Ever Over After (The Over Duet #2)

by J. A. Derouen

  “I didn’t help you get clean. I kicked you out of my house because I got tired of looking at you. At first, it was fun to see how far the mighty had fallen. Then it was just pathetic.” He curls his lip in disgust, like I’m the one who’s revolting. “Ever, the all-American rich boy. Every guy wants to be him, and every girl wants to be with him, right? No girl would choose a piece of trash like me when they could have you, right? Except, I got the girl this time. I sealed the deal when you couldn’t.”

  “Do you hear how completely unhinged you sound? Did you really commit rape because you were jealous?” I shake my head violently and push the chair away from the table. I need to get as far away from him as possible—another galaxy would be preferable, because otherwise I can’t be responsible for my actions. “You nearly broke her because she chose me over you? You are exactly where you belong, you dirty piece of trash.”

  “Fuck you, Ever,” he grits out, anger dripping from his words. Anger, and still, after all this time, jealousy. “Fuck. You.”

  I rise up, looking down at him with narrowed eyes and flared nostrils. I look down my nose at the despicable person he’s become—or rather, always was.

  “This is the last time I’ll make the drive to this God-forsaken place to see you. I’m making it my mission to convince Low to press charges against you, because nothing would make me happier than for you to have the title ‘rapist.’ You know what happens to rapists in prison, don’t you, Remy?” Now I’m the one smirking. “Of course you do.”

  “Go to hell,” he whispers, and I see his temper simmering, threatening to erupt at any moment.

  “You first,” I say with a taunting wink. “Now, go on back to your six-by-eight cage. Stare at the four goddamn walls for a few more decades while I secretly pray you get shanked in the chow line.”

  He jolts up to standing and slams his palms on the rickety table. The room quiets and the guards charge forward, grabbing his wrist and pulling it behind his back with a brutal jerk.

  “What’s the problem here?” one of the guards asks, putting more pressure on Remy’s arm. He lets out a grunt and bears his teeth in my direction, like the animal he is.

  I raise my hands passively and smile at them, backing away. “No problem, officers, I was just leaving,” I say, with a saccharine smile, then flit my eyes to Remy. “Have a nice life. Or don’t. I don’t really give a shit.”

  I waltz out of the visitation room with a calmness I don’t actually feel, but I’ll be damned if I give Remy the satisfaction of seeing my frayed nerves overcome me. I step outside, the ruthless sun beating down on my shoulders. It seems fitting on this merciless day. I pride myself on being a good man—a man who asks for forgiveness when I’ve hurt others and gives it freely to those who have hurt me.

  But there are some things that can’t be atoned for. Sins so heinous, the only answer is to cut the person out of your life. From this day forward, Remy Rodrigue is a ghost.

  Now it’s time to go home … time to see Low.

  Ever

  I INCH MY foot off the accelerator for the hundredth time, trying to stay somewhere in the vicinity of the speed limit when every cell in my body screams for me to go, go, go. I can’t get home fast enough.

  When I pass the Providence city limit sign, I’m belting out tunes like I’m Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire, windows rolled down and thumbs drumming the steering wheel. I can’t remember the last time I’d felt this free … maybe never. It’s as if the chalkboard has been wiped clean. All the ugly secrets plaguing our past have been uncovered and thrown away, nothing left but how we feel about each other. How we’ve always felt about each other.

  There’s no one else, no other person who owns me the way Low does. I more than love her. I need her.

  I turn onto her street and frown when I see her empty driveway. I didn’t call on my way home because I didn’t want to hash this out over the phone. Leave it to Low to mess up my grand gesture by not being home. Stubborn ’til the bitter end.

  Well, shit…

  I fumble for my phone and dial Jeb, hoping like hell he’s got some idea of where she might be. If not, I’ll scour the town. The hospital, the clinic, Alex’s art gallery—I’ll make the rounds if I have to. Jeb picks up on the second ring.

  “Yo, asshole. Decided to come home and help me run our restaurant? Or are you still gallivanting … or soul-searching … or whatever the hell you’re doing?”

  “I’m here. I’m back, I mean, but have you—” I stop and huff out a frustrated sigh. “Do you know where Low is?”

  I hear a low chuckle through the phone, but he doesn’t answer my question.

  “Jeb, I’m serious, man. Do you know where she is?”

  “I think you better head in to Moelle and see for yourself.”

  I make it to the restaurant in ten minutes flat, paying no mind to my lead foot this time. The restaurant doesn’t open for another two hours, so the parking lot is empty except for two very familiar vehicles. I pull in and park next to Marlo’s Jeep, barely pulling the key out of the ignition before jumping out of the car.

  I swing open the unlocked door, and bound forward, searching the room like a man on a mission … or a mad man, depending on how you look at it. When my eyes settle on Marlo perched on a barstool, I exhale and grin. My smile wavers when I see her expression. She doesn’t look nearly as happy to see me as I am to see her.

  “Good to have you back,” Jeb says, and my gaze moves to him wiping the bar. I didn’t even notice him there until he spoke. I nod once, giving him a forced smile. He points to the kitchen. “I’m just gonna…”

  I nod again, and watch him shuffle away with raised eyebrows and a leery smile, silently telling me I have my work cut out for me. The kitchen door swings shut, and I turn back to Marlo. I step forward, ready to wrap her in my arms, shove my face into her hair, and breathe in all that is her, but she raises her hands in protest. I can’t lie, it stings, but I hang back.

  “You don’t get to walk away from me without a word,” she says, shaking her head. “Not anymore, Ever.”

  I nod, knowing how it must have looked to her. I hadn’t been able to tell her my plans before, because I knew she would’ve tried to talk me out of it. I didn’t want to upset her or worry her needlessly. I’d also needed to calm down. The last thing Low needs is to see me turn into a caveman and punch a hole through the wall. I’d needed to sort my own feelings so I could be the rock she needs—so I could love her and protect her the way she deserves. The way she’s always deserved.

  “I’m so sorry, Low, I—”

  “I’ve been thinking about it, Ever, and I’ve decided some things. Things I need you to know,” she interrupts, squaring her shoulders and leveling me with her eyes. “You don’t get to quit me.”

  “Quit you? Why would you—”

  “You don’t get to just walk away when I tell you things you don’t want to hear. For your five-year meeting, you stood there, holding that all important chip, and you gave it all to me. You gave me the ugly … the hard. And I took it. I took it, and I love that part of you just as much, if not more, than everything else you’ve given me. Last week, you learned I have ugly things living inside of me. And you, Ever, you are going to take it.” I hear the hitch in her voice, the wretched sob begging to break free, and it undoes me. I’m on her in a split second, body pressed close and fingers entwined in her hair. She reaches up and grips my wrists, clenching her eyes shut. “I’m not giving up on you, and you don’t get to give up on me. You lost that right the second you decided to walk back into my life.”

  “Baby,” I whisper, as I press my lips to her hair. Dropping my forehead to hers, I brush my nose against hers. “I’m right here. I’m in this with you. I’ll take anything you want to give me. It’s me and you, Low. Yeah?”

  She opens her eyes and searches my face. She looks for an ounce of indecision, which she won’t find, and I lose myself in her sea of emerald green. She nods hesitantly, wanting to believe me, hoping I wo
n’t let her down like I have so many times before. I brush the apples of her cheeks and press my lips to hers. When I move away, her lips follow mine, and I smile.

  “I’ve pushed away and fought against every single thing in my life. I’ve finally found the person I want to fight for, and you think I’m going to just walk away? I’m a better man when I’m loving you. I don’t think I can stop, even if you begged me to.”

  A tear spills over, and she laughs, pushing her thumbs under her eyes, wiping away the sadness to make way for the joy.

  “I was going to cause you bodily harm, you know? You were gonna sing like a choir boy, and future children would have been questionable at best,” she says with a laugh. “Junk punch times ten was on the menu.”

  “Hey, watch what you’re calling ‘junk.’”

  “Whatever.” She chuckles as she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. She scoots to the edge of the stool and widens her legs, fitting me between them. “I love you, Ever. More than I thought was possible.”

  “I’ve always loved you, Low. Even when my head was too jumbled to catch up with my heart. Let’s go home, baby.” I lift her off the barstool, and she wraps her legs around me. My lips are on hers, and I’m halfway to the door when I hear Jeb calling out.

  “Nah, don’t worry about me. I can hold down the fort for one more day. That’s me, good old, reliable Jeb,” he says, his head peeking out from the kitchen door.

  Marlo giggles, and I wave a hand of thanks. “I owe you, man. I owe you big.”

  “I’ll be sure to make my repayment interesting,” he calls out as the door shuts behind us.

  “We should be afraid of him, Low,” I laugh against her lips. “Very afraid.”

  I run a finger down the curve of her spine, making her shiver and hide her face in the pillow. She peeks over her arm, her eyes dancing as she laughs. I grab her waist and pull her closer, my lips following the path of my finger.

  “Stop trying to distract me with the sex,” she says, her lips pursed in determination. “I may love the hell out of you, but you still have some explaining to do. That junk punch isn’t completely off the table yet.”

  I sink my teeth into the delectable flesh of her ass and she yelps. “After what just happened in this bed, you’re still willing to call it ‘junk’? I just defiled you, woman.”

  She cranes her neck and levels me with her eyes, so I flop down beside her and slap on a serious face. A goofily happy serious face, but serious nonetheless.

  “So you went to see Remy?”

  I nod.

  “In prison?”

  I nod again. She blows out a breath and shuts her eyes.

  “Some things in life are inevitable, aren’t they? He was going to end up in jail one way or another, wasn’t he?”

  “He was,” I agree, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I run my finger down the curve of her neck and kiss her shoulder. “You know, you can put him away for even longer. I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll get the best lawyer from my dad’s old firm.”

  She rests a hand on my arm and smiles. “Thank you,” she says, her voice calm and peaceful. “I love that you would do that for me, but I don’t want to go back down that road. I want to focus on my future … our future. Remy has taken enough away from me. I won’t let him have one more thing.”

  “I want him to pay,” I say through clenched teeth, feeling the burn behind my nose … squeezing my chest. “I want him to pay for what he did to you.”

  “I want us to heal. That’s what I want, Ever. That’s what I need.” She runs her thumb over my forehead, smoothing out the tension. “I want to focus on the years we have ahead of us instead of the ones we missed. I need to let the pain go … I think I already have.”

  I shut my eyes and listen to the steady rhythm of her breath—never has such a faint sound been so magnificent. Never has something barely audible screamed so loudly in my head. And isn’t that the beauty of it all? Somehow, after all the missteps, heartbreak, and regret, we are able to take the frayed edges of our past and braid them into a future full of love and hope. Whatever happened before, whatever happens going forward, we’ve got each other.

  “Then let’s look to the future. I can do that … I can do anything for you.”

  She runs a finger down the length of my back, much like I just did to her, her eyes following the path down, down, down. She purses her lips in concentration and slaps her hand on my ass with a giant smack. I bolt up and straddle her, grabbing both of her wrists in my hands and pulling them over her head. I bury my face in the back of her neck and nibble.

  “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one,” I laugh, as she hides her face in her pillow and squirms underneath me.

  “I hope so,” she tosses back with a giggle. Then she stills underneath me. “What about you? What do you want, Ev?”

  “I want you naked and wet … always. I want you to suck my dick to the quick,” I tease, eyes brimming with mirth. She barks out a laugh accompanied with a fair share of name calling. “What was that? Did you say you want the same thing?”

  “He’s got jokes,” she mutters.

  “A man wants what he wants,” I say with a shrug. I brush her hair off her neck and run my thumb down her earlobe. “And I want nighttime walks longer than my legs can carry me and bear hugs tighter than my lungs can stand. I want all those things with you. It’s always been you, Low.”

  “Since I love you to the point of goddamn distraction, that’s a good thing.” She smiles and squirms underneath me. “About the first two things—I’m both naked and wet … so what are you gonna do about it?”

  Her taunt spurs me into action, releasing her wrists and jerking her hips up to kneeling. I thrust into her from behind as I curl my front against her arched back. Her head rolls back to meet my eager lips, and finally … finally, she gives it all to me.

  And I take it.

  Marlo

  Three months later

  “WHO’S GOT THE roast beef, debris-style,” I shout across the bar, waving a po’ boy wrapped in butcher’s paper.

  Caroline’s hand shoots up in the air, and she rushes to me. “Oh, me, me!”

  She grins while she inspects her prize, the gravy already seeping through the paper.

  “Adventurous one, aren’t you?” I mutter with a laugh.

  “I like to stick to the classics,” she says, her tone haughty and teasing. “I like to think I’m a classic myself.”

  She winks at me, and saunters back into the crowd. A crowd of our closest family and friends—I’m not sure when two surly asses like Ever and me accumulated so many amazing people, but here they are, filling up Moelle’s dining room while the sign on the door stays flipped to CLOSED.

  This get-together has been a long time coming, my dad getting antsier by the day when his little girl wouldn’t come home for a visit. It’s not like it had been intentional. From the day Ever had returned from his trip of redemption, as I like to call it, he never really left my house again. Little by little, his belongings began showing up around the house, until finally, his apartment was empty and his lease gone. So with work, spending time with my new roomie, and more than occasionally baking for Moelle, a trip home just never inched up on the to-do list. The old man packed a bag and told me he was coming to me, like it or not.

  I only wish Nana and Declan could have made the trip, too. Nana stays close to home these days, although I hate to think of her needing to do that, and veterinary school at Texas A&M is no joke. Dad keeps taking pictures of Ever and me with his new smartphone to show Nana and Declan when he gets home, but most of the pics are of the bottom half of his face, with an unspeakable view straight up into his cavernous nostrils. Technology and Dad do not get along.

  Once I told Evelyn about Dad’s visit, and my new relationship status, she had the car packed and Oliver in tow before the day’s end. I can imagine her shoving him out of the door, chattering his ear off, while he’d balanced her pi
le of suitcases.

  When Ever had hung up with his mom only a few hours later, he’d shrugged and shot me a nervous smile. “Looks like the party is growing.”

  So we’d decided to make it just that—a party. A big, honking, meet the family, friends are invited, too, party. And what happens when a chef and a baker decide to throw a party? A shit-ton of food, that’s what. Throw in their mixologist best friend? Everyone’s got full bellies and floating heads.

  “What the hell did y’all put in this flamin’ chicken po’ boy, man? Liquid hot magma?” Cain calls out before downing his bottle of water.

  “I had Ever get fiery flames, straight from the pits of hell, just for you. I wanted to see you cry like a little bitch,” I say with a laugh.

  “Language,” my dad mutters, giving me evil, yet loving, eyes from the end of the bar.

  “It hurts so good. So damn good,” Cain says as he rubs his chest and dives in for another bite.

  I notice Caroline sitting next to my dad, and I get his attention and waggle my eyebrows in her direction.

  “Christ,” he mutters, shaking his head.

  Ever has caused quite the transformation in me. In a short time, I’ve gone from a non-believer to a card-carrying member of the Unicorn and Glitter Club. Love will do that to a girl. My dad is lucky he lives a state away. Otherwise, I’d be fixing him up with the ladies of the quilting club on the regular. I might actually get Nana set up with that particular project…

  “Darling, what is this sauce on my fried shrimp? It’s to die for,” Evelyn croons as she feeds a shrimp to Oliver. He bites the tail from her fingers and moans in pleasure.