by Michelle Lee
At first I was jealous when I found out, and not only because my love for Evan is always just below the surface, but because I was afraid I was going to lose my best friend. Evan, like Evan always does, reassured me I would never lose him—ever. So, I pushed down that jealousy and accepted their relationship. In fact, I grew to really like Paige. She is so different from the girls Evan usually went for. I was kinda surprised when they started dating, but it was obvious they were meant to be.
So, what in the hell happened? Why would they break up after nearly three years together? It just doesn't make sense.
Evan sniffles a few times and then pulls away. His face is streaked with tears. I want to do so much more for him, but I'm not sure what I can do. Bitch out Paige sounds pretty good. Evan steps back toward the couch and sits—I follow. We sit for a while, neither one of us saying a word. I so desperately want to ask him what happened—why they broke up. And just when I'm about to, Evan answers before I even ask. "We decided, since graduation is approaching and our career choices will take us in different directions, to give our relationship a break. The long distance thing isn't really an option. She said it would be too hard."
What? That just doesn't sound like Paige. Something isn't right. He isn't telling me what really happened—I think.
"Evan, I don't understand. I mean, you guys haven't even tried it to know if it won't work. Maybe you guys should just try it first and see. I'm sure…"
He interrupts, "No. We've looked at it from every angle. It's done."
I notice his body becoming slightly rigid.
"Evan, you two love each other so much…there's gotta be a way. Couples do the long distance thing all the time. They make it work. It won't be easy, but…it just doesn't make sense," I offer.
Their reasoning for breaking up is, for lack of a better word, stupid. Why would they throw away what they have? I would hold onto it, hold onto Evan, for dear life. Something isn't right. He goes to the window, and again, I follow.
"Evan, what if…"
"Zoey, just drop it."
"But, Evan…"
"Zoey, I said drop it, please…for me," he demands.
When he turns and faces me, I can see it in his face that there's more to this than he's telling me. When he's ready, he'll tell me everything—I hope. I can't shake the feeling that he's keeping something from me. But, being the friend that I am, I let it go, just like he wants. I nod. Evan quickly changes the subject. "So, since your parents are in Alaska and mine are spending Christmas with Brett and Nina's family, I thought we could spend it together," he says walking back to the couch and turning the television on. Clark is just about to cut the turkey.
"That sounds great. Do you want some eggnog?" I ask, knowing he will say yes.
"Captain's eggnog?" he asks, his face lighting up.
"Of course."
He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Evan's smile always reaches his eyes. That's one of the things I love about him—his infectious smile. I get up and make him a Captain's eggnog. I return to my spot on the couch and hand Evan his drink and pick up mine.
"To spending Christmas with my best friend," he cheers, raising his glass ready to clink with mine.
"To Christmas with my best friend," I return.
We clink our glasses, and Evan practically guzzles the entire thing down.
"Oh, wait, I have something for you," he blurts out and jumps up from the couch. He grabs his coat and reaches into one of the pockets, pulling out a square box wrapped in shiny red paper.
"This is for you. I know it's only Christmas Eve, but what the hell, right?" Evan sits down and hands me the box. I stare at it, the lights of the television flickering off of the paper, almost hypnotizing me.
"Well, just don't stare at it, Richards, open it," he insists, giving me a nudge.
I comply and rip the paper off and open the box. I pull away the tissue paper and what is nestled inside takes my breath away. My fingers graze the silver bracelet inside and then trace the two attached charms.
"Evan, it's…" Words fail me. It's beyond beautiful, beyond perfect.
"Here…let me help you," Evan offers, taking the bracelet out of the box.
"You gotta give me your wrist, Zoey."
I lift my wrist to him as he holds out the bracelet. Dangling from it is a silver book charm; Evan knows me so well. My other hand reaches out and touches the second charm, a silver puzzle piece. I notice an engraving on it. My finger holds it steady so I can clearly see what it says.
Best Friends.
I look from the charm to Evan, and he has that classic smirk on his face. His eyes are smiling as well. "Best Friends," I utter.
Evan begins to fasten the bracelet to my wrist. "Zoey, you've always been my best friend and always will be. I can't imagine you not being in my life, and when I do…"
He finishes clasping it to my wrist and takes my hand in his. I veer my eyes from the bracelet to look at Evan. His eyes are glistening, but this time it isn't for the reason why he's here.
"And when I do…my life isn't worth much. I thank God every day that you moved to Illinois and ended up in my biology class."
A lump makes its way up my throat, and my eyes begin to sting with tears. How did I get so lucky? Evan releases my hand and waits for me to say something. So many words and thoughts rush at me at once, and I don't exactly what to say. Yet again, Evan has left me not only breathless, but speechless as well. He just smiles at me, knowing I need a moment. I cradle my wrist wearing the bracelet in my other hand, my fingers gently stroking the Best Friend puzzle piece. What else can I say, except, "Evan, I can't imagine my life without you either. You are the one person I can count on, I have always counted on. You, our friendship, means everything to me. I…I…This is the most amazing present I have ever gotten. Thank you, thank you."
And all I can do is hug him. His warm and strong arms engulf me. I grip him tighter, and he does the same. When we pull apart, Evan has a weird grin on his face. "What?" I question.
"Um, don't think I'm a total dork, okay?" he asks, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.
"Well, I'll always think a part of you is a dork, but what?" I tease.
Evan rolls his eye, and then he pulls out a silver chain from underneath his shirt. Dangling from it is a silver puzzle piece. "I have the other piece of the puzzle."
My eyes go wide and my heart swells in my chest.
He is beyond amazing.
Paige is one stupid bitch.
As I reach out and take the charm in my hand, the back of my fingers graze his chest, and I feel his heartbeat pounding against them. I swallow and push down the lump that has crept up further in my throat. "Evan, this doesn't make you a dork. You…you…" And I can't finish. The emotionality of what he's given me, what he's showing me, what it all means crashes against me, drowning me. He pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me in a protective cocoon. I never want to not feel his arms around me. I never want to know what my life would be like, could be like, without him in it. That world just doesn't exist. I don't want it to.
After, what seems like a lifetime, Evan releases me, and my body is already protesting the loss of his arms. Then, I remember I have something for him too. I jump up. "I'll be right back."
I quickly get to my room and find the gift I have for him. I walk back down the hall, and Evan doesn't notice me when I enter the room. He's sitting on the couch, his elbows propped up on his knees and his fingers laced behind his bowed head. He looks so weak, so hurt. I could kill fucking Paige. I clear my throat, and Evan immediately pops his head up. He smiles, and his eyes go straight to the rectangular package I'm holding in front of me. His smile widens. I make my way over to him and offer my gift. "Here, this is for you."
Evan gives me my favorite smile and takes the present from my hands. And in true Evan fashion, like a kid on Christmas morning, he tears into it. Paper flies everywhere. I let out a giggle. When he's done ripping apart the paper and the present is reveal
ed, all his movements stop. His fingers trace over the embossed lettering. He looks up at me, and his eyes twinkle and shine.
"Open it," I tell him, nudging him with my foot.
Evan opens up the leather-bound book, his fingers graze the paper inside.
"Zoey, this is…" The words freeze on his lips as he flips through the pages.
"I thought you could sketch your masterpieces in there. All the pages say the same thing: Designed by Evan R. Harris," I inform him.
He continues to thumb through the pages, his head nodding as he does. I shift from foot to foot, waiting for him to finish. Evan sets the book down beside him and in a blink of an eye, he has me in a massive hug, pulling me into him. If he pulls me any closer, we are going to be Siamese Twins. But I don't mind. Evan can hug me as close to him as he needs to. I wouldn't trade with anyone where I am right now. As he pulls away, he kisses the top of my head.
"Zoey, this is the most amazing present anyone has ever given me. Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me." But I do, because what he's given me gives me the exact same feelings.
I simply nod at his words. He lets me go completely, and we both take our spots back on the couch. Evan picks up the remote and turns the volume back up and changes the channel. A Christmas Story comes on. We both settle into the couch to watch Evan's favorite Christmas movie. This isn't going to be the worst Christmas after all.
chapter 13
Item #128751, quantity 3.
Check.
Item #613475, quantity 1?
I very rarely order just one copy.
What book is this?
"Ride 'Em Cowgirl: Sex Position Secrets for Better Bucking"
Ashlee.
That explains it all. She always manages, somehow, to add something to an order I've got going out. She always manages to slip it past me, and I don't have a clue until the book or books actually arrive. Last month it was some erotica, always erotica, novel about I don't know what. All I remember is the title had something to do with shades or something. Ashlee could barely contain herself when I gave it to her, so I couldn't stay mad at her even though she high-jacked my order. What the shipping company must think. Anyway, let's put this little book away somewhere, so Albert or Meredith doesn't mistakenly put it on the shelf.
Item #485217, quantity 4.
Check.
Sex positions.
Sex positions.
Sex positions.
Griffin.
A tingle starts to build in the pit of my core and instinctually my thighs squeeze tightly together, causing whatever friction my body wants and needs. It's so not enough. Griffin and I haven't exactly… I mean, the other night… The other night…
"Everything looks…amazing. I wasn't that hungry, but now…"
My thought trails off, the words forgotten as I look up from my plate of amazing Italian delectables and stare into two smoldering blue eyes. Griffin bites his bottom lip as his eyes travel over my face.
"You look amazing, Zoey. Beyond amazing actually. With you across from me, it's hard to focus on anything but." Griffin's voice is heavy, raspy.
I feel my skin flush, and a tingle swirls deep in my belly. Griffin reaches across the table, seeking out my hand. I easily give it to him. Interlacing my fingers with his I feel the heat from his touch spread throughout my entire body. His eyes bore into me, making me feel every emotion humanly possible—lust, want, desire, fear, excitement. The list goes on and on. Part of me wants to run and hide, but a bigger part of me, the part that knows this feels so right with him, wants to crawl across the table and straddle him.
"Miss Richards, you're blushing," Griffin whispers.
I smile embarrassingly at my plate of pasta. Gah, what this man does to me.
"Zoey, look at me," he gently commands.
When I look up, whatever embarrassment I was feeling quickly fades away. In Griffin's eyes, I see nothing there that embarrasses me. He conveys so many unspoken words with his eyes, and I am instantly calmed; the embarrassing heat on my cheeks recedes.
"That's better. Don't ever hide those beautiful blue eyes, those pouty, kissable lips, and your gorgeous face from me, Zoey. You never have to hide from me, I promise. Never." Griffin gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.
He promises so much, and I want to—I do—believe them all. I haven't felt this safe, this protected, and this sure of someone since… Before I can continue my train of thought, I get up from my chair and find a new seat in Griffin's lap. Surprise flashes in his eyes. I can't say I blame him—I've never done anything this bold or brazen since we started seeing each other. I'm too tired and beyond turned on to give a shit about how long we've been dating to stop myself. My hands lace together behind his neck.
"Zoey, when you, when you bite that perfectly, plump bottom lip of yours, it just…"
And before he can continue, I release my lip and nibble on his instead. Griffin moans into my mouth. Encouraged to say the least, I deepen our kiss, my tongue seeking out his. Griffin doesn't hesitate—his mouth opens instantly, his tongue swirls with mine, the taste of sweet wine lingering between us. I purposely wiggle my ass against him, needing more…always more. His grip tightens on my hips, and even through the fabric of my dress, I can feel the full pressure of his fingertips digging into my flesh. I give my hips another shimmy, and that's when I feel him hard against me. I moan like a porn star into his mouth this time. His hands tighten around my waist, bringing me closer to him. Our chests heave, mirroring each other.
Griffin's mouth leaves mine and trails hot and wet across my jaw and down my neck. "God, Zoey, dinner…"
"Forget dinner," I order as I angle my head back, giving him better access to my neck.
"Already have," he replies, his voice heavy and gruff with want and need.
My dress rides up my thighs as I continue to grind against him. My insides are aflame and begin to coil and tighten. I need more. I need Griffin. I need…
"Special Delivery for Miss Zoey Richards," a voice breaks through.
The book in my hand falls to the floor, and I try to recover. My body is tingling, and I feel light-headed and flushed. The blood in my body rushes from certain places.
"Zoey?"
I turn and see Griffin standing in the doorway, holding a very shiny, silver package in his hand.
"Um, hi?" I try to recover, smoothing my hand over my hair. "Um, how long…how long have you been, um, standing there?" I question, praying it wasn't long.
"Long enough to be curious as to what you were thinking about that's got you all flustered." He quirks an eyebrow at me. He knows…he soooo knows. He smiles and shakes his head. "I haven't been able to concentrate on anything else but the other night."
"Really?" Relief begins to wash through me.
"Don't sound so surprised. Let's just say you definitely emblazoned yourself into my brain for all of eternity." His smile widens, and he looks slightly embarrassed admitting what he just did.
"Who's the one flustered and blushing now, Mr. Cooper?" I tease.
A small chuckle escapes him.
To save us both, I ask, "So, what do you have there?" I gesture to the silver package he's holding.
He looks down at it, as if he's forgotten he's holding it. "Oh, this? I had strict orders to deliver this personally."
"Really?" I quirk an eyebrow.
Griffin shakes his head. "Okay, so maybe I asked if I could deliver it. I really wanted to see you."
"You don't need an excuse to come and see me at work. Or anywhere for that matter," I honestly tell him.
Griffin could surprise me anytime, anywhere, and I would be thrilled to see him. "I'll remember that for next time. Anyway, this is for you." He hands me the package, and I gingerly take it.
"Don't worry, it's not breakable or anything."
I take the very sparkly box—it's like it's been submerged in a glitter bath—and set in on my desk.
"Well, don't just stare at it. Open it." Griffin nods t
owards the package, encouraging me.
"Is it from you?"
"Nope."
"Who?"
"Just open it, Zoey."
As I cut into the seal with a letter opener, the box seems to continue to open on its own. The flaps open, and out springs tiny silver and black balloons. They fly up into the air and stop about a foot from the opening. Attached to them is a card with a black circle with the words "poke me" in the center. I look up at Griffin, and he looks completely and utterly amused. He nods towards the card. I do as it instructed. My ears are assaulted with a very loud rendition of "Get the Party Started" by Pink that drifts out of the box. And then I hear two very familiar voices.
"Hey, party people. You are one of the lucky few to get a personal invite to come to our all-out New Year's Eve party," Geoffrey announces.
"Very lucky," Patrick interjects.
I look up from the box and Griffin is shaking his head, a smile about a mile wide taking over his lips. The tingle is back, full force. Thank God I'm sitting down. I cross my legs, squeezing them together to squelch the ache. I avert my attention back to the sparkly box playing the message.
"Dick's Rockin Eve has nothing on us. We will ring in the New Year in style," Geoffrey continues.
"Dick's ball has nothing on ours," Patrick adds with a giggle.
"Boo, you are so bad. Anyway, dress all sparkly, and be there by the stroke of midnight."
Pink's party anthem grows louder, drowning out what sounds like two people making out. I close the box just as the music fades into nothing. "Well, that isn't something you hear every day," I say out loud.
"Yeah, Geoffrey and Patrick are quite a pair. Definitely broke the mold when those two were made…" Griffin trails off, his hand gripping the back of his neck and he's looking everywhere but at me. Nerves roll off of him in waves.