Evie's Knight

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Evie's Knight Page 6

by Kimberly Krey


  After a few beats, she motioned for Kelly to join them. Once her all-too-willing friend was dancing close by, Evie slid away, hoping to pass the attractive stranger onto her. The handsome blond danced with Kelly for a moment, but then came back to Evie, dancing up against her from behind. Before she saw it coming, fast hands gripped hold of her thighs, slid up to her rear, grabbing handfuls of her flesh through the denim.

  Evie spun around and shot him a loaded glare. “Don’t touch me like that again.”

  He looked directly at her with a confused expression, then spoke into her ear, “Say that again?”

  Evie leaned forward, found the words once more, heat still burning from the unwelcome grope. “I said,” she put some sting into the words, “I don’t want you to touch me like that again.”

  “Sure you do.” The fast-moving punk slid one hand up the back of her leg, quickly rounding her curves.

  Evie shoved him against the chest. “You’re a jackass!” she yelled over the blaring music. She took off into the crowd, not missing the way Kelly had given her offender a half-smile and shrug.

  She pushed her way through the bouncing mass and bolted for the narrow hall, glad to find a bathroom close by. Kelly followed her in, the music muffling as she closed the door behind them.

  “Did you see that guy?” Evie asked.

  “Yeah, he was hot.”

  “Not his face–his hands. He was all over me.”

  “Well, when they look like that…” Kelly left it there, grinning like the devil herself.

  Evie shook her head and laughed. “You are so bad,” she said. “If it doesn’t bother you then you can have him.”

  “It wasn’t me he was after,” Kelly said.

  Evie glanced in the mirror, wondering if her clothing selection for the night was sending the wrong idea. “Well, I’m going to keep my distance. This is worse than the club.”

  Noise flooded the bathroom as they pulled open the door once more. “Let’s grab a drink and check this place out,” Kelly said over the music.

  Evie glanced toward the front door as they approached the tables. “It’ll really suck if he doesn’t come.”

  “He’ll come,” Kelly said, filling her plastic cup.

  After pouring herself a Coke, Evie looped her arm around Kelly’s. “I can’t wait to see more of this house.” As they headed up the steep, winding staircase, she eyed the balcony above, the many doors along the hallway. Several of them were closed.

  “Do you think it’s too early to worry about interrupting people?” Evie asked.

  Kelly shrugged. “It’s probably never too early.” They toured the top level of the home, peeking only in the rooms with open doors.

  “These rooms are huge,” Evie said, enjoying the old fashioned charm of the home. As they headed back down the staircase, Evie saw the front door creak open. A large group of gabby girls stepped in from the dark night, and Evie sighed. Where is he?

  Kelly gripped her arm as they rounded the foyer, answering her silent question. “Calvin’s here.” She motioned toward the kitchen.

  Dressed in black denim and a grey polo shirt, Calvin strode toward them. There was no hiding her smile as she saw him. The gentle kindness on his face, the spark of mischief in his eyes, everything about him was entirely alluring.

  Elated to see him, Evie wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling the heavenly scent of crisp, woodsy pine. “You’re here,” she said, not caring that she’d hugged him so boldly.

  Calvin wrapped his arms around her waist in return. “I’m glad to see you too.”

  “Not to interrupt you lovebirds, but I’m going to go dance,” Kelly said.

  Evie released her hold on Calvin. “Alright. We’ll be in there in a minute.” She turned to him. “Where’s your brother?”

  He looked over his shoulder. “That’s a good question.”

  “Light of day, or dark of night?” Evie tossed the slip of paper onto the heap of others and looked at Calvin expectedly. “Well?”

  Darkness loomed around him. Crickets nearly quit chirping as if waiting for him to answer as well. She was certain he’d say he preferred the dark of night to the day.

  “It depends,” he said. “I like them both for different reasons.”

  Kelly piped up. “Yeah. That one’s not very revealing, anyway. Draw a different one.” A mild wind kicked up, made warm by the space heaters surrounding the deck.

  Evie reached her hand into the jar of scraps once more, snagged a folded edge between her fingers, and opened the tiny slip. She felt her face heat up as she read over it silently. “I thought these were supposed to be simple ‘getting to know you’ questions. This one’s intense.”

  Kelly leaned across the patio table, her blue eyes wide with interest. “What does it say?”

  Evie looked at Calvin. “Highly virtuous, or slightly promiscuous?” Whispers were sent around the canopied porch. Her past with Tyler flared up in her memory like the stinging of a bee, seeping doubt and suspicion into her mind. “So which do you prefer, Calvin?”

  He seemed to consider it, eyeing the several ladies seated at the round table among them. His magnetic gaze locked on Evie’s as he responded. “Virtuous.”

  A few of the girls at the table gushed in oohs and ahs. One threw out a bitter yeah right. Evie held back her own comment, wanting to believe him, wondering if she could.

  “Then you’ve got the right girl.” Kelly said to Calvin. “In fact, it’s a good thing you’re here. Evie’s virtue was nearly compromised in there tonight. She was being groped against her will.”

  Evie crunched the melting ice cube in her mouth. “Hey, I held my own,” she said, offended.

  Calvin rested an elbow onto the table, looking at Kelly. A menacing spark flared in his dark eyes. His words came out low and even. “Who was bothering her?”

  Kelly shrugged. “Some guy, but Evie’s right. She put him in his place.”

  He turned to her, anger tensing his brows. “What happened in there?”

  Evie shrugged. “It’s a party with a bunch of drunk guys. He grabbed my butt. I pushed him away. That’s it.” She never would’ve pinned Calvin as the fighting type, but there was no need to get him all worked up. “Seriously. I’m fine.”

  He seemed to relax, but only slightly, a disturbed frown pulling at the corners of his lips.

  The mood lightened when Kelly spoke up and shared her tale of the clueless dancer. The one who’d been glued to her rear end. Calvin even laughed when he heard about the way Kelly told him off.

  “Women put up with a lot, don’t they?” he said.

  Kelly laughed. “That’s for sure.”

  The patio door behind Evie slid open, and Calvin looked up. “Oh, here’s Parker,” he said. I want to introduce you.” He scooted his chair back and came to a stand.

  Before Evie could turn around, she noticed Kelly’s eyes widen.

  “What?” Evie mouthed.

  “Ladies, this is my brother, Parker. Parker, this is Evie and her friend, Kelly.”

  The first thing Evie saw as she spun around was Tyler. Great. Calvin’s brother is hanging out with my ex-boyfriend. That thought was wiped clean from her head as she eyed the handsome blond next to him, who was shaking hands with Kelly.

  “Charmed,” Kelly said.

  Parker took hold of Evie’s limp and lifeless hand as she came to a stand. “Hellooo, Evie,” he sang smoothly.

  “Parker,” she forced out the word.

  He leaned closely to her, a wry smile on his face, and spoke just loud enough for her to hear. “You can call me Jackass.”

  Evie could hardly believe the groping perv was Calvin’s brother. She puzzled over whether she should tell Calvin they’d already met, in a way, but quickly decided against it. From the way Calvin spoke, he already had enough to worry about when it came to Parker; she certainly didn’t want to throw herself into the mix.

  When she glanced back at Kelly, giving her the let’s pretend that didn’t happen
look, Kelly flashed her a wink.

  Evie put her hand on Calvin’s arm. “You mind if we go inside for a bit?”

  He looked at her as if trying to dissect her request. “Sure. We’ll catch up with you guys in a bit,” he said, lifting his chin toward his brother.

  Evie eyed Kelly on her way in, watched her pat the chair beside her. Parker slunk into the seat, the rest of the group joining them as well. “Let’s get to know you boys,” Kelly said, sliding her hand into the jar.

  It was probably all in her head, but Evie was certain Tyler and Parker were sharing details with one another–talking about what a horrible prude she was. She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of things they might say to Calvin as well.

  “Is everything okay?” Calvin asked once they got inside. His words were nearly swallowed by the relentless pounding of the song.

  Evie nodded, feeling sick suddenly.

  He motioned for her to follow him to a corner off the dining area. The music’s volume dropped, but it was still loud enough he had to talk over it. “Do you want to go find a quiet place?”

  She did want to find a quiet place, but she wondered if it was for the same reasons Calvin wanted to. He’d said he wasn’t interested in promiscuous women; hopefully he wasn’t about to prove himself a liar right then and there. “Where did you have in mind?”

  He leaned his shoulder against the wall and shrugged. “Have you eaten yet? I know it’s late, but we could sneak out of here and grab a bite to eat.”

  She smiled, leaning against the wall as well. “That sounds nice. I made dinner, but never got around to eating it. Let me just text Kelly.” She pulled her cell from her pocket. “I’m telling her we’ll be back in an hour. Does that sound about right?”

  “Perfect. Have her tell Parker too, why don’t you? That way he won’t assume I’ve lured you into one of the bedrooms to have my way with you.”

  She glanced up at him, distracted by the involuntary thrill that rushed through her at his words. She wasn’t sure which part had caused it; hearing him talk about having his way with her, or the idea that he wanted to protect her image.

  He gave her his half-smile; the one that sort of tugged at one corner of his lips.

  After Evie slid the phone back into her pocket, Calvin reached out, took hold of her hand, and laced his fingers between hers. She looked down at their joined hands, taking pleasure in the sensation of skin on skin. The living connection between them seemed to thrive each time they were together. The physical contact, his gentle touch, only heightened that sensation–completed it. His fingers slid up the length of hers, slowly, gently, then back. The motion caused her eyes to shut while she focused on the incredible sensation, the unspeakable energy that pulsed through her body.

  He repeated the action again before taking a firmer grip on her hand. “Let’s get going.” Keeping hold of her hand, Calvin led her through the crowded space.

  She liked the way he’d done it. The idea that he was staking his claim on her. Telling everyone there–with the gesture alone–that she belonged to him.

  Chapter Eight

  “So, let’s hear it.” Kelly linked her arm through Evie’s as they scurried down the mansion’s porch steps. “Is he a good kisser?”

  Evie shivered from the chill in the air; it hadn’t felt so cold when she was out with Calvin an hour ago. “We didn’t kiss.”

  Kelly stopped walking, thwarting Evie’s next stride. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No. But we held hands.”

  Kelly resumed the pace. “Evie, you’ve been holding hands with boys since the first grade.”

  “I know. But it never felt the way it did with Calvin. Seriously, there was something different about the way he did it. Sensual, almost.” Just the memory brought warmth to her shivering body. She pressed the button on her key, wondering how much further down the road they were parked. It beeped and lit up a few cars down.

  Kelly didn’t speak until they were back in the car. “You’re in trouble,” she said with a laugh.

  “Why would you say that?” Evie started the car and veered onto the road.

  “Cuz you’re so hot for this guy that holding hands is getting you all worked up. Just think about what the kiss will be like. Assuming he’s a good kisser.”

  She had already thought about kissing Calvin Knight. A lot. “I don’t see how that’s trouble.”

  “You don’t?” Kelly rubbed her hands in front of the vents. “Like you’re going to be able to put on the brakes when the guy’s that hot. There’s no way.”

  Evie craned her neck to look at her. “So you think the only reason I didn’t go further with Tyler is because he wasn’t hot enough?”

  Dim light from the passing streetlamp threw dark shadows across Kelly’s face. “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “Tyler’s a creep. Calvin isn’t. It’s easier to put on the brakes with sleazy guys, that’s all.”

  “Hmm.” Evie didn’t know what to say back to that. She’d been dreaming about kissing Calvin Knight, admiring the sculpted shape of his lips, wondering what it would feel like to have them pressed against her own. She straightened up and cleared her throat, realizing she’d slipped into another daydream about him. Hmm. Maybe I am in trouble.

  Dreams of Calvin held Evie in a blissful sleep well into the morning. She stretched, yawned, and pulled the covers over her shoulders before checking the time–just past ten. That meant, since it was Saturday, that the newspaper had been there, waiting on her porch for nearly five hours.

  She forced herself to stay in place, recalling all the times she’d woken up early–her heart racing like a drum–just to look through that stupid paper and see if her mother’s name was printed among the dead. She resented all the time and effort she’d put into the unhealthy ritual, wished she could just break herself free of it. Still, the mere idea of checking the pages had Evie more awake than she wanted to be. She’d get up, but she wouldn’t check the obituaries until she was done running.

  The smell of toast wafted through the stairwell as she climbed up the stairs. Her running shoes lay in the laundry room. As Evie wedged her feet into them, she saw her dad sitting at the table, paper in hand.

  “Morning.” He glanced away from the page. “Heading out to the track?”

  “Yeah.” She eyed the stiff folds of the newspaper, pressed by the sudden urgency to have it in her own hands. What if it was in there, evidence of her mother’s death, printed on those pages and she didn’t even know it? “I’ll, uh, want to look through that when I get back,” she said.

  He nodded. “Okay.” Yet as Evie turned to head out the door, he spoke up again. “You do realize I’m almost finished with it, right?”

  What was that supposed to mean? “So?” She fiddled with her earphones, half-tempted to crank up the music before he spoke up again.

  “So, I’m almost finished looking through the entire paper. And if I saw something that affected you, I would tell you.”

  Her shoulders tensed. “So what?” She glared at the door a few yards ahead.

  “So, maybe you don’t actually need to look it over once you get back.”

  Evie puffed out an irritated breath while striding toward the back door, pausing once she grabbed the brass knob. “Geeze, Dad, that’s great to know. Thanks.” Of all the mornings to bug her about the newspaper–why had he chosen this one? His stupid comments only made her want to cling onto the sick habit all the more.

  After a satisfying door slam, she blasted the volume on her music and jogged down the back porch steps. The sky, a vast wash of pale blue, showed no signs of the storm promised by the clueless weatherman from Dad’s news cast. Evie found herself longing for the massive clouds to gather in union, unleash their fury on the earth so she could stand beneath and drink it in.

  For now, she had her own storm to deal with. Tomorrow she’d have to commit to a theme for her art project, reveal the momentous event she would let inspire her assignment. And
though she’d tried to find something to equal its depth, not one event had affected her more than her mom walking out of her life.

  Evie rarely tapped into those buried emotions, but when she did, a towering flood of hurt and grief consumed her in a way that was almost crippling. It was like piercing a mighty dam with a sharp, well-crafted dagger. Just one pointed thought could unleash the destructive downpour, and before she knew it, she was drowning in the misery of it all.

  Evie strode onto the running track as a new song kicked up. The fast-paced tune blasted loud and angry–thick with all the angst and frustration inside her. She picked up her pace to match the steady beat. As soon as she found the right cadence–her feet hitting the pavement with each pounding bass–Evie let her thoughts drift back to that unspeakable time. The moments flashed through her mind like vivid photos.

  Mom’s scribbled words in black ink.

  The gaping loss Evie felt in her absence.

  At the mere recollection, the void returned, eating at her insides like a ravenous fiend. Her legs sped in a reckless blur as new images flashed to the forefront.

  Nine pastel candles on a store-bought cake.

  Mom’s empty chair in the distance.

  Mile after mile, the living hole within her spread, devouring everything healthy and thriving–bite by vicious bite. Silent tears slipped down Evie’s cheeks as she replayed the events that had followed.

  Dad’s frantic voice seeping through the vents–his desperate plea as he phoned Mom’s every acquaintance. She could still picture–down to every winding nook–the texture of her ceiling as shadows sprawled over its surface. Mom is gone. She doesn’t want us anymore.

  The void feasted further, gnawing at all that was good and whole. Gorging until there was nothing left.

  With her run reduced to a weakened jog, Evie approached the back porch, feeling like a war-beaten soldier in defeat. She stood near the door, smearing tears from her eyes and cheeks, fanning the heat and redness from her face.

 

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