Evolve Series Box Set

by Hall, S. E.

  Wingman

  ***Laney***

  When I walk into my Algebra class on Thursday morning, he’s the first person I see. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since that night leaving The K. I’d given up texting and calling; he wasn’t going to answer. I heard from Sawyer that he’s living in Morgan Hall, one building down and across the street from me, but that’s all the information I have. Honestly, I don’t know why I let it bother me. This distance between Evan and me started the minute we both left for college, but knowing that even though he’s here now, close enough I could reach out and hug him, and we’re still apart has an extra bite. I know he doesn’t want a hug from me right now, but someday we’ll be on speaking terms… Someday we’ll hug again, right?

  How I wish I hadn’t hurt him. It’d be so nice to talk with him, to tell him about my mom, my life… I miss my friend. Evan will always be the best part of my past and the minute he’s ready, if he’s ever ready, I will welcome him back into my life with open arms. But I love Dane. I’ve spent a lot of time lately thinking how I would feel if the roles with reversed. What would I have done if Evan found someone new at UGA? I’d like to think I’d understand and still be his friend, but maybe I’m wrong. And if I’d have given up my team and went there for him… Well, when I throw that in, I’m right back to knowing his reaction is valid.

  I heave a sigh. I’m beginning to think there’s no win to this situation. Even now, staring across the room at Evan’s downcast eyes and stiff posture, the image of Dane’s heated gaze and sexy smirk fight for headspace. I’m way too far gone to backtrack with guilt now, so I plaster on a confident smile and head over to say hello.

  “Hi, Evan.” I fold into the chair next to him and get my stuff for class out of my bag.

  He doesn’t look up but mumbles, “Laney. How are you?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Oh, just dandy,” he snorts sarcastically.

  I sigh, not knowing what to say. Maybe the more I try the worse I make things? All I want to do is hug this wonderful guy and make it better, but I know it wouldn’t. A hug is much less than he wants, what he thinks he needs, and I can’t give him anything more. My heart’s no longer mine to give anyway; Dane took it, he owns it. I wish Evan and I had just stayed friends now. The few months we spent as a couple flew by, hardly a blip on the radar, but ended with major, maybe irreparable, collateral damage.

  Luckily, the professor walks in and begins as we sit there, worlds apart, the silence screaming. Class seems to take forever, and when it’s over, Evan’s out of his seat and through the door before I even have my bag over my shoulder. No “goodbye,” no “catch ya later.” I try, God, do I try, to hold them in, but I think it actually makes it worse… The silent teardrops start to fall. Evan’s back turned on me just isn’t a view I’m used to and I’m glad I’m not practiced at it; once is more than shattering enough.

  When I need to talk something through, I talk to Dane. When I need to cry, he holds me and tells me he’ll make everything better. When I laugh, it’s usually because of something he said. But now, can I really call him to boohoo that the hurt I caused is coming around to bite me in the ass? Nah—I better not. A small snicker actually leaves me as I hear my dad in my head. “You found your way in this mess; find your way out. It’s called ‘taking your licks,’ Slugger.”

  With Dad’s words in mind, I suck it up, wiping my face with the sleeve of my shirt and snorting my runny nose in the most ladylike way I can manage. Putting the problem with Evan out of my mind is all I can do right now—I can focus on lots of other things, like school and ball and Dane. Evan can wait until we’re both ready to talk face to face, right? Maybe the guys will have some advice for me…or at least take my mind off everything. A girl can hope, right?

  Trudging to lunch is a chore; if I was walking any slower, I’d be headed backwards. Why I even bother with food I’m not sure. My stomach is in knots and I glance around for my boys, almost perking up when their friendly eyes meet mine.

  “Hey,” I manage, slouching into the seat beside them, not capable of fighting Sawyer off his immediate attack of my tray like I usually do. No, today I peacefully concede my whole plate over to him; this should be their first clue as to my mood. Boys.

  Zach’s mesmerized by his phone, as usual, so I kick him under the table. “Ow!” He rubs his leg. “What the hell was that for?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “Tell me something interesting.”

  “Avery says hey,” he says, staring at his phone again.

  “Oh my God, if that’s the best you’ve got, I’m screwed.” I bang my head on the table.

  Sawyer stops inhaling his, make that my, food just long enough to interrupt. “Avery, huh? Kirby get on your nerves too?”

  Okay, this is a conversation that may actually keep me entertained. I could use a diversion.

  “Kirby’s cool. She doesn’t get on my nerves, but I’m definitely more into Avery,” he says, smiling shyly.

  Yes! I lost twenty bucks on Sawyer, but just won the same with Zach’s confirmation, so I break even!

  “Well, no wonder Kirby’s gone if you’re getting into Avery more.”

  “Sawyer!” I smack the back of his head. “Say nothing, Zach, I mean it.” This conversation is going downhill fast but actually gets worse when Sawyer speaks again.

  “Sig party tomorrow night, man, you in? We’re heading over when I get off, ‘bout eleven.”

  “Who’s we?” Zach asks.

  “Me and Evan.” Sawyer darts one eye at me, shifting a bit in his seat.

  “Nah, man, y’all go. I’m gonna hang with Avery. What are you gonna do, Laney?”

  “Um, not go to a party with Sawyer and Evan.” I laugh halfheartedly. “I’ll be doing whatever Dane has planned, I’m sure. And Sawyer?” I stare at him until he reluctantly meets my eyes. “I appreciate you taking Evan under your wing, honestly. Just make sure you and I stay close too, all right?” I give him a smile and wink. I’d really miss Sawyer if we grew apart.

  “You got it, Gidge.” He pulls me into his lap for a big Sawyer hug. “I promise.”

  “We’re all very lucky to have you, big guy.” I kiss the top of his head and bend mine to his ear. “Please tell him I’m sorry I hurt him,” I whisper, “and I hope he finds someone to love him like he deserves.”

  He nods, kissing my cheek. “So how’s my boy? He treating you good?”

  “Dane is wonderful; amazing in fact.” I climb out of his lap, grabbing my bag and hugging Zach goodbye so I can leave on a high note. It’s not like I was eating anyway… “Evan’ll be on the football team with you, Zach. You should hang out and get to know him. He’s a great guy.”

  His green eyes meet mine, a sweet sympathy in them. “Sounds good, Laney. I’ll holler at him.”

  I give him a curt nod that his smile tells me he knows means “thank you.”

  “Walk me to class, Sawyer?”

  He stands and offers me his arm and a smirk. “That’s a real good look on you.”

  “What look?” I look down at my outfit, which is nothing special.

  “Happy.”

  I blush, embarrassed he can see it written all over my face. “Yeah? Feels pretty good too.” I clear my throat after a few minutes of quiet walking. “So…his birthday is coming up and I don’t know what to do. After the birthday he gave me, anything I do will seem lame in comparison. I just want to make him as happy as he makes me.”

  “Wrap your naked self in a bow and blow his candle out.”

  Oh dear God.

  “You should see your face right now.” He bends over laughing, clutching his sides, and I whack him…for the second time today. He’s on a roll. “Okay, seriously…if I know Dane, the best thing to give him is alone time with you. No outside world or bullshit.”

  “How do I pull that off? I live in a dorm and Tate lives with him right now. Alone time is scarce these days.”

  “Hmmm.” Lines crease his forehead with deep though
t, suddenly replaced with a huge, beaming smile and a snap of his fingers. “I got it! Dane has a cabin in Rockhurst, like 40 miles from here. Take him there for the weekend. I’ll get you directions. You could cook for him, strut around naked, whatever.”

  “Really? Ya think? I was thinking maybe a puppy, for when Tate leaves and he’s all alone in that big house again.”

  Sawyer laughs and wraps a ginormous arm around my shoulder. “Gidge, dogs are all well and good, and it’s true that men like them, but he’d rather have a kitty. Your kitty.”

  I can feel how red my face is and I’m not sure why I ever let his words shock me. “Why do we let you speak again?”

  “Cause you love me and I have great ideas, of course! Go with the cabin, I’m tellin’ ya.”

  We’re at the door to my class now so I give him a quick squeeze and peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Sawyer! You’re the best!”

  CHAPTER 5

  Lead the Way

  ***Evan***

  The Sig house is hoppin’. Trash, toilet paper and a few smokers huddled together for warmth decorate the front lawn. A loud bass line thumps from inside and Sawyer’s head is bobbing to the music like a dashboard doll as we make our way up the walk. Neither one of us is a Sig, but I’m thinking nobody tells Sawyer he can’t join the party, so I figure I’m golden.

  All I want to do tonight is forget; I want erase from my mind all that is my new school, my forfeited jersey and my lost girl. Maybe I can just pretend to be somebody else.

  Seeing Laney in Algebra every week is gonna suck, and I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to treat her with cold indifference; it just doesn’t feel right. We were friends for so long before we were anything else, but I’m not sure yet if we can get it back there. Not having her in my life at all is foreign and hurts like hell, but I don’t know if I can pull off anything more than cordial distance right now, and the cordiality is sometimes a stretch.

  Not wanting to do the mental debate thing for the hundredth time, I follow Sawyer into the party, vowing internally not to think of it, her, us, them, again tonight. We hit the keg straight away, then head over to a group of people Sawyer knows. Introductions are made and the only one I register is Josie, a short, really pretty brunette across from me. Yes—I still have eyes.

  I give her a smile and hold her hand in mine longer than a normal “nice to meet you” shake, rubbing my thumb across her wrist on the release. I just want to connect with someone, anyone, even for a moment. I’ve always been half of a whole, always known the girl in the room who was “mine,” and now I’m lost.

  Sawyer picks up on my interest in her and gives me a nod, turning his attention to her friend, guiding her away to dance.

  Very nice. I’ve got one foot in the stirrup, ready to fling my leg over and get back on the horse when a pair of small hands covers my eyes from behind.

  “Guess who?” a sweet voice says in my ear.

  The hands lift and Whitley pops in front of me, totally disregarding Josie, who’s now standing behind her. I have to grin at her boldness.

  “Hey, Whitley, how are you? Do you know Josie?” I awkwardly indicate to the girl throwing daggers into her back.

  Whitley swiftly turns her head, giving Josie a once over, then looks back to me. “Nope,” she says nonchalantly with a shrug. “Who are you here with?”

  “Sawyer. He’s around here somewhere.” I cast my eyes around as though looking for him, not daring to make eye contact with Josie. I don’t think I’ve ever been the ball of nip in a catfight before, and the thought is making me sweat in a nervous, “I’m not breaking this shit up” kind of way. Don’t get me wrong—I love a good catfight as much as any other guy, but I don’t want to be in the middle of one.

  “I don’t care where Sawyer is.” She giggles. “Come on, let’s dance.” She drags me into the middle of the room, furniture moved to provide a makeshift dance floor, before I can decline.

  I look back over my shoulder to try and apologize to Josie, but she’s already rubbing the arm of some blonde guy. That’s all right—I prefer blondes too.

  Whitley’s a great dancer; not too provocative, not too shy. She’s fun and flirty and helps take my mind off everything else. When the room starts feeling like a sauna, I pull her outside to cool off. The deck, like the front yard, is trashed, so surely no one will care that I swipe part of a Poinsettia out of the pot to my right, the only other thing of beauty out here.

  “I got you a flower.” I wink, handing it to her.

  She blushes and giggles at me. “Thank you for the plant.”

  Plant, flower…she likes it.

  “Who are you here with?” I ask.

  “Some of the Larks. I had nothing better to do.” She shrugs and then smiles, smelling her flower. “What’s your excuse?”

  Before I can ramble off some bullshit reason, we’re coerced into a game of Baggo by the group playing in the yard. Now, where I come from, Baggo (or some call it Cornhole) is a time-honored tradition, but it’s doubtful Whitley plays much.

  “Do you know how to play?” I ask her, leading her over to the game by the elbow. The patio lights don’t help much where the game’s set up in the yard and I don’t want her to fall.

  “You throw the bag in the hole, right? How hard can it be?” she teases.

  “Okay, smarty pants, we’ll see,” I say as I size up our competition.

  I already see a problem. Whitley has to stand on the opposite end of the yard as me, and I already feel bad about leaving her alone with either one of our opponents. I don’t know their names; they’re definitely frat guys, so they probably have nicknames of which they’re very proud, but I’ve renamed them. The one closest to us shall be called “Teetering Beer Burps” and his friend down there is now “I Smell as Bad as You Expect.” They aren’t quite as “cool” as the traditional fraternity nicknames, but I’m working on the fly here.

  “We stand on opposite ends since we’re a team,” I explain. “Which end do you want? Or we don’t have to play at all.”

  “I’ll stay here,” she says and pushes on me to go. “I want to be with the brighter light.” She waits until I’ve walked away to add, “So you’ll be able to see how it’s done.”

  Part of me wants to really appreciate her and all the cool things about her. If I’d met her before, I would have instantly liked her—a lot. But it’s not before and she deserves more than I have to give.

  Ain’t that just a kick?

  ***

  Turns out Whitley is all talk and actually sucks at Baggo. We got royally skunked and commiserated in our defeat by getting back on the dance floor. She’s in the middle of perfecting my sprinkler, one hand braced on my shoulder to hold her up in her laughter, when Sawyer slaps me on the shoulder.

  “I’m out, man, can you get a ride home?”

  I give Whitley a helpless look.

  “Yes, I’ll take you home,” she agrees with a smile. “You do have a home now, right?”

  “Yeah,” I chuckle lightly.

  Satisfied, Sawyer and his “date” walk away and I turn back to her. “Can I feed you first?”

  She nods and holds up a finger, walking away as I wait right there. I watch as she navigates her way through the masses, finally spotting what must be her friend and speaks in her ear. The friend’s eyes move over me, a curious smile on her face, before she hands Whitley some keys she pulled out of her pocket.

  “All set, let’s go!” she says once she’s back to me.

  I settle a hand on her back and guide her to the door, helping her into her coat before stepping outside. She pulls her hair out from under the collar, tossing the locks over one shoulder. I’m not even sure why I notice such an insignificant move, but I’m quickly discovering that Whitley has an unmistakable grace about her, an elegance really, that I can’t help but appreciate.

  “So, what’s open this late around here?” I ask as we walk to the car, which I see is hers, not the friend’s, once we get to it.

  �
�Taco Shack or… Taco Shack. Your choice.” She snickers, climbing in as I hold open the door for her.

  I let her pick, and we end up standing at a window cut into the side of a small van in a random parking lot. How in the hell a girl like Whitley even knows of such a mobile eatery, or that the friendly guy inside the window clearly knows her, is beyond me.

  “Ah, Sunshine Girl, what can I get for you?”

  Normally I’d think it rude for him to hit on her with me standing right here, but I can’t even force myself to be bothered by this kid, despite how attractive she must find his wannabe porn moustache.

  “Happy Man!” She beams, giving him a side-five, front and back. “I’ll have my usual, and,” she turns to me, “Evan, what do you want?”

  A Hepatitis C shot.

  “Same as you will be fine. And a Coke.”

  “Make that two of my usual, and two cokes, please.”

  “You better not be digging in that purse for money, woman,” I growl at her, easing her to the side. I take out my wallet to pay “Happy.”

  “Nice girl,” he mumbles while he hands me one of our drinks, “deserves some happiness, you know?”

  Just how well does she know the taco guy?

  “Yeah, man, I got it,” I grumble as nicely as possible.

  Meals on wheels is speedy, and not even five minutes later, we’re digging into our grub, strolling down the street.

  “Will you hand me a napkin?”

  “Sure,” she replies in a sweet voice, looking down into the bag. She gasps loudly, whipping her head at me, eyes wide and wild.

  “What?” I ask her anxiously.

  She flicks her head this way and that, tugging my arm and pulling me behind the nearest building. I kinda hear the “dun dun dun” crime scene music in my head.

  “Whitley, what?”

  “Shhh!” she spits at me. We’re now crouched behind a building, on I have no idea what street. “Are these not the best tacos you’ve ever eaten?”

  Come again? Why this is an undercover question I’m not sure...but yes, damn good tacos.