by Maegan Abel
Gavin’s brow furrowed and he shook his head. “As much as you’d enjoy having me between your thighs, that’s not what I’m after here.” He gave me the same cocky smile from yesterday. “Plus, you owe me.”
At his words, and the insinuation behind them, I lost my grip on Stitch. I grabbed for him again as he started sniffing Gavin intently, his tail wagging after a few seconds when Gavin’s hand stroked his back. I shook my head, letting out a small relieved breath that Gavin wasn’t bleeding, and muttered, “Um…how do I owe you?”
“Well, since I never filled out any paperwork and I didn’t cuff you, I managed to keep you out of trouble. You owe me.” I frowned when I realized this was his angle and he was going to work it. Dammit.
“You resisted the urge to cuff me? I’m impressed,” I said as I leaned against the doorframe, pretending to consider his offer. That stupid…whatever it was buried inside me was reaching for him. I could almost see it, but I needed to fight it more than I needed to give in. “But still. No.”
He leaned against the opposite side of the frame as he crossed his arms, that cocky grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But you were impressed with me. Give me a chance and I might impress you again.”
I tried to ignore the way my entire being calmed in his presence. Looking down to avoid his face, I nudged Stitch with my foot as he continued to give Gavin his full attention. “I doubt it. Unless you’ve learned to catch the football during a game-winning play.” Glancing up, I caught his raised eyebrow and couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s right, I Googled you.” I didn’t want to admit it, but I was curious about him.
“Who’s stalking who here?” He didn’t bother trying to hide his enjoyment of this.
“I blame the crippling boredom. It fucked with my judgment. Besides, the video of you dropping to your knees like a bad teen movie was classic. I probably watched it fifteen times. I want to make a GIF with the word ‘fail’ drawn across it in big, bold letters.”
The amusement was clear in his eyes as he held his hand over his heart. “Ouch. Keep the gloves above the belt,” he laughed, straightening and taking a step closer. My body responded—every single part of it. “But, believe it or not, my reflexes have improved since high school.”
Yeah, I wanted him to prove that. I wanted him to prove it something fierce. I swallowed and shook away the thought. “Oh really? And how long did it take you to get my drunk ass into the back of your squad car?”
His smirk turned into the melty, delicious look that made everything inside me crave him even more. “I could always throw you over my shoulder now and show you.” His voice was all kinds of husky and it took every ounce of strength I had to resist the urge to shudder.
“You’d have to cuff me.” I tried to sound firm, but my voice came out all breathy. Unfortunately, the idea wasn’t completely unappealing in my current state. Stay strong, Evangelie.
He stepped closer again and the heat from his body enveloped me. Goosebumps threatened to form and I did my damnedest to will those fuckers away. I would not react. I would…stare at his throat. His throat was safe. But damn, that jaw. Even covered in dark scruff, I could see how perfect it was. I shook my head.
His jaw?
Really?
I wanted to smack myself.
He was quiet for so long, I finally glanced up at his face. Mistake. “I could do that, but it would be so much sweeter if you’d just give in.”
Inches. There were only two, maybe three of them between us. I was going to kiss him. I knew it. There was not a single ounce of self-restraint left in me with him so close.
Thankfully, at the point of no return, Stitch nudged his way between our bodies. I could’ve kissed him for the interruption as I stepped away. Distance was my friend.
“What’s his name?” Gavin asked, drawing my attention from Stitch as he ran his hand over his head.
Stitch licked Gavin’s hand, tongue lolling, and my gratitude switched to irritation. Some guard dog. I turned and headed into the house, needing to put more distance between Gavin and myself. Although, this also gave him the impression he was invited in. I gave up.
“His name is Stitch.”
“Cute,” Gavin said, closing the door as he followed me through the house. He stopped in the entrance to the living room and glanced around, taking it in.
I plopped, in a completely unladylike manner, onto the sofa, tugging the blanket off the back. I wasn’t cold; it was a million degrees outside and I was in shorts and a tank top. The blanket was a protective shield. “The only reason I’m allowing you to set foot in this house is because my dog likes you.”
“He has good taste,” Gavin said, walking over to a picture of Cara and I. “Who is this?”
“My sister,” I answered automatically before asking a question of my own. “Why are you really here, Gavin?”
His head turned to me and then back to the picture, studying it as he ignored my question. “You have a sister?”
“Yes. Why are you here?” I repeated, noting I could put a word to what I was feeling now: content. And what the fuck was that about? Content, my ass. The blanket was obviously giving me heat stroke. I was becoming delusional.
“Is she your biological sister?” he asked, sounding confused. His complete disregard for my question was irritating.
“Yes. She’s ten months older than me and her name is Cara. She lives here and I’m just crashing temporarily. She’s my only sibling. Our parents are dead and we were raised by our grandmother. She moved us to Oregon when I was seven to get me the hell away from you. She died sixteen days ago and I came here to make sure Cara was okay. Fuck. Anything else you want to know? Our birth weights, the name of my first kiss, the date of my last pelvic exam?” I snapped, pulling in a heavy breath as his eyes searched my face. My mouth always managed to get me into trouble and I was learning quick that Gavin could bring out my anger in abundance.
“You know why I’m here, don’t you, Evangelie?” he asked, watching my face closely. I tried, I really did, to keep my expression neutral, but the weight of the word hung between us.
Infinity. That’s why he was here. That fucking curse had been following my family for three generations now and I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let myself fall for what would ultimately destroy me.
I wanted to be flippant, to brush him off, but the way my full name coming out of his mouth made me feel…it was impossible. “If I agree to dinner, will you leave?” I hated myself just a little bit for even considering it, but I needed him out of the house.
Looking up at the ceiling, he closed his eyes and I watched his jaw clench like he was in pain. When he finally lowered his chin to meet my eyes, his expression was raw and I felt like I could see every part of him. “I’ll leave either way if that’s what you really want.”
And there it was.
The honesty and openness of his words made it impossible for me to be rude. And it terrified me. I needed him not to be so vulnerable because I had to be able to protect myself and pushing him away was the best way I knew.
“Dinner. That’s it. Don’t expect more,” I said, standing and walking toward the door. I needed him to leave. I needed space to deal with the mass of emotions trying to overwhelm me. I needed to think.
He followed, but didn’t speak, keeping his eyes trained on the floor as he walked past me. He wasn’t proud he’d won. He wasn’t even happy about it. That almost made it worse. I don’t think I’d ever felt anything cut quite so deep. I bit my lip, confused and fighting the urge to comfort him. He grabbed my hand and briefly squeezed my fingers as he continued out to the porch. I watched, that ache inside me growing, until I couldn’t stand it.
“Gavin,” I called when he was almost to his car. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at me. I gave him a smile, a little shocked it didn’t feel at all forced. The need to console him had taken over. “Don’t make me regret this.” It came out playful, and to my relief, he really did smile then.
/> “My reflexes aren’t the only thing that’s improved since high school,” he said, giving me a wink. I wasn’t sure he was completely invested in the joke, but the way it made me feel, that contentment, brought back the fear. I could see the moment he read the change in my face. “You won’t regret it, Evie.” That was a promise. He climbed into his car and I closed the door, leaning back against it as I sighed.
That same feeling of something ripping apart inside me and leaving me hollow overwhelmed me, telling me he was gone. “I already regret it,” I whispered, even though Stitch was the only one around to hear.
I didn’t want to be nervous. It wasn’t a feeling I enjoyed, especially when it came to Evie, but it was one I had to deal with—at least when I had this version of her.
The second she saw my nametag on the beach, she made it clear how she felt, and I was worried what that would mean for us. It didn’t look good, but I clung to hope like a life preserver. She’d agreed to dinner and hadn’t told me to walk away, so for now, I was choosing to believe we would be okay.
She also responded more to my vulnerability, which was unfortunate. It wasn’t that I had an issue being vulnerable for Evie, but I had a tendency to cover it with overconfidence and that put up her guard. I needed to break through that rock hard exterior.
I had to tread lightly.
Grabbing the sunflower I’d bought knowing they were her favorite, I jogged up the steps of the porch and allowed myself one deep breath before knocking. When I didn’t hear footsteps and Stitch continued to bark, I worried she was standing me up. Just as I raised my hand to knock again, the door swung open and my jaw hit the ground.
She was wearing what had to be the tightest black dress I’d ever seen. With every one of her curves on display, I lost all train of thought.
“Damn. I was hoping you’d forgotten me,” she said, already on the defensive. I had to force my eyes to hers.
“Couldn’t let you off that easy,” I replied, giving her a grin as I held out the sunflower. She eyed it for a moment before looking back up at me. Did she remember? I waited, hoping maybe something was coming back to her.
I’d given Evie a sunflower on our first date in almost every cycle. It had become a tradition I absolutely loved because her response to it was always positive. When she remained silent, I shoved aside my disappointment. She didn’t remember, but that wasn’t her fault. I knew from previous experience she wished she could make herself remember. Through all this, her face remained stoic.
Almost.
Her response was almost always positive.
When she did finally accept the flower, she smirked. “What, is this because I’m a ray of sunshine in your bleak day?”
I stared blankly for a moment, taking the time to reign in my temper. “That was the point I was trying to make, yes. But if you want to continue to mock this, feel free.” Her brow furrowed and she glanced down at the flower in her hand. That was a point for me—not that I was keeping score.
I wasn’t the type to worry about things until I had something solid to worry about. I didn’t stress about what Evie was going through in her life before we met, though I always thought about her. I didn’t want to worry about this yet, but I couldn’t help myself. This was uncharted territory and I wasn’t sure exactly how to go about dealing with it. In the very rare lives where she knew about us, she was usually a much more pleasant person. Not that she wasn’t always sassy and full of life, but this rock hard Evie was more difficult to crack. With as many cycles as we’d been through, it would be impossible for me not to know nearly every version of her.
That also meant I was well aware of my odds.
There was one version of Evie who would most likely reject me. She would either completely disregard our connection or acknowledge it but not care. And right now, that Evie was standing in front of me. I hadn’t figured out how much she knew and hoped I’d be able to learn more tonight, but from what I could tell, she knew at least some of it. I shook off the negativity, forcing myself to focus on the fight at hand.
“So, where are you taking me?” she asked, turning to shove Stitch back and close the door, the flower still in her hand. I tried not to gloat over the small victory and studied her, taking in the dress again and the slight softening of her eyes. That was a positive. I’d made an impact by showing emotion.
“Well, since the weather’s nice, I was planning a walk to the shore. I figured we could choose when we got there. But in those shoes…” I trailed off, my eyes on the heels as I tried not to think about them digging into my ass as she wrapped her legs around me. Fuck, I wasn’t usually this easy to distract.
“I can change,” she offered. “I have some flip flops inside the door.”
“Or we can drive into Charleston. The choice is yours,” I said.
She slipped a key out of the small bag I hadn’t even realized she was carrying and when she kicked off the heels, I almost groaned in disappointment. I briefly considered demanding she leave them on because the beach idea was out, but I knew where that would lead. As much as I wanted the fantasy in my head, it wasn’t time. Not yet.
She disappeared behind the door and Stitch pushed past her, barely giving me time to throw a hand in front of the vital parts before he slammed into me with his full weight. I couldn’t help but chuckle. I gave him my attention in an attempt to get my mind off all the ways I could get Evie out of that dress. I needed to be a gentleman—at least for tonight.
Evie returned then, huffing as she reached for Stitch’s collar and pulled him back toward the house. He whined and nudged himself into the doorway, trying one more time to get out before she shut the door.
“Damn dog,” she muttered, shaking her head as she looked up again and gave me a smile. “Okay, ready.”
I gestured to the stairs leading down from her porch, my eyes immediately falling to her ass as she moved in front of me.
I had to remind myself again why taking her against the wall would be a bad idea.
She spun the stem of the flower as we walked, deep in thought. “Where were you thinking for dinner?” she asked, though I could tell it wasn’t the question on her mind.
“Well, that depends. Do you want safe or are you willing to take a walk on the wild side?”
She laughed and I glanced at her, immediately wanting to see her face. While I could remember our lives, small details sometimes eluded me. The memories got stronger as we got closer but sometimes seeing the similarities in her felt a little like déjà vu. “You’re asking me if I want to walk on the wild side?” She raised an eyebrow.
I chuckled as the night at the beach came back in full force. “Fair enough. Wild it is.”
Every time our eyes met, the connection between us built. It was in the zing resonating through my veins and the fullness of my heart. She felt it too, though she wouldn’t admit it. There was no way she couldn’t. This was a piece of us—a piece of our souls.
“Is it always this hot here?” she asked, using a pinky to pull a strand of hair from her face and force it behind her ear.
“It’s summer,” I reminded her, lifting an eyebrow when she glanced over at me. “And you’re on the coast. It’s humid.”
“It’s stupid hot. People who live here are insane. Why would you choose this?” she asked, but it wasn’t rude. It was genuinely curious.
“Why wouldn’t we? For most of us, it’s the way we grew up. I can’t understand why someone would want to live where it’s raining all the time, but people who have lived in those areas all their lives are happy there.” I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed when she smiled. I was rambling.
“It could be the town motto. ‘Hawk Bay, where you have to wear your swimsuit all summer or ruin every article of clothing you own with sweat stains’. Catchy, right?” Her smile was playful and I laughed, happy to see that emotion lighting her face.
The rest of the walk was comfortable, the conversation staying light, and I was able to keep her smiling. By the ti
me we made it to the boardwalk, my mood was much higher than it had been at the beginning of the date.
I paused in front of Hawk Bay Diner and gestured to the door. When she hesitated, I glanced back at her face. “You don’t like seafood?” I asked, seeing her pained expression.
“No, I…” she glanced over at me, “I do like seafood.”
I wasn’t sure what about this was causing her pain, but I was guessing it had to do with the fact that I knew her favorite flower and food. It probably wasn’t the best idea to use my knowledge to my advantage, but it was just that—an advantage. I was going to take any of those I could get.
When we entered, I discreetly asked the hostess for a booth at the back of the restaurant. The place was packed, as usual, and I had a feeling, given the shift in her mood, this dinner was going to include conversation that didn’t need to be overheard by others.
“Order whatever you want. I’m not picky,” she said, sliding the menu toward me, but that wasn’t true. She was testing me, and I could see it in the way her eyes were both guarded and curious.
The server approached the table quickly, a smile in place though she looked stressed. “Welcome to Hawk Bay Diner. We catch crabs so you don’t have to. What can I get y’all to drink?” Evie snorted and I glanced her way, finding her head down and shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“Two beers,” I said, drawing the server’s glare away from Evie. She smiled at me again.
“Sure thing, Officer Jericho.” With a final look at Evie, she left, making a show of swinging her hips.
When my eyes came back to Evie, she was watching me. “Officer Jericho?” she asked, her tone back to mocking.
“It’s a sign of respect, something people around here have for law enforcement,” I said, keeping my voice even.
“More like she was flirting with you,” she challenged, and I allowed myself a smile.
“Is that a problem?”
She laughed as the server returned with our drinks, dropping Evie’s a little harder than necessary before turning to give me her full attention. “Do you know what you want to order or do you need a little more time?”