Vanessa’s folded jacket and white shirt indicate she hasn’t been home from work yet. Again, I can see the tantalizing lace beneath her top but this time I’m quick enough to move my eyes before she spots me. Something about this girl turns me on, I don’t need to get close to or even touch Vanessa and I’m itching to get my hands on her.
Abby and Matt are snuggling and giggling, their behavior makes me uncomfortable, and amplifies the tension between me and Vanessa. I slide onto the stool next to her. My knee touches hers and she jerks away as if I’ve given her an electric shock.
“Thanks for the drink,” she says.
“No problem.”
And silence.
“How’s work?” I ask.
“Shit.”
She’s paler than usual, and her downturned mouth and bad language betrays more. “That bad, huh?”
Vanessa swigs some more beer. “Bad day. That’s all.”
I summon a sympathetic look, but inside my mind is saying ‘haha told you so.’ Princess Vanessa isn’t doing well with the commoners.
“How’s poetry class?” she asks a little snidely.
“Ah. Yeah, sorry.” The other night had to come up. I’d hoped she’d dismiss what happened. Crap, I say some dumb stuff when I’m pissed.
“Sorry? No, but it was so cute the way you quoted poetry at me while your latest conquest waited downstairs for you.”
She offers me a fake smile. Every time I think I’m going to like this girl, she puts her claws in. “You judging me again, Vanessa?”
“No. Just stating a fact, Evan.”
She scratches her nose with a delicate finger and rubs her lips. I’m transfixed by this, and by her quickened breathing. I recognize the signs and smile.
“I didn’t,” I tell her.
“Didn’t?”
“Have sex with the blonde girl.” I’ve no idea why I felt the need to say those words and this concerns me - what does Vanessa’s opinion matter?
She arches an eyebrow at me. “Blonde girl? So she doesn’t even have a name?”
I rest my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands, then look back to her. “Vanessa, you always think the worst. Of course I know her name. It’s Candice. She’s in my Medieval Lit class and she’s still talking to me.”
“What happened? Did she pass out?”
I shake my head slowly at Vanessa, catching a glint of something in her eye. She’s doing this deliberately. “Of course she did, how else would she resist my charms unless she was unconscious?”
“Brush up on your poetry, maybe that’ll keep her awake long enough.” Her response is batted straight back, as if we’re in a game of tennis.
Scrap that thought. These encounters are beginning to get interesting. Maybe I’m not wasting my time. It’s a while since I had a verbal sparring match with someone other than my sister, and it’s fun. I don’t normally bother talking to girls, getting to know them makes things complicated and I don’t want complicated. But Vanessa’s intriguing and funny. Plus she’s going to take more than flattery to get into bed. A challenge. Maybe I can deal with the claws after all.
“How’s your sex life?”
She splutters into her beer. “What the hell?”
“You seem very interested in mine.”
“I’m not talking about that with you!” Pink creeps across her pale skin.
“Then quit talking about mine.” I smile, waiting for the confused look, the comeback.
Vanessa sets down the glass and tucks her hair behind her ear slowly. “Sorry, I’m just intrigued by your uncanny ability to turn on every girl around you.” She runs her tongue across her top lip, leans towards me.
I blink. What the hell? Did someone just swap Vanessa for a different girl and I missed it? She said she wasn’t interested. Vanessa’s looking directly at me, the vanilla scent of her perfume drifting towards me. This is beyond a challenge; she’s looking directly into my head. I rearrange my features back into my normal, laid-back look.
“Not me though,” she continues and finishes her beer, smiling into the glass.
“Not yet,” I say, recovering and joining her game, leaning into her.
She moves back. “I saw you then.”
“Saw me?”
“I saw Evan. The real Evan.” She sips her drink.
“What real Evan?”
Stretching out her neck and shoulders, she continues to watch me with shining green eyes. “You tell me.”
The space between us contracts, as if she’s seen something carefully hidden. Vanessa’s touching her gold necklace, fingers trailing across her neck. Above her breasts. I can’t tell if she’s doing this deliberately but it’sfucking hot. I focus an intense gaze on her. The one I use on girl’s I want to get into my bed as soon as possible. It works. She can’t hold my look and the blush creeps from her cheeks to her neck. I finish off with my signature smile. Nice try, Vanessa. Game on.
Chapter 8
NESS
The minute I agreed to go to the pub with Abby, I should’ve known what would happen. Several drinks in quick succession lead to Abby’s decision - we all go for a curry. The curry house is a short walk from the pub, so my refusal to go would be rude. Still, I attempt to get out of going but a combination of Abby’s insistence and a quiet plea from Evan not to be alone with the lovebirds wears me down. Plus the fridge at home is empty as per usual. Admittedly, my intrigue with Evan’s behavior tonight also plays a part. I can’t tell what game he’s playing, but I’m going to win.
Stepping from the street into the restaurant, my senses are assaulted by the smell of Indian spices and the bright red and gold decor. If we’d arrived any later, and the place would’ve been full of post-pub students but there’s only one other couple here. Matt orders five different dishes and soon the table is piled with an assortment of bowls holding steaming curries, and plates of giant naan bread. The mingling flavors remind me I’m hungry, and my appetite pushes out the strange feeling I’ve had in my stomach since talking to Evan in the pub. Authentic curry tastes so good and I unashamedly fill a plate with chicken tikka, naan and bhajis.
“Not a typical girl, are you?” Evan says from across the table, gaze going from my full plate to Abby’s.
Abby’s contains a tiny pile of rice and a spoonful of rogan josh. I look directly into Evan’s eyes and shove a huge piece of naan bread into my mouth.
“Nope,” I say through the bread.
Abby giggles. “She’s not a typical anything.”
Evan’s gaze moves from my mouth to my chest and slowly back again, eyes darkening andthat smile beginning. “I’m starting to see.”
My dampened hormones rage back to life and I hold my breath. Evan is not the person I want to reawaken the needs I’ve buried since I broke it off with Josh. I’ve been doing okay on my own, thank you. I do not need to start fantasizing about someone who’s guaranteed to break my heart. I pensively lick sauce from my bottom lip and his eyes fix there, biting his own. What obsession does this guy have with my mouth? I can guess, and my mind instantly conjures up an image of his mouth on mine. I grab a spoon and distract myself, ladling more food onto the plate.
Abby and Matt flirt and do the gross feeding each other thing, Abby giggling with each forkful he stuffs in her mouth. Evan lifts a forkful of curry in my direction and raises an eyebrow at me.
“I don’t think so,” I say, “I’m not three years old.”
He grins and slides the fork into his own mouth, licking his lips slowly. I laugh at him mimicking me.
The easygoing atmosphere is a relief after the crap at work. The build up of tension between me and Abby melts away with every shared joke. Evan is more relaxed too, the smart comments replaced with normal conversation. Perhaps co-existing with students will work. Here, with them, I’m not on the edge of the student world, looking sulkily in.
“I have a question for you,” Evan says.
My mind jumps to alert. “Oh?”
“Don’
t stress, nothing dodgy. Just, why do you live in the middle of a student ghetto, socialize with students but work in a crappy job when you could be at uni?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I told you, I didn’t want my parents running my life for me.”
“So study something else.”
I can’t believe I’m having this conversation twice in one day.
“And get crap from them about wasting their money? No, I’m paying my own way in life from now on.”
Evan takes a drink from his beer bottle. “Isn’t that still letting them run your life for you? If you’re doing something you don’t want, just to prove a point?”
His words smart. “You should be a studying Psychology,” I retort.
“Just saying.” As he continues to eat, I catch him studying my face but not in the hungry, sexual way from before. If he’s trying to figure me out, he may as well stop. The situation is clear and simple - I’m a teenager chasing independence.
“How about you? What do your parents think about your life choices?” I ask.
He frowns at me. “Are you talking about me studying a waste of time degree?”
“No, I never said that. Did they?”
Turning back to his meal, Evan shovels curry into his mouth, and I think I’ve killed the conversation.
“Like you, I don’t want my future dictated by what other people want from me,” he says after a long pause.
The hardness in his voice warns me this isn’t banter anymore and I back off. Right off. We continue our meal in silence, while an oblivious Matt and Abby continue their flirtations.
Time passes and Matt lines a couple more bottles on the table in front of him, but Abby and Evan stop drinking.
As we’re leaving I point at the lack of bottles in front of Evan. “You’re slacking, it’s nine in the evening and you’re sober.”
Evan holds the door open for me. “I don’t drink every night.” He follows me through. “Just most.”
The approaching winter bites and I pull my thin jacket tight. Disappointingly, Evan’s mood remains subdued.
My car waits in the library car park and I’m grateful it’s still in one piece. I know there’s floodlights and security but the campus isn’t the sensible place to leave a car at night. Matt and Abby hop in the back and their low voices quiet into what I hope is just kissing. Evan’s large frame settles into the passenger seat besides me and I steal a glimpse at him. The smile he gives me doesn’t have the usual hidden meaning attached. So I smile back.
“You guys want me to take you home?” I ask him.
“No!” says Abby, “Matt’s coming back with us. How about you Evan?”
Evan scratches an eyebrow. “That’s up to Vanessa.”
Abby giggles. “No-one calls her Vanessa. Apart from her mum and dad.”
“I know, but she hasn’t given me permission to call her anything else.” He’s not looking at me but I hear the tease in his voice.
“Better Ness than babe,” I retort.
He snorts with amusement, “I prefer Vanessa. I told you why.”
“Why?” Abby asks.
“Because Evan fits…” he begins and I slap his leg in horror.
“What? I don’t get it?” asks Abby.
I don’t hear her, Evan catches my hand when I touch his leg and he’s tracing his thumb across the back of it. His abrasive touch sends tingling shocks up my arm. And down. How can one touch arouse me like this? I stare at the steering wheel, battling between the desire to let him keep touching me, or pulling my hand away.
Matt whacks my headrest. “Come on! Some of us want to go to bed!”
“Shh…” Abby puts her hand over his mouth.
I tear my fingers from Evan’s, before the connotations of Matt’s words spread through the car. Attempting to hide my increased difficulty in breathing, I concentrate on driving us home.
****
NESS
Evan lounges on the sofa, legs outstretched and beer bottle in hand. As I leave the kitchen with a couple of drinks for me and Abby, I pause. There’s intent in his darkened pupils as he slowly takes a drink from his bottle.Crap. I should’ve taken him home.
Matt and Abby are entangled on the armchair by the window and my only option is the sofa next to Evan. I chicken out and sit on the arm at the opposite end to him.
He twists his body towards me. “I don’t bite, Ness.”
“That’s a predictable thing to say.” I feign ignoring him and take a drink of lager.
He shuffles along the sofa towards me, and my breathing increases again. Thank god the room is dim enough to hide my change of color.
“Very true. Should I go for poetry instead?”
I give in and flop into the space between us, he shifts closer, solid thigh touching mine. I flinch and he moves his leg away again.
“What do you prefer? Shakespeare? Something a bit more modern?”
I snuggle back into the sofa, glad he’s turned off the primal looks. “Hit me with your best shot, poetry guy.”
“Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.”
Again, his words surprise me and although I wish I could laugh him, there’s a strange earnestness in his face.
“Much Ado About Nothing?” I ask.
“So I hear.”
This time when his leg touches me, he doesn’t move away. As I exhale, it’s as if I let out part of the barrier I have against him. He searches my face; I’m convinced he’s about to kiss me.
Movement on the stairs distracts me and my heart leaps into my mouth as I watch Matt and Abby go upstairs. Evan tips his head back to watch them go, then turns to me. I freeze, ready to move if he reaches out to me.
Shaking slightly, I take a drink from my bottle. “Have you known Matt long?”
Evan shakes his head. “Matt? That’s a deft change of subject.”
“Yep.”
“Did you think I was going to kiss you?”
“That’s an even defter change of subject.”
We’re close, almost touching and the electricity hovers in the space between us ready to spark. Something in the warmth of him spreads towards me and I fight down the attraction to him, the one I’m sure I share with so many other girls. I can’t breathe properly and I don’t like it, guys don’t normally have this effect on me. I close my eyes, dismissing the urge to kiss him.
“I’ve known Matt since I was four,” he says and I open my eyes.
His face is nowhere near mine. “A bit like me and Abby.”
“Yeah.”
“Where are you from?”
“Lancaster. Always. Since birth.”
“A relief to get away then?”
Evan picks at the label on his bottle. “Oh yeah.” His words hold something, which flickers across his face, and he squeezes his eyes like he’s trying to forget something.
“Not far to go if you want to visit, I suppose.”
Evan turns his eyes back to me. “Why don’t we talk about the weather?”
“Why?”
“Because you’re making small talk.”
I frown at him. “Just trying to get to know you. That’s all.”
Evan sinks back into the cushions. “There’s not much to know. That was my childhood. My life starts now.”
Funny, because I know exactly what he means by those words; so many people I come across want to cling to their childish past. “You’ve got controlling parents too?”
“Parent.” He swigs his beer.
“Oh, you’re Dad not around?”
“My Mum isn’t around.” He clamps his mouth shut and I think I’ve poked the wound I suspected. He sits forward again. “You going to get all Freudian on me now?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, me and all the girls. Mother issues. Not allowing a woman to love me. That bullshit.”
I don’t like the edge to his voice or the way his hand’s gripping his bottle. We’ve circled back round to the conversation in the restau
rant. Whatever he thinks, I hadn’t even begun to form any view. I resist the temptation to point out to him that the words validate his own argument.
“No, I’m not.”
Evan rubs his face. “Sorry, Vanessa.”
“Ness.”
“I’m allowed to call you Ness now? To what do I owe that honor?”
I smile at the break in tension. “Because I don’t think you’re the guy who was so rude to me a couple of days ago.”
“Oh? What guy am I?”
I deliberately bite my bottom lip as I fix my eyes on his. Maybe I should kiss him. He’s obsessing over my mouth again, I can tell, and that’s why I’m doing it.
Evan’s phone buzzes, and as he pulls it from his pocket, I’m sure his hand trembles slightly.
“Fuck off,” he mutters and hits the cancel key.
He shoves the phone away and looks back to me but it rings again. Evan’s mouth hardens as he cancels the call. This happens twice more and his agitation increases. Talk about mood killer.
“Maybe just answer it?” I suggest.
“No.” He presses the button on top to switch the phone off and sets it on the table, watching as if the phone is a grenade.
We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, drinking beer side by side. Next to me, Evan chews a nail and I want to ask him if everything is okay. The sexual tension between us reduces back to normal tension and I sigh quietly. There go my concerns about him trying to get me into bed.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
Then his lips crush mine, my sigh turning into a gasp of surprise as his rough kiss parts my mouth. My first instinct is to push him away but my body has other ideas and I lean into him. Evan pulls me into his chest, his embrace so tight I can feel his heart racing against mine. Logic flies out of my mind without even saying goodbye as I wait eagerly for his next move. His warm mouth searches mine urgently and my body flares into arousal. I’m even trembling and all he’s done is put his mouth on mine. Holy crap, what is this? Evan pulls his head away and cups my cheek with his rough palm, tracing a finger over my swollen lips.
“I have to go,” he says hoarsely, “But I wanted to do that first. I hope you don’t mind.”
Because of Lucy Page 4