She pinned her gaze outside, but a faint hint of fresh soap kept luring her eyes to Evan’s bulky silhouette and her thoughts to places she couldn’t let herself go. She should be mad at him, not ready to climb over the console and throw her arms around him.
Staring at the gray headliner, Anna waited for sense to flow from her head to her heart. Truth was, the amount of time that’d passed didn’t matter. Even if the feeling wasn’t mutual, she still loved him. Always would.
She set a hand on his forearm. “It’s good to see you, Evan.” Somewhere lodged inside the web of reactions, that much she knew for sure. Despite how she’d pay for it later.
His gaze strayed from the road to her hand and swept up to her face.
Two seconds. That’s all it took to remind her how much those hazel eyes could make her feel. The realization of what that meant burrowed into her chest.
She blinked toward the windshield. “Watch out!”
Evan slammed on the brakes in front of a stop sign, nearly clipping a pickup soaring past them from the adjacent street. Forehead creased, he mumbled something under his breath and snapped on his blinker.
An electric stillness lingered as he pulled up to her apartment building.
A list of all the usual lines she used when ending an awkward date played through her mind. Except this wasn’t a date, and it wasn’t some random guy. It was Evan. The one person she never imagined ever feeling uncomfortable with.
He turned and held her gaze. “It’s good to see you, too, Anna.”
Spoken in his sincere voice, his words melted over her. Her heart bypassed her head altogether and sprang right for her mouth. “Do you want to come up for a minute?”
An unreadable expression flitted from her to his side mirror.
What was she doing? Of course he didn’t want to come up. He had a girl—
“Got any hot chocolate?” A sideways smile caught the tail end of his question.
She returned it. “Like you have to ask.”
Laughing softly, Evan flipped the unlock button. He met her around the bumper, walked her to the building, and opened the door for her.
In the stairwell, Anna headed toward the second floor with Evan right behind. “It’s a far cry from my dad’s place, but it’s home.”
“Not unless you’ve got a rent check for me.” Her landlord hovered like a vulture in front of her door at the top of the stairs.
Crap. She ducked, looking for an escape route. What was she going to do? Hop over the banister? Resigning, she climbed the last three steps toward the short, middle-aged Asian man. “Mr. Reyes, you know I’m good for the money.”
“I know you’re good for saying you’re good for the money. I need less of this,” he said while making a talking motion with his hand. “And more of this.” He rubbed his fingers together to gesture handling cash.
Like she wasn’t trying. “I’m giving you as much as I can each week. I have an audition on Saturday. As soon as I make the company, I’ll catch up on my back rent. I promise.”
“And what if you don’t get in?”
The possibility of surrendering her apartment and the vision she’d dedicated her life to only worsened the tug-of-war she was already wrestling.
At twenty-four, she wouldn’t get another shot at a dance career. But how could she pursue that dream and forsake the one Mom inspired her to live at the rec center? At the same time, if she didn’t make callbacks, she’d be stuck returning home to the life Dad was pushing on her.
Either way, she’d risk losing herself and forfeiting the art Mom believed in. She couldn’t let that happen. At least here, she’d have a better chance of remaining tied to the community she and Mom both invested their hearts into.
Keeping her head down, Anna fiddled with her keys and strained to raise her voice above a whisper. “Moving out isn’t an option.”
“I assure you it is.” Mr. Reyes brushed past her. “Your tab is due the last day of the month, or you’re out, Miss Madison. Whether you make your audition or not.”
“Why don’t you cut the girl some slack?” From behind her, Evan’s deep voice vibrated throughout the stairwell. “She’s obviously doing the best she can.”
Heat crawled up Anna’s neck. She’d almost forgotten he was there. She shut her eyes, mortified he’d seen her in this predicament. Taking a slow breath, she turned.
Mr. Reyes’s gaze slid over Evan’s looming profile. “Who are you, her bodyguard?”
Evan’s fingers whitened around the railing.
She stepped between them before it got ugly. “Sorry, this is my . . .” What? Her childhood best friend? The only man she’d ever given her heart to? The same one who’d walked out with it their senior year and never looked back?
“An old friend,” Evan answered for her without releasing Mr. Reyes from a palpable stare.
Right. An old friend. Nothing more. He’d already established that back with his girlfriend. She fumbled over the word, even in her thoughts. He’d never seemed to notice the way girls fell all over themselves to get his attention in high school, but it was bound to catch up with him eventually. She’d just hoped it would be with her.
Evan mounted the last two steps and towered above her landlord. Mr. Reyes backed against the wall and slinked down the stairs with a look on his face like he had the sudden urge to use the restroom. She couldn’t blame him. When had Evan become so daunting?
Once he reached a safe distance at the bottom of the foyer, Mr. Reyes called up to her. “I expect a check on the thirtieth. No exceptions.” He skirted out of sight.
Evan’s silent presence magnified the heat still stinging her ears. Anna shoved her key into the deadbolt, wishing she could shrink inside with it. The night couldn’t get any more awkward.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Evan turned her around. “But if you’re in financial trouble, why don’t you go to your dad?”
“And prove him right?” She scoffed. “No way, Evan. You know I can’t do that.” Head down, she clutched her elbows. “Listen, things haven’t been this bad the whole time. I had an unexpected bill come up six months ago. I’ve been working on playing catch up, but—”
“You don’t have to explain. It’s none of my business.”
Because they weren’t close anymore. He used to know things without her ever having to say them.
Exhaling, Anna tugged her gloves off and faced him with as much dignity as she could muster. “Can we forget this happened? I owe you a hot chocolate for bailing me out earlier. I’d really like to go inside, get out of these heels, and visit with . . .” She swallowed and pasted on a smile. “An old friend.”
One who still held her heart, even if his belonged to someone else now.
Chapter Two
Fringe
Inside Anna’s apartment, Evan shut the door behind them. It wasn’t much of a security system, but at least the door had a deadbolt. Her landlord sure wasn’t going to offer her any protection. Evan never doubted she’d move away from the gated community she’d always felt imprisoned by. He just wished she would’ve picked a safer location.
Anna turned on the lights and hung a ballet shoe key ring on a decorative hook beside the door. A gray and white cat scurried from down the hallway. Purring up a storm, it weaved between Anna’s legs.
“Is that . . . ?”
“Yep. My Bailey’s still around.” Anna squatted and curled a finger under the cat’s furry chin. “Some people just aren’t replaceable.”
She had no idea.
“Even kitty people.” She pressed a kiss to Bailey’s head. “Right, lovey?”
The moment Evan moved from behind her, the old tabby froze at the sight of him.
“Aw, you remember Evan, don’t you?”
Bailey tore into the living room before Anna could catch her. Evan had been removed from her life for too long. Of course the cat ran away from him. He was shocked Anna hadn’t done the same.
A low growl rumbled from undern
eath the chair.
“I see she’s still got her split personality.”
“Very funny.” Anna scowled at him. “She’ll warm up to you. Just talk to her for a minute.”
Talk to her? Sighing, he bent to the floor. “Come here, Bailey girl.”
A pair of glow-in-the-dark eyes peered around the chair leg.
“It’s okay.” He patted his leg. “Here, kitty, kitty.” Aw, man, if the guys could see him now—on his knees, calling a cat in baby talk. He’d never live it down.
Bailey wandered over, rubbing her face on each piece of furniture as she went. She sniffed his fingers and pushed her wet nose up under his hand.
“There you go, baby. That’s it.” He stroked her back until she propped her paws on his knee and raised her head toward his. A giant yawn released a wave of fish breath smack into his face. Eyes closed, he fanned the cloud away.
“See. What’d I tell ya? She remembers you.”
And clearly had an opinion about his return.
Anna smiled as Evan rose. “Let me make those hot chocolates. But first things first.” She latched on to his arm with one hand and slipped her shoes off with the other. She fluttered her lashes, looking unfairly adorable.
“How can heels be any worse than those pointe shoes you scrunch your feet into?”
The corner of her mouth sloped to the left. “Hey, everything’s different on the dance floor.”
He laughed. “How could I forget?”
Her brow pinched at his words.
That was a stupid thing to say. Not that it’d matter what he said. She didn’t understand why he’d left during her audition, and he couldn’t possibly tell her.
Fretting with the lacy belt around her waist, Anna stared at the linoleum with enough intensity to drill a hole through it. One he was dying to crawl into right now. Of all the pain his mind and body had undergone throughout his military training, nothing compared to the ache of being near her again.
He cleared his throat and diverted his gaze to the artsy-decorated living room. “The place fits you.”
“That’s about all it fits, but I love it anyway.” She breezed toward the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable. It won’t take me more than a sec to make the drinks.”
It better be one long second if he was going to get himself in check. Getting too comfortable was exactly what he was worried about.
He strolled into the living room and scoped out the windows. Decent blinds. Hopefully she left them down most of the time. He lifted back the edge and took a bird’s-eye view around. Being on the second story helped some with security, but it had its share of disadvantages.
A thump from behind drew him around. The top of a purple armchair bounced against the wall as Bailey circled the cushion. She nestled into the corner and went to town giving herself a bath, only stopping once to glare at him as if he were infringing on her privacy.
Chuckling, Evan ran his hand over a tear in the chair’s top left corner. Anna had kept the same furniture she’d had in her room since high school. In fact, the whole apartment resembled her old bedroom—globe lights strung around the ceiling, a bookshelf overflowing with Pilates videos and movies they grew up on, scented candles mixing with Anna’s distinct fragrance.
How could a place he’d never been in feel so much like home?
An incoming text dinged from his cell. He slid it out of his pocket and grimaced. Another message from Hernandez, looking for a decision Evan wasn’t ready to make yet. He crammed the phone back down. He needed more time.
A trickle of lukewarm heat crawled down his neck from the vent above him. He glanced at a pair of open-fingered gloves on a laptop lying on the couch arm. Was she so short on cash she had to freeze inside her apartment?
“Don’t you think it’s a little cold in here?”
Anna glided in and handed him a bright teal mug that read, I’m a dance teacher. What’s your superpower? Cupping her own mug, she breathed in the steam. “What do you think the hot chocolate’s for?”
He cocked his head at her, and she tipped hers right back.
“Don’t tell me you can’t hack the winters here anymore.”
He didn’t budge.
“Okay, you’ve definitely been away from Chicago for too long. If you tell me you actually put ketchup on your hotdog now, I’m gonna have to stage an intervention.”
“Funny.” He rolled his eyes but couldn’t shake the concern from his face.
Her grin tightened. “You don’t have to worry about us, Evan.” Anna rubbed a fingertip over the cat’s head. “Bailey and I keep each other warm. Don’t we, girl?”
The thought of her living like this burned him more than it probably should. She made her own choices. But seeing her strength and resilience had never overridden his yearning to take care of her.
She gestured to his mug, and he obligingly took a sip. Wow. He’d gone way too long without one of these. “Still incredible.”
A satisfied grin climbed her cheek. She motioned behind her to a bottle of mint extract on the counter. “My secret ingredient.”
“More like your special touch. It’s what makes everything you do amazing.”
Pink cheeked, she stood before him, barefoot in a yellow dress that brought out the hints of blond in her long hair. She rolled onto the balls of her feet. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”
“Sure.” He stepped back as Anna slipped down the hall and into a room. Way to be on point, O’Riley.
Blowing out a hard breath, he moseyed around the living room brimming with picture frames and trinkets. From the bookcase’s top shelf, he lifted a photo of Anna and her mom at the last recital she’d made it to before she died. His chest constricted as he brushed a thumb over the image.
Mrs. Madison had been like a second mom to him—a solid foundation during a time in life when he needed it most. But to Anna, she was the whole world. One he watched shatter without any way to pick up the remaining pieces. His failure in letting them both down never left him.
Anna’s cell rang from a tiny purse on the kitchen counter. “You want me to get that?” he called down the hall.
“No,” she hollered back. “It’s probably my dad checking in on me again. The man’s driving me crazy.”
She strode down the hallway in an off-the-shoulder cotton shirt and a pair of sweats ending at her calves. Only Anna could look even more beautiful in sweats than in a cocktail dress.
At the kitchen counter, she withdrew her phone and glowered. “Like I said.” She traded her phone for her mug and joined him in the living room. “I don’t know why he’s making such a big deal out of this case.”
Please tell me she isn’t that naïve. “He’s prosecuting the biggest black market trafficker in Chicago. I think that constitutes a big deal. It’s Michelli we’re talking about here. The guy who—”
“I know who he is.” Anna dragged her fingers up and down her mug handle. “How do you know about the case?”
Evan darted his gaze to the shelf and the starfish they’d found together on a trip to the Outer Banks. “It’s hard to miss the news, Anna.”
Thankfully, she didn’t press it. She sidled up beside him at the bookcase instead and exchanged her mug for a pair of ceramic frogs painted in funky designs. “A keepsake from one of mine and my mom’s prison breaks.” Nostalgia colored her voice. “Sophomore year, after I had that stress fracture in my foot. She was so intent on cheering me up.”
He feigned offense. “You mean maxing out my lifetime quota of enduring eighties movies didn’t help?”
“I didn’t force you to sit around with me. And don’t act like you didn’t love those movies.”
“You kidding? Molly Ringwald haunted my dreams for a solid month after that.”
She shoved him. “Whatever. You loved it. And this was different. You know how my mom was. The slightest thing turned your world gray, and she went off putting together some crazy project to bring color back into it.”
He smiled. Tha
t he remembered.
“It’s what I loved about her, though. It didn’t matter how dark Dad’s cases were. Mom never failed to believe the beauty of art could change anything. Like it was proof goodness would always win.”
Swallowing, Evan tried to look away, but the pull in her voice wouldn’t release him.
“She made it so easy to believe. Especially that night.” Her gaze wandered to the frogs and back in time. “We snuck past Dad’s security to go to that little art studio on Twenty-Second Street. Spent hours by ourselves. Not as the DA’s wife and daughter, just as us. Two artists ready to change the world.” Her soft laugh faded into a heartbreaking smile. “No borders. No expectations. No cases . . . Man, I miss her.”
A series of blinks brought her focus back to him and a look of embarrassment across her face. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from.” She escaped to the couch.
With her mug resting over a throw pillow, she bent her foot back and forth with her hand the way she did when lost in thought.
Evan sat in the chair opposite her. Bailey hopped down, shot him a scathing glare, and made her way to Anna’s side instead. He couldn’t blame her. Despite every shred of logic pounding through his head, he wanted to be beside her, too.
He straightened the chain to his dog tags. “Anna, your dad’s—”
“The District Attorney of Chicago. And with that comes legitimate dangers,” she said in a proper tone as though reciting an edict she abhorred. The depth in her earnest eyes drilled straight through every piece of armor he had. “I left home for a reason, Evan. Risks or not, I need to live my own life.”
He scooted to the edge of the seat. “You can’t live that life if it’s taken from you.”
“Exactly.”
His forehead tightened. “That’s not what I meant.”
She lowered her gaze and sipped her hot chocolate.
Why did she have to be so stubborn? “Bells . . .”
She traced her fingertips over the white triangular patch of fur beneath Bailey’s neck and lifted those soft green eyes toward him. “Can we talk about something else? If I only have a few minutes with you, I’d rather hear about your life.”
Arms of Promise Page 2