by Aly Martinez
But it was the way Evan scooted to the edge of the seat—his posture equally as threatening—that really caught my attention.
I’d never been so turned on as I was when he barked, “Calm the fuck down,” at Carter.
“I’m thirty-eight,” he seethed at me, not sparing Evan a glance. “And she was completely legal, so if you even think about calling me a pedophile again, I will be job-hunting.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know, the dramatics are usually my specialty.”
His jaw ticked as he continued to glare, but his shoulders relaxed a fraction.
Tugging on Evan’s sleeve, I urged him to slide back into his seat and give up the angry-Rottweiler routine.
He stared daggers at Carter as he obliged.
“Perhaps we should start over?” I arched an eyebrow at Carter, his body sagging as he nodded in agreement. “Okay. First off, while I’m not thrilled about you dipping into the family panty drawer, I’m not exactly mad, either. I was just…shocked. You should have told me.”
“Agreed,” he said immediately. “You know Robin though. She’s stubborn as hell and was adamant that you not find out. And then it kinda fizzled out, so I let it go.”
“And it’s fizzling again?”
He shrugged noncommittally. “Apparently.”
“You do remember I caught her using again…like, a week ago. This probably isn’t the right time to rekindle anything.”
He groaned and shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Yeah. I know. I really thought she was done with that crap. Shit, Henry. This is not something I planned. We have a whole history together that would take me a century to explain, and even then, I’m not sure I’d have all the pieces to the Robin Clark puzzle. I can’t make her settle down, but I can sure as hell protect her. Even if it kills me. Christ.” He raked a hand through his short, black hair. “That woman is doing my head in.”
Poor guy looked so defeated. I knew that feeling all too well when it came to Robin. She was beautiful, smart, and so fucking witty. It was easy to see how he’d developed feelings for her. But, while she was easy to love, she was virtually impossible to hold on to.
But I guessed the same could be said about me. I wasn’t into drugs. However, I had enough unresolved issues to fill a…
“Holiday Stay?” I questioned with more than a little disgust as the limo came to a stop at the front doors. “Nope. Keep driving to the Plaza!” I shouted at the driver.
“Uh…this is where I’m staying,” Evan said, shoving the door open.
I dove over him and pulled it shut. “No, this is where the bed bugs, semen-stained comforters, and athlete’s-foot-infested bathtubs are staying. Your new room is the presidential suite at the Plaza.”
“My car is here!”
“And we’ll get it disinfected in the morning,” I replied curtly.
“Henry, this place is—”
“Shit,” Carter filled in. “The security is unacceptable. I’d have to find two guys to sit outside all night, and I really don’t have time for that. He can’t stay here.”
My mouth split in triumph, but I masked it with an exaggerated pout before turning back to Evan. “Bummer. I would have totally stayed here if it were up to me.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he grumbled, but his eyes danced with humor. “Can I at least grab my shit and check out, your highness?”
“Mmm,” I purred, rubbing my shoulder with his. “I approve of the new pet name. But sorry. Your request is denied.” I grinned then yelled to the driver, “Sally forth, noble steed.”
“Wow,” Evan deadpanned as we pulled away.
“Trust me. He gets worse,” Carter added.
I jutted my chin at Carter then said to Evan, “So does he. You’re lucky you don’t have any teenage sisters.”
Evan chuckled, and surprisingly, so did Carter, all of the tension evaporating for the rest of the ride.
When we pulled up in front of the Plaza, Carter started for the door, but I stopped him.
“Look, you’re both adults. What the two of you do behind closed doors isn’t up to me. But don’t break her heart. She’s had a shit life and isn’t exactly doing the best job at managing the present. Please don’t add any more stress to that equation.” I extended my hand to him.
“I’ll keep her safe,” he replied, gripping my palm for a quick shake.
It wasn’t a promise. It was a vow.
As much as I wanted to be mad about them sneaking around behind my back for the last three years, I couldn’t find it in me. Knowing I was no longer solely responsible for protecting Robin lifted an enormous weight from my shoulders.
And, as Evan and I were ushered up to our suite, his arm possessively locked around my hips as I signed autographs and smiled for selfies in the lobby, I prayed that, by the end of the evening, the weight of my insecurities would be gone as well.
I wasn’t holding my breath though.
“FINE. IT’S NICER than the Holiday Stay,” Evan relented, sprawling out on the down comforter I’d specially requested. “But I’m betting it’s not less than two hundred bucks a night.”
“No.” I bent over the bed and kissed his upturned lips. “But I’m loaded, so get used to it.”
“Yeah, I kinda knew that, but after seeing the price tag on the suit Macy dropped off for me, I’m thinking I underestimated you.”
I chuckled and flipped through the pages of the room service menu. “I’ll have her put it on my account.”
“I want to argue that I’m a man and don’t need you buying me suits, but you sign my paychecks. You’re paying for pretty much everything I own at this point.”
I sat down on the bed next to him and swept the dark-brown hair off his forehead. “I thought you quit.”
He rolled toward me and looped an arm around my hips. Then he dragged me to the bed. His heavy chest settled on top of mine, and his blue eyes smiled down. “Consider this me rescinding my resignation.” He sealed his decree with his mouth, my lips instantly parting to take it deeper, but it wasn’t enough.
For either of us.
He swung a leg over to straddle me as our tongues glided together. He’d discarded his jacket and his tie when we’d gotten back to the room, but he was still wearing the crisp, white shirt that clung to the hard lines of his chest and his back, taunting me. Not to mention the black pants that hugged his ass so perfectly I almost felt guilty about removing them.
Almost.
But not really.
My hands went for his belt.
“Wait,” he mumbled, but I swallowed it and pretended that it hadn’t happened. “Henry, wait.”
“You’re mispronouncing ‘fuck me.’” I continued trying to undo his belt with one hand while shifting my other down to his erection, which was straining in the front of his pants.
He hissed his approval and momentarily gave up the struggle—not that there was much of one.
“I want you so fucking bad.” I lifted my hips so our still-covered cocks ground together, and when he cursed, dropping his face to my neck, I went for the kill. “Evan.”
Only it wasn’t the kill I wanted.
I’d never seen a man fly away faster. He didn’t stop backing up until his ass was against the wall on the opposite side of the room.
While his chest heaved, his eyes held a feral intensity laced with a large dose of fear. “We need to talk.”
And, if that was the effect I had on him just by saying his name, I was starting to agree with him.
I knew the panic.
And I knew I loathed it covering his face.
“Okay. Let’s talk,” I said, sitting up and fisting the edge of the bed to keep from reaching for him.
Placing his hands on his hips, he sucked in a deep breath, his chest swelling as he held it.
“Evan…” I was careful not to put any emphasis on it so as not to risk setting him off again.
He watched me with notable unease, but as the muscles in his neck flexed and he rolled his sh
oulders back, staggering confidence appeared, banishing the anxiety. “Why did you leave me last week?”
I held his stare, “You know why. You talked to Levee.”
“I did. And she told me about your little King Kong fetish and how you don’t let anyone close. And she told me that it was a big fucking deal that you dropped your guard and opened up to me about your past. I could go on, but you know what? I’m not dating Levee. So I’d really like to hear this from you.”
I diverted my eyes to the floor and scoffed. “What else do you want me to say? I’m fucked up. End of story.”
“Fine. End of story. Get out.”
My head snapped up and I found an inferno blazing in his eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re still playing games, so I said get out.” Cool, calm, casual… Definitive.
“How the fuck am I playing games?”
His jaw hardened as he tipped his head. “Holy shit. You don’t see it.”
I searched the room as if someone would magically appear and fill me in on what the hell he was talking about. His angry glower burned into me as I avoided his gaze.
“Clearly, I don’t,” I replied with a heavy sarcasm.
“Get out!” he erupted, swinging an arm to the door.
And, because sarcasm had worked so well the first time, my dumb ass decided to give it another go. “Uh…this is my room.”
He barked a laugh, but when I slowly lifted my head, I noticed that it held negative amounts of humor.
“You are absolutely right.” He stomped to the chair in the corner, grabbed his coat, and draped it over his arm before heading to the door.
Dread filled my stomach, and my mind screamed at me to stop him. I knew what was on the other side of that door—I’d been living it for the last week. And the panic that built at that reality was the only thing that got my mouth moving.
“I don’t know what you want me to say!” I pushed from the bed and folded my hands in prayer. “Tell me what you need to hear and I’ll say it every day for the rest of my life. I’m not playing games. I just don’t know what you need to hear.”
He stopped, but he didn’t give me his eyes. The muscles on his jaw jumped and his bicep flexed. Meanwhile, I held my breath for a miracle.
“Why did you leave?” he gritted out.
“Because I suck at letting people in.”
His gaze remained on the door as he imperceptivity shook his head. “Last chance.”
My heart lurched, and I stumbled several steps toward him. “This isn’t a game to me, Evan. I swear.”
His hollow eyes swung to mine, and I instantly wished they hadn’t, because if I had thought the panic on his face was bad, the anguish was tenfold worse.
“Why. Did. You. Leave?”
Finally, when I feared my heart would explode, my mouth opened and the truth came tumbling out. “Because I was terrified of this moment, right here.”
His shoulders fell as a loud exhale raced from his mouth, and if I could believe my eyes, he smiled. “What moment, Henry?”
I blinked. Then the strangest thing happened: I actually answered him…with another truth.
“This one…where you leave. And I’ll be left gutted because there will be no one to blame but myself. I won’t be able to delude myself that you’re walking away because you don’t like men. I’ll have to accept that you’re leaving because, just like everyone else in my life…you don’t want me.” I threw my hand up to cover my mouth, desperate to stop my secrets from escaping, but given the way Evan’s eyes became tender, they were already leaking from my every pore.
“Come here, Henry.”
I shook my head and rolled my bottom lip between my fingers. “Whether it’s now or years from now, you’ll leave.”
He dropped his jacket to the ground and curled his finger in the air. “Come. Here. Henry.”
“I have millions of fans. But it’s the people who get to know me who leave. It always happens. Trust me.”
“Not always.”
“Always!” I hissed.
“Henry,” he snapped, his eyes crinkling at the corners as they narrowed. “Come. Here.”
“Maybe you should go.”
He was terrible at following orders, because his long legs strode forward, not stopping until our bodies collided and I was in his arms.
His lips met my ear, and I swayed against him, desperately needing his comfort and reassurance more than ever.
Evan took a different approach.
“I dated a man for two years,” he whispered, and I went rock solid.
’Kay. Not exactly the reassurance I was expecting.
“Umm…”
“Shh… Listen.” He walked us backwards until the bed hit the back of my knees. Then he shifted me off-balance until I was flat, his weight heavy on top of me. “We met the first day at the Academy. I figured out in high school that I was attracted to men as well as women, but the moment I saw Shannon, I was done for. I wanted him more than any woman I’d ever been with. But what I never expected was for him to be interested in me too.”
I tried to wiggle up the bed and out of his grasp. After my semi breakdown and the confessions I’d never told anyone, his ex-boyfriend was the very last thing I wanted to be discussing.
“I don’t want to hear this.”
He inched up the bed with me, refusing to release me. “And I don’t want to be telling it. But I need you to listen.”
Just as I was about to object again, he lifted his fingers and pinched my lips shut.
I rolled my eyes then bulged them in a fine-fucking-tell-me way.
“He was a year older than I was, which already made our relationship forbidden. But, also, ‘Don’t Ask Don’t Tell’ was in effect for the military back then. We did some serious sneaking around to keep our relationship a secret from not just our instructors and cadre, but also our friends. Until one day at the end of my second year, we got caught making out in the back of a tiny restaurant thirty miles from post. It was a classmate of mine, Dave Bass, and he gave us two options. Either we could go to our chain of command and admit that we were gay—thus getting us kicked out—or he’d do it for us.”
“Nosy asshole,” I mumbled around his fingers.
He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Rules are rules. And we had an honor code. He could’ve been kicked out for not reporting it.”
I slapped his hand away from my mouth. “Christ, what the hell kind of bigots run this place?”
“They’re good men. Slightly misguided, but it was a decade ago and the country was just starting to catch up on homosexual equality.”
“That’s no excuse. You shouldn’t be punished for being with a man. It’s not like you get to choose who you’re attracted to.”
Pursing his lips, he fought back a smile all while leveling me with a pointed glare.
I sighed, pressing my head into the bed and staring blankly at the ceiling. “Shit. I’m such a fucking hypocrite.”
His lips brushed mine. “A little. But we’ll figure it out.”
I folded my hands around him to return his embrace, hoping that we would do just that.
Shifting to the side, he propped himself up on an elbow, his head cradled in his hand, his other resting on my hip.
I mirrored his position. “So’d you get the boot?”
“Shannon and I thought about it for two days. We were in love.”
I winced and shifted my attention down between us, staring at nothing in particular in order to avoid his gaze. That was definitely not fun to hear. But he gave me a squeeze and then slid his hand up my side until he reached my chin, where he tipped my head, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“It was a long time ago. And, if you want the truth, over the last few weeks with you, I’ve started to feel like love isn’t even the right word for it.”
Oh yeah. He said that. To me.
I bit my lip, suddenly very interested in the rest of the story. Mainly because I wanted
it to hurry up and end so he could get back to what he’d learned over the last few weeks with me.
Evan continued. “We’d talked about a future together and made plans for after we graduated. Separation from the Academy was definitely going to change things, but we had each other. I really wasn’t all that upset about it. I was a dumb kid with white picket fences and dreams of not having to hide clouding my vision.” He grinned, but it never met his eyes. “You have to understand something about me. I’ve never considered myself gay.”
My lips thinned as I arched an eyebrow. “Well, this must be awkward as hell for you, then.”
He ignored my joke. “I like men. I like women. But, at the end of the day, I am not defined by my sexuality. I just want to find someone who makes me happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t care if you’re a man or a woman. I have no preference. When I’m with someone, it’s because of the person they are, not the genitalia they were born with.”
And it was official. I was a dick. But not the good kind. I was the huge, hot-pink dildo of men. I found my dates based on their sexuality alone. The person they were didn’t even factor in my relationships—if you could call them that. All they needed was a cock and a penchant for woman and they were automatically my type.
However, as I realized what a terrible person I was and saw the figurative golden halo forming over Evan’s head, part of me still celebrated.
He was with me.
Which meant, if what he was telling me was true, he was with me…for me.
It was a simple concept that should have been assumed, but for a man like me, it was overwhelming, and my throat began to close in response.
His strong hands cupped my jaw while his thumb lazily stroked my cheek. “I see you’re starting to understand.”
Not trusting my voice, I nodded in response.
“Good. Now, let me finish story time so I can make you understand everything a hell of a lot better.”