her gaze falls to her knees. “I loved you, and I was just waiting for you to catch up to my feelings.”
My stomach flips. “Loved?”
She presses her forehead against my shoulder and lets out a deep sigh before standing back up. I quickly join her, ready to confess everything. But when I face her, her expression has changed, her eyes have hardened, and I sense that she’s raised her defenses again—and that after my little confession, she needs to keep me at arm’s length.
“I should get going.” She runs her hands over her legs. “We have a lot of prep to do tomorrow. And we’re getting our first food delivery early in the morning.”
She changes the subject seamlessly. Avoidance and deflection—I’m impressed. And since I’m not 100 percent sure what she wants, I go with it.
“Yeah, it’s getting late. Do you need a ride back to your apartment?”
“No, I have Eric’s car. Thanks, though. I’ll catch you tomorrow. Good job on . . . all the food.” She waves her hand about.
“Sure, thanks,” I answer lamely as she walks away without a parting hug or even a pathetic high five.
That night, as I sprawl out on my bed and stare up at the skylight above me, I contemplate what I’m going to do with Eve. There are moments when she opens up to me again, when I’m convinced there’s a chance we can have what we used to, but then she shuts down just like she did tonight, guarding her heart. I don’t blame her. When she said we were so close, she was right; we were so close to having it all, and then I fucked it up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
EVE
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
Pause.
Knock. Knock. Knock. KNOCK!
I’m ready to really start pounding on the door just as it flies open, and I find a bleary-eyed Harper staring back at me, wrapped in a robe, her hair completely disheveled.
“Eve, what—”
“Sure, I would love to come in, thanks.” I push past her and fling myself onto the couch just as Rogan appears from the bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants.
Damn. The Knightly boys really are the most handsome specimens I’ve ever seen.
He limps into the living room, a sigh of relief escaping him as he takes a seat, and I feel a twinge of guilt for pulling him out of bed. “Glad to see the incessant pounding isn’t from an ax murderer,” he says. “Just an inconsiderate friend who doesn’t care how late it is.”
“Hey.” I point at him. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your brother.”
“Tea, anyone?” Harper asks. Rogan and I both raise our hands. “I’ll put some water on.”
“What did the idiot do this time?” Rogan asks, dragging his hand over his jaw.
“Oh, you know, just confessed to harboring intense feelings for me ever since we were young.”
“You didn’t know?” Rogan asks, looking surprised.
Harper joins us, taking a seat on Rogan’s lap. He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her close.
“No, I did not know that. I had no idea he even looked in my direction back then.”
Harper rubs her eyes with the palm of her hand. “You know I love you, Eve, but I need to ask, Why does it matter if he liked you back then?”
“Because!” I shout, throwing out my arms. “It lowers my defenses; it makes me want to give in to his pursuit. It weakens my stance on not wanting to be with him and forces me to consider giving him a second chance.”
“Isn’t that what you want? To be with him?” Harper asks.
“No. I mean, maybe. I don’t know.” I stare Rogan down. “I blame you.”
“Me?” He points to his chest. “Why me?”
I shrug. “You’re the only Knightly in the room, and Reid’s your brother. Therefore you get the blame.” The kettle starts to whistle, and Harper hops up to grab it.
“Let me get this straight. You’re mad at Reid because he had a crush on you when you were kids?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“But why?”
“Didn’t you just hear what I said?” I ask, as if it’s not late and I didn’t just wake him up. “He’s weakening me.”
“But don’t you want to be with him?”
Harper takes that moment to pass us mugs of tea before sitting down next to me. From the scowl on Rogan’s face, I can tell he’s not happy about her choice in seating.
“Yes, but that’s beside the point.”
“Actually”—Rogan blows on his tea—“it seems like exactly the point.”
Scowling, I turn to Harper. “This guy is making me mad.”
“Well, you did barge into his house at eleven at night.”
“Oh, excuse me, I wasn’t aware you two are old farts and go to bed so early.”
“We go to bed at a normal adult time,” Rogan says. “That is, after we fuck all over this house.”
Harper rolls her eyes. “Can you not say fuck? We don’t fuck; we make love.”
“Babe.” Rogan looks her square in the eye. “What we did against the wall earlier today was not making love—that was straight-up fucking.”
“Ughh,” I growl. “Can you not shove your perfect relationship in my face? I’m dealing with an ill-tempered, terribly mannered asshole who can’t seem to decide what he wants in his life, and for some godforsaken reason, I’m in love with him. I need some advice.”
“What do you want us to say?” Rogan asks, looking confused.
“I don’t know, honestly. I really have no idea.” I take a sip of tea, feeling deflated. “We could have had so much more, and I think that’s what I keep coming back to. If we’d gotten together back when we were in high school, we could have been—”
“It never would have lasted,” Rogan cuts in, shaking his head.
“Hey.” Harper sits up, scowling. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I know my brother, and he wouldn’t have been able to do long distance, not at eighteen. He would have driven her away when he went to culinary school. And even if he didn’t, he would have for sure driven her away after the restaurant closed. He would have broken Eve’s heart.”
“Well, I have a broken heart now,” I shoot back.
“But it’s mendable,” Ro
gan says. “You and I both know that. I see the way you look at him, the longing in your eyes. It’s not over, Eve. But the question you have to ask yourself is, How long are you going to hold out until you finally give in to what you truly want?”
“I hate how intelligent you’re being.”
He chuckles. “Sorry, Eve, I wish I could get on the screw Reid bandwagon—even though it’s very appealing—but we all know what this really comes down to. It’s not about his hidden feelings or about how insufferable he can be—it’s about the fact that you truly love him for who he is. And he may not be perfect, but we all know that he’s perfect for you.”
“Ah, Rogue.” Harper presses her hand to her chest. “That’s so sweet. And true.” She turns to me and takes my hand. “I’ve known you for a long time, Eve, and the happiest I’ve seen you has been when you’re with Reid. And yes, he’s difficult, he has his moments, but you’re strong enough to help him through them, to help him see the kind of man he really is. You need the challenge Reid gives you, the excitement, the fire he lights inside of you.”
Rogan nods. “That’s true. You lift him up, Eve. I don’t think he ever would have even considered Knight and Port if you two hadn’t been together. You bring out the good in him, and he needs that. He needs you—just like you need him.”
I do need him.
And he doesn’t just challenge me. He brings out my softer side; he fills that hole that’s been empty ever since I lost my parents. He gives me purpose, he challenges me, and weirdly, he brings my emotions to the surface, helping me feel and experience so much more than I ever thought possible.
Tears build up in my eyes, my friends’ words hitting me hard. I’ve been so hurt about the way he broke things off that I’ve forgotten what truly matters. Reid is the man I will always love, no matter what, and if anyone can put him in his place, it’s me.
“This is not the kind of conversation I was expecting when I came over here,” I admit. “But it’s what I needed. True honesty. Love isn’t all roses and sunshine. There are some really ugly aspects to it, and right now we’re living in an ugly moment. Maybe it’s time to bring some beauty back to our love.”
Harper claps her hands. “Oh my God, yes, please. Then we can go on double dates.”
“Eh, I don’t think I want to go on dates with Reid.” Rogan winces. “Let’s stick with Griffin and Ren. Reid’s just going to tell you every embarrassing story he knows about me.”
Harper smiles wide. “And that’s exactly why I want to double date with him. There was a long lull in our love. I want to know all the dirty details.”
Rogan groans as I start thinking about how to approach Reid, how to fix what went wrong between us. But maybe that’s not my responsibility. Maybe I need to let him come to me again. But when he does, I’ll listen to him with an open heart.
How does their stupid curse go? Until your mind has matured, the curse won’t be cured? Maybe it’s time to grow up and accept what this love really is: a combination of ugly and beautiful moments mixing together to create an everlasting bond.
“The shifts look great,” Mr. Knightly says from across my new desk, scanning the paper before handing it back to me.
It’s my third day on the job, and I’m officially working full time for Knight and Port. Our soft opening is scheduled for tomorrow, and while I’ve always prided myself on keeping a cool head, I’m starting to get really anxious about all the fine details.
Did I schedule all the right people to work?
Did I send out enough invites?
Do we have enough food ordered?
Are the bloggers going to come?
The questions are plaguing me constantly—to the point that I can’t remember the last time I had a full night’s sleep.
“You’re looking a bit pale. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “Just nervous. I don’t want to mess anything up.”
Mr. Knightly is known in Port Snow as the man behind the town’s success. A true patriarch and a bit of a mogul, he can be intimidating, though that’s not the man sitting across from me right now. His features soften, and a faint smile passes over his lips.
“Eve Roberts, you are an intelligent woman with a great number of brilliant ideas brewing in that head of yours every day. Your skills and organization are impeccable, and your ability to learn on the fly and obtain knowledge is incredible. I could not think of a better person to be at the helm of Knight and Port.” Emotions start to tighten my throat as he continues, “We’re having soft openings for a reason—to work out the kinks—so even if things aren’t as perfect as they should be tomorrow night, we’ll iron out those wrinkles.” He leans forward and places his hand on my desk. “We have the best team for this restaurant. I can’t wait to see how well we do.”
I nod, unable to voice my gratitude for his kind words.
Before I can start blubbering, someone ascends the stairs—but when I see that it’s Reid, my heart flips in my chest, and my emotions skyrocket, putting me on the verge of sobs anyway, just at the sight of him.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, holding his hand up in apology. “Dad, Mom’s downstairs with some questions about the opening. Mainly what she should wear.”
Rolling his eyes, Mr. Knightly laughs and stands up from his chair, his tall frame blocking the can lights in the ceiling. “Things she can do at home.” He taps my desk. “You got this, Eve.” With a parting wink, he takes off down the stairs, leaving me alone with Reid, who doesn’t seem to get the hint that I want to be left alone as I stare down at my papers and shuffle them around. With every ounce of strength I have left inside of me, I try to hide the tears that are just starting to fall past my eyelids.
But when I hear him step forward, I know it’s too late.
“Hey.” He walks around to my side of my desk. Bringing his fingers to my chin, he lifts my head just in time to catch a few tears. “What’s going on?”
I swipe at my face and push my shoulders back, trying to put on a strong front. But he sees right through it and kneels down in front of me, swiveling my chair to face him. All the nerves from the restaurant, all the feelings I have for this man, come crashing together at the same time, and before I can stop myself, tears stream down my face.
“Eve, talk to me,” Reid says, placing both hands on my thighs and moving them up and down. The comforting gesture feels like an electric shock, lighting me up inside and confusing my emotions even more. “Did my dad say anything to upset you?”
“No.” I shake my head with a quiet sob and take a deep breath before wiping my eyes again. “I’m sorry. I’m stronger than this.” With another deep breath, I lean back and reach for a tissue on my desk. I quickly blow my nose and toss the tissue in the trash. “Okay.” I shake my shoulders. “Sorry about that. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yeah, you can tell me why you’re crying.”
“I’m not crying anymore, so no need to talk about it.” Another tear falls, and I quickly wipe it away and plaster on a fake smile. “See, all good.”
“Not buying it.” He takes my hands, his thumbs circling over my knuckles. Everything about him is warm and comforting. “Talk to me, Eve.”
Damn it. More tears start to fall. Isn’t that always the case when you’re trying to hold back the tears? You can keep them at bay until someone asks you what’s wrong.
Knowing he won’t let up on his questions, I look down at our connected hands and say, “Just nervous about the soft opening. This is big, and I don’t want to screw anything up.”
“Is that all?” He tilts my chin again to get a good look at my face.
I nibble on my bottom lip as I contemplate confessing to him. My conversation with Harper and Rogan has been festering in my head, building and building, driving me nuts, and creating almost a false sense of courage within me.
Even if he’s not perfect, he’s perfect for you.
That one sentence. It’s been on constant replay in my
head, becoming more and more true with each breath I take.
Can I take another chance on him? Throw my heart on the table one more time and risk him breaking it all over again?
I stare into his blue eyes, and I realize that, of all the risks that come in life, there’s only one I’m not willing to take, and that’s not giving us one more chance.
I look off to the side, my voice drifting off into a hushed whisper as I say, “You.”
“Me, what?”
“Having you here, holding me. Your kind gestures, your surprises, your pursuit. It’s all too much for me, Reid. I want to hate you, but . . .”
“But what?” he asks, leaning closer, anticipation brimming in his eyes.
“But I can’t seem”—I pause and steady my shaking hands—“I can’t seem to stop my heart from wanting you.”
An irresistible grin passes over his lips. “You want me.” The words are filled with his usual cocky attitude. My tears quickly dry up as I palm his face and push him away from me.
“Forget I even said anything.”
“No way in hell.” He stands and pulls me up with him as his arms loop around my waist. Seeming not to care about whoever sees us, he presses his forehead against mine. “Come over tonight. Let me make you dinner. We won’t have time to fish and have the perfect date, but we can at least share the night before opening.”
“I don’t know,” I answer, my protest sounding pathetic even to me.
“Please, Eve. Let me apologize to you properly; let me make this up to you. When I said I wanted to make things right, I meant it.”
I said I’d listen with an open heart when he came to me, but it’s a little harder than I thought to put aside how much it hurt when he broke up with me. The look in his eyes, that desperate plea to try one more time—this is why I’m bending, why I can’t seem to turn this man away. No matter how cautious my brain is, my heart wins every single time.
“Tonight?” I ask. “I have plans.” I smile.
“What are you doing? Washing your hair?”
That Secret Crush Page 29