“Seven years.”
“Seven years,” he murmured. “Seven years, and no-one knew.”
She shrugged. “Who would suspect? Until that night two years ago, I was no-one. I was Hannah’s weird little sister. He was Daniel Burne. It wasn’t that hard to hide.”
His fingers traced gentle, soothing circles over her skin. Impressive, when she could feel him vibrating with anger.
“And he…” Evan took a breath. “He sends you flowers.”
“On a semi-regular basis. He’s been jealous, since I met you. He’s childish like that. He sends me other things, too, to apologise for the way he behaves every time we meet.”
“Why?”
“Because he wants me back, apparently.” Ruth snorted, and was surprised to realise that she was actually amused. Not afraid, or silenced, or blaming herself for Daniel’s delusions. Just amused, and disgusted, and vaguely pitying. “He’s unhappy, and he always will be. Some people are never satisfied. They want endlessly.”
“And what do you want?”
She shifted, turning her head to look up at Evan. His face was grave, his blue eyes gentle. “Are you asking if I still care about him?”
“Yeah.” There was no judgement in Evan’s voice. Even though she’d just told him that she’d spent most of her adult life in a secret relationship with the biggest piece of shit she’d ever met. Even though he now knew that her poor decisions had contributed to the derailing of her sister’s dreams.
“He called the police,” she said. “He called the police and wrote a statement against my sister over a fucking car he could afford five times over. He ruined her life and he did it to hurt me. And he said—he said I should be grateful that he wasn’t suing.” Her voice was hard. Her heart, in that moment, was harder. “When I found out about Laura, when I finally realised what he was, that didn’t stop me loving him. I left him, but I loved him. When he hurt Hannah, though…” She shook her head. “It was as if I’d never loved him at all.”
She didn’t think she was imagining the way Evan relaxed, but he hid it well. His fingers never faltered in their slow, soothing circle. He nodded. Then he said, as if making a sudden realisation, “That girl you were friends with; Hayley?”
“Daniel’s sister-in-law.” Ruth sighed. “That night, he gave Laura some explanation. Some twisted version of what actually happened between us. A version in which I shamelessly seduced Daniel, got jealous when he tried to leave me for Laura… whatever. She told Hayley, Hayley believed her—”
“Why?” Evan demanded.
“Because that’s what sisters do. They believe each other. And I didn’t exactly help.”
Evan sighed. “Let me guess. Someone asked you what was going on, and you very helpfully told them to fuck off.”
“Something like that.”
Ruth still remembered the raw panic of waking to find Mum pacing the room, biting her nails, looking worried for the first time in her life. Still remembered the words, “Your sister has been arrested”. Still remembered the acidic fear, the cotton-thick confusion, the regret. The guilt.
“My sisters was arrested and all anyone could ask me about was Daniel,” she growled, that memory still sour. “I didn’t give a fuck about him or about petty gossip. Then Hayley called and accused me of all this shit so I just… I just said, ‘Yeah, sure. That sounds right.’ And I put the phone down.”
Evan was quiet for a moment, and she waited, enjoying the way he held her. Casually, thoughtlessly, his fingers still tracing over her back. Like this kind of intimacy was normal.
“So,” he said, “that’s where all these rumours come from? About you sleeping with half the town?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I actually did that.”
“What?!” he spluttered. Then he laughed. “Are you serious?”
“I mean… I did tell you upfront.”
“I thought you were just being weird!”
She raised her brows at him. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, based on how long it took us to get here…” His smile was rueful.
“It wasn’t like this,” she admitted. “It was more like, everyone assumed I was easy because of the thing with Daniel, so guys started asking me out. And I…” She sighed. “I’d only ever been with him. And I hadn’t enjoyed it, and he made me feel weird and fucked up and kind of gross, so I thought, I’ll sleep with someone else and that will fix it, but it didn’t, exactly—so I kept going. And by the time I realised nothing would fix it—well. This is a small town.”
Evan rose up on his elbows, bent to press a kiss against her hair. “I’m sorry, love.”
It was sounding too much like a tragedy for Ruth’s liking, so she added, “People do exaggerate, though. It was only, like, fifteen guys.”
“That’s disappointing,” Evan said dryly. “People act like you slept with a Roman legion. You act like you slept with a Roman legion.”
Ruth sighed. “Okay. You caught me. I have not slept with 5000 men. Yet.”
“Shocker.”
“Rude!”
“I’m sure you could,” he said, his voice teasing. “If you really wanted to. Live your dreams, and all that.”
“I appreciate the support.”
“You’re welcome. But, while we’re on the subject, I’d actually rather you stuck with me.”
She smiled. It was an involuntary smile, an overflowing of the steady warmth that his presence sparked inside her chest. “Oh, you would?”
“Yeah. What do you think about that?”
“I think that sounds just fine.” She pressed a kiss to his chest and was momentarily embarrassed by the hint of affection. Then she decided that revelling in mushy feelings was much more fun than being embarrassed and kissed his chest again.
And then, because her orgasm had clearly fried her brain, she murmured, “Does that mean you’re my boyfriend, or…?”
He burst out laughing. “Yes, Ruth. Just so we’re very, very clear—” He wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her up his body until they were nose to nose. “I’m your boyfriend.” He kissed her gently, and she felt a flicker of warmth in her heart that was as soft as his lips.
“Good,” she whispered. She felt slightly conscious of the fact that all her weight was on him now, but when she tried to move, he held her tighter.
Then he said, “Does it upset you?”
He could’ve been talking about anything, considering the conversation they’d just had. But she knew, because she knew him, that all he really wanted was to make her talk. And recently, she’d been feeling the urge to do so more and more.
“Lots of things upset me,” she said slowly. “Like the fact that Hannah made a bad decision on my behalf, and she’s the one who has to deal with it. The fact that people I grew up with won’t even speak to me anymore. Mostly, what upsets me is the fact that… So many people mistreated me, still mistreat me, and I didn’t feel like it was worth fighting back.”
Ruth’s words sped up as she spoke, thoughts and feelings she’d been struggling to identify suddenly seeming obvious. It was as if the act of speech cleared the murky waters of her mind, finally allowed her to see herself.
“I felt like I should be punished,” she admitted. “For everything. So I stayed inside instead of taking up space. I let people think the worst instead of defending myself. You know, Hayley stopped talking to me so damn fast but Maria—I had to push Maria away. I suppose I pushed a few people away. It seemed easier.”
She was remembering, all of a sudden, just how many times people had reached out to her, and how many times she’d turned on them. Like the women who ran the town library Ruth used to volunteer at. She’d left because of Hannah, but she’d cut them off completely—women who used to be her friends.
“I was just tired,” she realised. “Tired of hiding things and tired of being talked about. I didn’t want to add to the conversation, even if the conversation was about me. I didn’t want to convince people that I was wort
h respect, because I shouldn’t have to.”
“I understand.” He kissed her again, a quick, light touch. But she kissed him back, harder, because she wanted to pour as much affection into this man as possible, and she couldn’t do it with words.
But then, as his hands began to roam beyond the planes of her back, as his kiss heated and his cock hardened beneath her, a thought struck. She pulled back, ignoring his frustrated moan.
“I bet you don’t have a satin pillowcase, do you?” she asked.
He frowned. “A what?”
With a laugh, Ruth shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
29
Evan had thought Ruth would be a light sleeper, but she barely stirred when his alarm went off the next morning. When he kissed her cheek, she gave a sleepy grumble and swatted at him. So he kissed her again, on the back of her neck, and then her shoulder.
She mumbled something that sounded like, “Ug uff.”
He ignored the fact that he needed to get up and shower within the next ten minutes. Ruth’s back was pressed to his chest, her feet tangled with his, and the frown forming above her tightly-closed eyes made his heart swell. Apparently, he even loved the sight of her scowl.
“What was that?” he asked lightly. Then he bit her ear.
She snorted. “Go away, you horrible man.”
He laughed. “Alright. I have to get up anyway.”
Immediately, she rolled over and slung an arm around his neck. “Why?”
“Oh, now you want to talk?”
“Shut up.” She snuggled into his chest and wrapped a leg around him. “Go back to sleep.”
“I wish.” Gently, Evan disentangled their bodies and got up, checking the time. He could just fit in a shower, if he had a protein shake for breakfast.
When he came back from the bathroom, he found Ruth sitting up in his bed, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Her hair frizzed out around her head like a crown, her braid having lost most of its structural integrity. She offered him a bleary smile. She looked beautiful.
“What are you doing today?” he asked as he grabbed his clothes.
She appeared to consider that for a moment. “I don’t know. Um… Do you need me to leave? When you do?”
“Nah.” He grabbed the door key from his bedside table and tossed it gently toward her. “You’ll be around when I get home, right?”
Silence.
Evan looked up to find that Ruth had, apparently, caught the keys. She was holding them up in the air, staring at her hand as if it were an alien thing. “Huh,” he said, a smile curving his lips. “I didn’t know you could catch.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You are so annoying.”
“So I hear. From you. Every day.”
“Shut up. Are you… are you sure you want to give me these?”
Evan arched a brow. “Why? Are you going to steal all my shit and hide it in your lair? Also known as the flat next door?”
“Maybe,” she said lightly. “I mean, I might steal your bed.”
“You don’t need to steal my bed.” After dragging on a shirt, he leant down to kiss her. Her lips were soft and warm, gliding over his with aching gentleness, and when he pulled back, she was smiling.
“Are you saying I can use your bed whenever I want?” she teased.
“Yeah. But also, because I’m gonna fix yours after work.”
Ruth’s jaw dropped. “Fix it?”
“Yep.” He found a jacket and slung it on. “Just need to drill the slats into the frame and cut you a new support beam. There’s a lumber yard next to the forge. I can probably grab something there.”
“But…” she spluttered. “You said you couldn’t fix it!”
“No, I didn’t. I said you could sleep with me.”
“You prick!”
He grinned. “I think it was a very charitable offer. It’s not like I could’ve fixed it last night.”
“Charitable,” she repeated, giving him a look. But he heard the laughter in her voice and saw the tilt of her lips that she tried so hard to suppress.
“Yeah. Listen, I have to go,” he said, searching for his wallet.
“Are you walking?”
“At this rate, I’d better drive.”
“Great,” she said. “You can take me home later.”
Evan paused in his search, turning to stare at her. “Home as in…?”
“Home,” she repeated. “From town. I’m going in this afternoon to do some things.”
He blinked. “You are?”
“Yes.” After a moment, when he continued staring, Ruth rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you running late?”
Right. He spotted his wallet on the dresser and snatched it up. “Just… be careful.” Don’t get into fights with Amazonian women.
“In case I get chased with pitchforks, you mean?”
“Something like that.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Text me when you… well, text me on a regular basis.”
“Yes, Mother.”
He snorted. Said goodbye. Tried not to worry and failed.
Ruth took her time getting ready that morning. Which is to say, she dozed for an hour or three after Evan left, helped herself to Earl Grey and English muffins, and, just for the hell of it, used a shit-ton of his lemongrass body wash.
Because she could, because he wouldn’t mind, because he’d given her his key.
He loved her. Funny how that knowledge left her both sober and elated all at once.
It was around midday when she finally dragged herself over to her own flat, locking Evan’s door carefully. She hung his key up on a coat peg beside her own before heading to her bedroom.
There was a tense moment when she forgot that her bed was a rickety heap, tried to sit down on it, stopped herself halfway, and thought she might go toppling into a stack of comics as she twisted. Luckily, she just landed on her arse instead.
It was, she decided, as good a place as any for this phone call.
Hannah answered the phone with a bright and chirpy, “He-llo?” Which told Ruth that she had company.
“Where are you?” Ruth asked.
“You’ve just caught me on my break,” Hannah said. Her voice was still unreasonably perky. She was probably sitting by a manager or something.
Hannah liked to put her best foot forward. Continuously. Even at a minimum-wage waitressing job she desperately wanted to leave.
“Right. You working tomorrow?”
“I am available tomorrow afternoon, from around five o’clock,” Hannah said smoothly. “Can I help you with something?” What do you need?
Ruth smiled slightly. “I just thought we could go somewhere. Out.”
There was a pause. Then Hannah said carefully, “I am only available in the evening.”
Because Ruth didn’t really go out in the evenings. She occasionally went out during the day, when most people were at work. In the evenings, Ravenswood was really busy, and things like—well, things like that nightmare with Hayley occurred.
Ruth forced herself to shrug, even though Hannah couldn’t see. She was method acting, or something along those lines. She was doing a Hannah; behaving as if she was already who she wanted to be. “That’s okay.”
“It is?” Hannah sounded dubious.
“Yeah. I go where I want now. It’s this new thing I’m trying.”
“Okay,” Hannah said finally. “Well, that would be lovely. I approve, actually.”
“Cool. I’ll call you later.”
Because right now, she had plans to attend to.
After fixing her hair, Ruth rifled through her wardrobe for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Usually, her choice in clothes revolved around the way a fabric felt against her skin, whether the cut would make her feel like she was suffocating in strangeness. On the rare occasions when she left the house, she had to take all of that into account, and also try to look…
“What?” she mused out loud. “Try to look what? Respectable?” A slight smile curving her lips,
she shook her head. That wouldn’t do at all.
And just like that, her choice was obvious. She pulled out an old, worn, Captain America tee and a soft pair of leggings. She’d go about her business, as she had a right to, and she’d look like herself while she did it.
The library fell silent as Ruth entered.
Actually, no; she was probably imagining that. Definitely imagining that. It was a bloody library. It had been silent in the first place.
She kept her spine straight and her footsteps steady as she approached the front desk. Penny Clarke was there, tapping away at the computer, her gaze occasionally flicking to a handwritten list on the desk beside her. But Ruth knew that, soon enough, Penny’s customer service Spidey-senses would kick in.
Sure enough, a moment later, Penny looked up. Her smile was bright and welcoming—an automatic reflex that faltered as soon as she saw Ruth.
Just keep going. One foot in front of the other.
Ruth plastered a polite smile onto her face as she approached. “Hi, Penny,” she said quietly.
There was a pause. A pause in which Ruth worried that this arguably reckless decision was going to backfire awfully. She became acutely aware of the pressure of eyes on her, all around her—from the old Hykeham sisters by the audiobook section to Tim Mosely, fluttering his paper loudly by the window.
But Ruth focused on Penny. And so, she saw the exact moment when Penny’s shock dissolved into… pleasure?
“Ruth Kabbah!” she cried. Except Penny was more soft-spoken than anyone Ruth had ever met, and so her cry was at the level of the average person’s murmur. “Fancy seeing you,” Penny continued, her round face splitting into a smile.
She flicked off the brake on her chair and began wheeling around the counter. Ruth, moving as if in a dream, found herself bending to accept her old mentor’s hug.
“I haven’t seen you in an age,” Penny said. She kept a grip on Ruth’s arm even after they separated, her grasp firm and motherly. “Where on earth have you been?”
“Nowhere,” Ruth said, honestly enough.
“I suppose not! My Norm said he was round just the other day, seeing to your shower. I said, ‘Did you tell her?’ I’m always asking after you, I am. He says—”
Hold Me Close: A Cinnamon Roll Box Set Page 18