Everything Has Changed

by Mia Kayla

  I just wasn’t great at making friends.

  “Oh, I can argue all right,” I quipped, smiling. “Plus, it’s not like I’m going into criminal law. I’m looking more into family law.”

  He nodded, his hands still folded on the table. He hadn’t dived into his food yet. I didn’t know if he was being a gentleman and waiting for me to eat first. He seemed so focused on me, interested in our conversation. A familiar blush rose to the apples of my cheeks. I glanced at his nachos just hanging out on his plate. Boy, did I want a nacho.

  “Because of your grandfather?” he asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

  I tore my gaze from his nachos and peered up at him. His assumption surprised me.

  “No, because I want to. I’ve always found law fascinating. My dream would be to work for an adoption agency one day.”

  From the more privileged upper class society we’d been brought up in, it wasn’t uncommon to take over the family business or go to an Ivy League school simply because that was the route we were supposed to take. Expectations ran high from the elite parents on the North Shore.

  Although Grandpa had tried to force my mother into taking over the family firm—that had eventually been sold—my mother had never placed that pressure on me. I’d never met my grandfather, but I always wondered if there were some traits that he’d passed down to me that contributed to my drive to study law.

  Evan paused to assess me. “Good for you.”

  His eyes appraised me as if something I’d said struck a nerve.

  “I went pro, so I wouldn’t have to run the family chain,” he admitted. He finally reached for a nacho and popped it into his mouth. “You should have seen my dad’s face when I told him I was going to the University of Texas instead of Yale. He looked like he’d swallowed something spoiled.”

  He laughed without humor and chomped down on another nacho. He seemed to be playing it off as though he were unaffected by his father’s opinion because he kept munching on chips. But his stiff shoulders and the look of sadness in his eyes made me think otherwise.

  His comment surprised me. Evan had always seemed so straight-laced, a yes-Dad type of boy.

  I didn’t want to pry, but he’d piqued my curiosity.

  “He didn’t want you to go pro?”

  “No, not one bit,” he said dryly, cocking his head to the side. “What did he say again? Oh, yeah. ‘You wanna throw a ball around for a living? That’s not a living. That’s a disgrace.’” He sounded so cynical while mocking his father.

  I reeled back. “I’m sorry,” I found myself saying automatically. What else could I say in this situation?

  “Whatever.” He waved it off. “I’m just glad to be out from under his thumb.” He picked at the label on his beer bottle, suddenly deep in thought.

  I could feel the mood shift in the air, and I was sure the conversation about his father had caused it.

  I stared into Evan’s green eyes, and for the first time, I noticed insecurity and rebellion, not the cocky superiority I’d thought he’d had in high school. I was starting to wonder if I’d been dead wrong about Evan. Maybe there was something good to him that I hadn’t quite seen yet.

  I inched my elbows on the table in his direction. “Does he not know what kind of money you bring in?” I tried to make light of the situation to bring him out of his sullen mood.

  I wondered what it would be like to feel like you weren’t enough—or more importantly, for your parents to make you feel like you were inadequate. I wouldn’t know because my parents had never made me feel that way.

  “Any dad would be proud to watch his son on TV, doing what he loves and doing it well.” I ducked to get in his line of sight and smiled, trying to break him out of his mood.

  He regarded me for a second and surprised me by putting a hand on top of mine. Warmth spread up my arm. It wasn’t the electric jolt of heat that Jimmy could give me, but it was warmth nevertheless.

  “Thanks,” he said softly, locking eyes with me.

  My phone vibrated in my purse, causing me to jump and break our contact. I reached in and pulled out my phone. When I saw Jimmy’s name on the screen, my pulse quickened. I stared at the phone, debating whether I should answer it. Jimmy would have a fit if he knew I was out with Evan right now.

  “You gonna get that?” Evan asked, definitely noticing the picture of Jimmy and me on the screen.

  “Uh…” I hesitated. “I’m just going to let it go to voice mail.”

  Evan shook his head in amusement. “You’re too funny.”

  “He doesn’t like you very much,” I admitted matter-of-factly.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “As long as you like me, I don’t really care what Jimmy thinks.”

  The tenderness in his eyes suddenly made me shy.

  I glanced over at the table next to us as I felt warmth spread to the tips of my ears. When my phone vibrated, indicating a new voice mail, I lifted the glass of water to my lips.

  Evan lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not going to tell him the truth about going out with me, are you?” He sounded certain that I wouldn’t.

  “Of course I am,” I countered. “I tell Jimmy everything.” At least that was true.

  I did tell Jimmy everything, and I wasn’t about to keep secrets just because I knew he’d be pissed off. I wished he held the same values when it came to our friendship.

  The call of the nachos had finally gotten to me, and I caved, reaching for one and popping it into my mouth.

  “Why does he hate you so much anyway?”

  “Why?” He tilted his head as if he were pondering my question. “Because I was a prick before.” He nodded as his eyes dropped to the beer bottle on the table. “Jimmy was unstoppable back in high school, and maybe I was a little jealous.” He reached for his beer and took a sip. “The only thing that got to him, really got to him, was messing with his mom…or you.”

  I widened my eyes. “You were a prick.” The truth fell out naturally.

  Evan had acted like a total turd in elementary school and a taller, older turd in high school.

  He just laughed at my honesty. “Yeah, I’m not that guy anymore though. I grew up—sorta.” He winked before tipping his beer back again.

  I noted the sincerity in his tone. I couldn’t deny that people could change, and high school seemed like eons ago.

  “Well”—I smiled genuinely—“that’s nice to know.”

  Despite the slow start, dinner wasn’t as horrible as I had expected. Evan was pleasant to talk to and fun to be around. We’d caught up on what had happened during our college years and talked about his progression into professional football.

  Before I knew it, the restaurant had cleared out, and it was time to go home.

  Though I’d offered, Evan picked up the check. Then, he walked me out to my car. We stood there for a few awkward seconds while I fiddled with my keys, staring at the wad of gum on the concrete.

  I unlocked the door, and stepped into the car. “Thanks, Evan. I had a great night,” I said, angling my head down. I didn’t want to see the look of expectation in his eyes if he anticipated a kiss good night.

  “Bliss?” He positioned his hand on the frame of the door.

  The light from the lamppost highlighted the streaks of blond against his dark brown hair. When he ducked his head, coming closer, I froze.

  “Let’s do this again.”

  “Okay,” I nervously blurted out.

  If he kissed me, I wouldn’t know how to react.

  He seemed like he was going to back away, but he just leaned in closer. “Hop over to the other side. Let me drive.”

  “Uh…” Panic rose within me.

  “Come on, Bliss,” he pressed, excitement in his eyes. “I’m driving us to get dessert.”

  I hesitated. “Evan, it’s late. I have class and—”

  He interrupted my excuses. “I’m a big boy now, Bliss. I don’t do games. I don’t want this night to end yet. Let me take you for des
sert.” The corner of his mouth lifted as he waited for my reply.

  “Evan,” I protested weakly.

  He flashed a smile, and I just shook my head.

  “It’s just dessert.” He chuckled. “I’m not asking you to marry me—at least, not yet.” He laughed at the look of shock on my face, and then he held his hands up. “I’m kidding.”

  I bit my cheek and debated. Did I want to drag this out? There was no future in it. I couldn’t picture myself with Evan at all.

  He went on excitedly, either not sensing or ignoring my hesitation, “I know this place that has the best brownie sundae. It’s called the Mile High Sundae Pie.”

  Sundae pie?

  Just the name caused saliva to bud on my tongue. Giving up my discomfort, I hopped over to the passenger side. He scooted in and repositioned the seat, so he’d have more legroom. After adjusting the mirrors, he pulled the gear into drive and sped away.

  “What about your car?” I asked.

  “We’ll grab it later,” he replied with a wink.

  A moment later, questions plagued me, and I hoped he didn’t expect to have something else for dessert, like Bliss à la mode at his place. I reached in my purse and squeezed my phone. Jimmy’s words warning me about Evan rang in my head. Maybe Evan had certain expectations after first dates that I couldn’t fulfill, things I didn’t want to fulfill.

  Anxiety started to creep up the back of my neck as my restless knees bounced. I could no longer hear what Evan was saying.

  I memorized names of streets as he turned. It seemed as if he’d been driving forever. I watched the minutes tick by, and even though my sane mind told me again and again that I’d gone to school with this boy, my panic-ridden mind reiterated over and over that I really did not know him.

  Thoughts of him taking me into a dark alley where he could have his way with me seeped into my brain. My imagination ran wild. Maybe that was because I wasn’t even in control of my own car. Finally, when I thought I’d just open the car door, jump out, and roll away just like in the movies, we stopped in front of this blue awning that simply read, Molly’s.

  When Evan came to open my door, I gave him an awkward small smile. He offered his arm, and I took it.

  “Did you think I was taking you to some dark alley or something?” he teased.

  I widened my eyes and let out a nervous laugh. “Of course not.” I shook my head, feeling stupid that I had made up this whole serial rapist scenario with Evan when all he wanted was to just get dessert.

  When we stepped in, a waft of chocolate filled the air, and I almost sighed out loud. This place looked like a cafe on the outside, but as I drifted farther in, I realized it was larger than the exterior had led me to believe. There were plush blue velvet couches everywhere with rectangular glass tables in the center.

  Evan and I followed a cute petite woman to a table in the back.

  I scooted into the comfortable couch, feeling the softness of the fabric underneath my fingertips.

  “Ready for dessert?” he asked excitedly, thumbing the menu.

  The sweet scent of chocolate filled my nose, and I nodded.

  The waitress took our order—one Mile High Sundae Pie and a couple of waters.

  When the waitress turned to walk away, Evan searched my face before he spoke, “Bliss, why doesn’t a pretty girl like you have a boyfriend yet?”

  I pulled the linen napkin from the table onto my lap and shied away. I wasn’t about to tell him that I was hopelessly in love with my best friend. That would be a quick conversation killer.

  “Too busy,” I mumbled, fiddling with the napkin on my lap.

  He leaned into me, causing me to hold my breath. I wasn’t ready for the third-degree interrogation.

  “Have you ever had a serious boyfriend?”

  I swallowed, trying to think my way out of this. I’d never had to answer these types of questions before. And I hadn’t had to explain myself to Jimmy. He just got me.

  I fidgeted in my seat, not wanting to go into my past. I had no desire to delve into my unmanaged grief for my father or discuss the complete unraveling of my mother or talk about how much I’d sacrificed for her these past few years.

  Evan answered before I even had a chance to speak, “I can’t believe someone hasn’t snatched you up already.”

  My cheeks warmed, and I shied away, glancing at the salt and pepper shakers on the table, as I thought about the barriers that had kept me from dating.

  After a beat, my phone rang in my purse. It was Jimmy again. What the heck does he want?

  Evan smiled, raising his eyebrows, as if he were certain he knew whom it was and that I wouldn’t answer.

  I debated on picking up the phone. Jimmy’s voice was what I wanted to hear. I needed it. His voice always managed to calm me whenever my past came to the surface.

  I picked up on the third ring.

  “Hey,” Jimmy said, his voice normal. He sounded distracted. “Did I leave my electric razor in your bathroom?”

  “What?” His question threw me off. That was why he was calling me? Seriously?

  “My electric razor,” he repeated.

  “I haven’t seen it.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “I don’t know where I put that damn thing.”

  An amused look crossed Evan’s face. Maybe it was at the distorted look I was giving off. I threw him a warm smile and relaxed my face.

  “Where are you anyway?” Jimmy asked, sounding a little suspicious. “I called you at home.”

  That distorted look was back. I blinked rapidly and rubbed my sweaty palm down my jeans. “Out to dinner.” A nervous laugh escaped my lips.

  “With Kelly?”

  “No.” I focused on the napkin on my lap, instantly wishing I had never picked up his call. Stupid move. This was not going to end well.

  “With your mom?” There was an edge to his voice that I recognized.

  Beads of sweat formed behind my neck. “Hey, let me call you later, okay?”

  “Bliss…” His voice was hard.

  I bit my lip. He only ever used my real name when he was upset.

  “Who are you with?”

  I didn’t know why I was afraid to tell him.

  Actually, I knew exactly why. He’d go loco-style crazy if he knew I was out with Evan, and I didn’t feel like dealing with it tonight.

  I wanted to lie and get him off my back, but Miss Redhead resurfaced in my brain, and any hesitation I had evaporated.

  I was a grown woman. Jimmy could date whomever he wanted, and so could I. Yes, he was just looking out for me, but still.

  I sat up straighter on the couch, holding my chin higher. I let out a low breath before I spoke firmly, “I’m actually out with Evan—on a date. He was in the area. Hey, I’ll call you later, okay?”

  The silence on the other end was deafening. All I could hear was my own heartbeat in my ears. I visualized Jimmy, the muscles of his jaw working and the tenseness in his eyes.

  “Gotta go, Jimmy,” I said quickly.

  “Boo, don’t you dare drop the call on me. Give the phone to Evan—now.” It was an order, not a request.

  I didn’t take orders when people spoke to me in a condescending way.

  “No, Jimmy,” I said, standing my ground. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” I ended the call as my heart stammered in my chest.

  This was going to end in a full-on fight. But I hadn’t done anything wrong, so if he wanted to duke it out, then I would welcome him to bring it.

  Evan let out a carefree laugh. “I’ve never heard anyone talk to Jim Brason like that. I think you’ve jumped the bar of hotness to a fifteen. Brason has met his match.”

  I shook my head as my heart rate descended to a normal pace. “We’re just that comfortable around each other. We can fight like brother and sister.” Sadly, I wished it were more like boyfriend and girlfriend.

  I noticed a slight tremor in my hands as I placed the phone back into my purse, and I tucked a strand of hair behind
my ear. “Sorry about that.”

  I tried to shove away thoughts of Jimmy. He was most likely tearing his apartment apart right now.

  “He’s pretty protective of you, huh?”

  “That’s a bit of an understatement,” I said.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to file a restraining order against him?”

  I laughed. “He’s always been that way. And when my father died…” I bit back the quiver in my voice, my mood shifting. I wondered if my voice would be stronger one day when I used father and death in the same sentence. “Well, when my father died, Jimmy stepped it up a notch, and he started watching me like a freaking hawk.”

  Evan looked like he was going to say something, but he shook his head and thought better of it. “I’m tired of talking about Jim. Are you prepared for the best ice cream sundae in Chicago?” he asked, a boyish twinkle in his eyes.

  Maybe he could sense my mood because he backed away and nodded his head to the waitress carrying our Mile High Sundae Pie. I was ready for the distraction, from our uncomfortable conversation. He peered up and gave me a small smirk, revealing the most charming smile.

  “I’m ready.” I grinned, my mouth watering from anticipation.

  The next morning, my phone rang at eight a.m. on the dot. It was Jimmy, not that I had doubted.

  He’d called incessantly last night, and because I hadn’t been in the mood to get yelled at, I’d sent his calls to voice mail.

  I rubbed my eyes with the backs of my palms, preparing myself to get reamed. I was also ready to fire back if I needed to. Jimmy didn’t rule my life.

  I gritted my teeth and picked up on the third ring.

  “Hey, Boo.” His voice was low.

  There was a sadness in his tone that I hadn’t expected, and it tugged at my heart.

  “Hi,” I replied softly, forgetting any built-up anger.

  A few seconds passed in an uncomfortable silence until he sighed heavily. “I know you think I’m being crazy, and maybe I am. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”