by Sara Hess
When the new term started and our lunches had ended it had taken months to stop myself from looking for him everywhere, but I accepted that cold turkey was best for me. His effect on me had been too potent.
Now I was back in his vicinity again and it was worse. Everything I’d been feeling for him then had come back with a vengeance, powered by ten. I was feeling extremely wrung out from fighting it.
My inner brooding was interrupted when Evan pulled into the parking lot of a Coney Island with a skate park next to it where dozens of teens were skateboarding and rollerblading. Instead of ordering from the drive-thru Evan parked and then climbed from the car to head toward one of the restaurants many outside picnic tables.
Letting out a sigh of resignation, that had him smirking, I plopped down on the bench across from him. Seconds later a waitress walked over. Evan ordered a burger with fries, and I asked for a grilled chicken sandwich minus the bread and a side of coleslaw.
After she left my gaze was drawn to the kids skating and performing tricks in the park. It brought back memories of my neighborhood. Our park hadn’t been as nice as this one, but it was one of the better memories I carried with me now that I was out of there…and never going back.
“Is that a smile?” Evan asked. “Why are you smiling?”
I shrugged. I didn’t like talking about my life, even the good parts. “It’s nothing…it just looks like they’re having fun.”
He glanced briefly over at the park with dented brows like he wasn’t sure he believed me. “The second part I believe, but that first part didn’t ring completely true.”
“Doesn’t matter if it does or doesn’t.” I grouched, trying to keep what little wall was left between us.
He frowned harder. “So you’re fine that our only dialogue consists of sexual and comical repartee. We can’t talk about our lives?”
“Why mess with what’s working?” I quipped with a small sneer.
His amber eyes narrowed and he leaned over the picnic table closer to me. “My dad, Timothy Michaels, was a race car driver and died in a crash before I was born. My mom was an eighteen year old model. For eight years she was a single mom scarcely scraping by on the jobs she was getting. Then she met Kyle Bradley and I got a new step-dad and three stepbrothers. He owns a high-end clothing franchise and our standard of living changed drastically. My real dad’s parents are sitting comfortably but it’s nowhere near my stepfather’s level.”
I stared at Evan as he recounted his brief life story not wanting to be interested, but engrossed nonetheless.
A small sardonic grin tugged at his mouth. “I was a bit of a dorky kid and loved to read. Not just fictional books, but anything that was edifying. My stepfather thought I was spending too much time with my nose in a book so he signed me up for various sports camps.”
I couldn’t stop my curiosity from spilling out. “You don’t sound like you’re fond of your stepdad.”
The small grin twisted further and a hard glint entered his eyes. “He’s an ass and only married my mom to acquire a trophy wife, but one good thing he did do for me was push me into sports because I was getting a little chunky and spent too much time alone. All the activity had me losing weight and I made a lot of new friends. I also realized I loved experiencing knew things; performing the activities I’d been reading about.”
Thinking about him as a chunky, nerdy kid almost made him appear non-threatening, but he was far from that. At over six foot, packed with muscle, and sinfully handsome he was a female’s wet-dream…and nightmare. It didn’t matter if a guy was handsome or dorky, they were all liars and out for one thing.
I almost asked how his stepdad was an ass but was able to hold my tongue this time. Unfortunately, my mouth was on a roll of its own. “Did you get along with your stepbrothers?”
He snorted softly. “The youngest was almost twice my age so we didn’t hang out. Mostly they ignored me and I was fine with that.”
There were a multitude of other questions I wanted to ask…like what made his stepdad such an ass, who was his mother, and was she nice, why wasn’t he working at one of his stepfather’s businesses, and could I see a picture of him when he was young and slightly porky…but all those questions would get him under my skin even more than he was.
The waitress walked up with our food making it easier to pass on the questions crowding my head, but to make it safe I cut up a piece of my chicken and stuffed it in my mouth hastily.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? You can have a serious conversation without keeling over dead.” Evan smirked.
“Unless it’s one of those conversations that sneaks up on you and kills you slowly. I could die in my sleep tonight and then you’ll be sorry. In fact, I feel a case of hives coming on that could lead to something worse.” I made a show of scratching at my arm.
Evan’s amber gaze gleamed. Picking up his burger he asked me, “So, are you from Charlottesville?” He took a bite watching me attentively.
I cut another portion of chicken. “Yep.”
He watched me with hooded eyes and a smirk. “Do you have any siblings, half-siblings, and/or step-siblings?”
My eyes slit in displeasure, and I really thought about telling him to shut up. But what the hell; I could tell him a little about my shit life. It would make him uncomfortable and doubtless cause him to shut up on his own.
“Not that I know of.”
He frowned. “How would you not know?”
“I never knew my parents. I was left in a McDonald’s bathroom when I was a few days old.”
Evan’s brows shot up in shock. “Shit Shaw.” Then sympathy replaced the surprise. It had been so long since I’d told anyone that little nugget of information I’d forgotten about the pity. “Did you get adopted?” he asked.
I shrugged with forced indifference. “No. I guess I was colicky and cried a lot.” One couple had made an effort I’d been told but they’d brought me back because of my crying. My heart only pinched faintly now in past pain. I’d always wondered if that was why my parent’s had dumped me, because they got sick of my crying too. Whatever it was they didn’t love me enough to want to keep me.
“So what…you were fostered out?”
I nibbled at my coleslaw while gazing at the skaters. “Yep.” I went back to the one word responses.
“A lot, or did you end up somewhere permanently?” His gaze remained intent on me as he ate a fry almost unconsciously.
The intensity of it was nerve-racking. “I ended up in a permanent residence when I was twelve.” Yay me! I threw a brief hooded glance his way. “Unlike you I didn’t get my rags to riches story.” Evan’s lips tightened faintly at the ‘rags to riches’ part. It was only an observation, not necessarily envy…okay, maybe a little bit of envy. “The Tagert’s were barely a step above poverty level. They only kept me because of the money they received for housing me.” I hadn’t meant to reveal that last part. I had only meant to tell him the pertinent facts, but it just slipped out.
He sat up straighter with a frown. “Did they treat you badly?”
I snorted. “They’d have to notice me to treat me badly. I was more an invisible tenant.” Except for when I needed to be seen when the social worker came around…and why had I just revealed another personal tidbit. I pulled up a smile. “But hey, I got to do whatever I wanted and not catch any flack for it.”
His brow lifted, but his eyes stayed narrowed and intent. “And what kind of trouble did you get into?”
Wouldn’t he like to know. I leaned forward still smiling and his expression actually turned curiously eager. “The ‘none of your business’ kind of trouble.”
He smirked. “I can imagine though; sneaking out, parties, drinking, sex; the standard teenage shit.”
Yeah, I did do some of that shit for a little while. “I didn’t have to sneak out.” I sneered.
He went back to narrowed eyed thoughtfulness. “Lucky you.”
My gut clenched. Yep, lucky me. I turned m
y attention back to the skaters as I finished off my chicken. One of the kids was practicing a kickflip with his board and not doing so well. I shook my head and mumbled, “Flick faster.”
“Flick what faster?” Evan asked.
Shit, said that too loud. I sighed, “I was just watching that kid and he’s not getting his kickflip.”
His eyes went from me to the park. “Which one, and how do you know what he’s doing or what’s it called?”
“I have a little board work under my belt.” I admitted.
A real smile spread over his mouth. “Reeeally.” He drawled.
Suddenly he was up and tossing our garbage. Grabbing my hand he hauled me up and started dragging me over to the park before I could stop him.
I tried though.
Tugging on his hold I exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
“I want to see what you can do.”
I gaped at his back. “Evan, it’s been three years…and No!” I yelled.
“I’m sure it’s like riding a bike…and Yes.” He rejoined.
“You can’t make me.” I protested like a four year old while still tugging.
His head swiveled so he could grin wickedly at me, causing my personal parts to buzz. “Come on, just one trick…and I won’t have to tell everyone here that even though you’re my sister we have to marry because you’re carrying my love child.”
I stopped tugging. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” The asshole just smirked.
His shit-eating-grin said he would. Ha, he thought he could scare me; nastier men had tried. I raised my middle finger at him. “First off, I wouldn’t care if you did because I don’t know any of these people, and even if I did it still wouldn’t matter. Secondly, I would probably get a kick out of it and just come back with ‘it’s not yours it’s our other brothers’.” His smile was all teeth at that. “But I’m feeling suddenly munificent…” Yeah, I was throwing out big words. “And wouldn’t mind finding out if I still have some skills left.”
“Great.” The turdhole said continuing to drag me behind him.
Walking up to one of the teens Evan asked if he could borrow his board so he could find out if his girlfriend still had come skills from high school. Hearing him call me his girlfriend, even if it was fake, had my hands getting clammy. The kid looked me up and down and grinned at my chest. It had better be because of what it said…I’m sorry I don’t know any words small enough for you to understand…and not because he was ogling my breasts. It was most likely a lot of both.
“Sure, anything for a hot mama.” The skinny teenager replied handing me his board.
The kid was lucky he was a minor.
I’d worn my slip on Keds today instead of my flip-flops otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to do this. Setting the board down I stepped up on it testing to see if I did still have my balance, and found that this board was way better than mine had been. This kid had spent some serious paper in his board. Pushing off I coasted around doing several sharp turns.
“Not bad.” The kid remarked.
“That’s more than ‘not bad’.” Evan said, and the admiration in his tone had stupid butterflies flurrying in my stomach.
Of course I had to up my game because of it and rolled out a front flip. Woo-hoo! I still had it.
“Sick trick, mama.” The kid hollered.
I heard Evan mumble ‘holy shit’ under his breath before calling out. “Shaw, just don’t break anything.”
“Is that actual concern I hear in your voice?” Was that actual concern I was hearing? Color me surprised.
Being on a skateboard after so long reminded me how much I used to love it. As soon as I was old enough to work I’d focused on getting in as many hours as I could so I could start up a savings account. Fun had fallen by the wayside in place of work. Then I’d gotten into computers and that had filled most of my down time.
I executed an air hop.
“I’m serious, Shaw. Don’t hurt yourself.” He urged, both appreciation and anxiety in his voice.
He was concerned. Glancing up momentarily I saw that he was wearing a worried frown. “This from someone who was driving two hundred miles an hour last weekend?” I did a flipkick. “The most I might do is sprain something.” I did a fakie. “You could have ended up as a smear across the black top.” I was in the middle of performing another flipkick when I abruptly remembered how his dad died causing me to lose focus and stumble. I landed on my ass with a grunt.
“Shit Shaw, are you alright?” Evan ran toward me and knelt down looking fearful.
“Nice fall, hot mama.” The kid laughed as he kicked up his skateboard to grab hold of it. He’d most likely fallen on his ass so many times he knew I was basically alright.
“At least I didn’t get credit-carded.” I grunted. The kid barked out a long laugh.
Evan grimaced telling me he knew what that was. Anyone who watched Youtube or Ridiculousness did nowadays.
“Seriously, are you okay?” Evan repeated.
“I’m fine.” Except for my ass, but I had enough cushion there to where it would only bruise. I looked up at him feeling like shit. “I’m sorry for what I said…about the smeared asphalt.”
“What are you talking about?” Frowning, he wrapped his arm around my waist lifting me up off the ground like I weighed ten pounds. It was actually a nice feeling.
He guided me over to the picnic table and I let him…I don’t know why. My butt was twinging with every step, but I was fine.
We sat down and without thinking I set my hand on his forearm feeling like the true bitch I always acted like. “I’m sorry I made fun about you crashing and dying after you just told me about your father. I forgot.”
He was still frowning but with less confusion and worry. “Hey, it’s fine. I knew you were only joking, and if his death was still hanging over me than I wouldn’t be out there racing.”
I sighed and slumped with relief. “Oh good. I know I’ve been a bitch to you, but I would never say something cruel like that.”
He grinned. “You’ve been a bitch? When?”
Raising one brow I just stared at him.
“What…I’m serious. You’ve been a smartass, and sometimes grouchy, but not bitchy. If you’ve been going for bitchy then you need to try a little harder.” He didn’t even bother to hide the amusement dancing in his piercing amber eyes.
The grin I was fighting to suppress pushed its way out. “You must have a high bitch tolerance, because I’ve been trying.”
“I’m not one to tell someone to give up at something, but maybe you should think about quitting because you really suck at being a bitch.” His sinfully handsome smile widened wickedly.
Getting caught up in our repartee I gripped his arm in mock desperation. “Don’t give up on me, I can try harder.” I implored.
Evan’s expression turned suddenly ravenous, and I abruptly took note that our faces were only inches apart…and his arm was still around my waist…and I was clutching at his other arm like I never wanted to let him go.
Oh god! I didn’t want to let him go. I should, I really, really should, but I really, really didn’t want to. What he made me feel…
Evan’s face came closer. “Shaw…”
“Hey, chica, you okay?”
I sprang back in alarm as the reality of the situation smacked me upside the head. Shit, Evan and I had nearly kissed and that would be a huge mistake. My body was one big, throbbing, aching, wanting hormone, but thank god for rude-ass teenagers.
Scooting further away from Evan I glanced up at the skinny teenager. “Nothing but a bruise.” I croaked at the same time Evan dropped his arm and exhaled a heavy sigh next to me.
The teen made a few sardonic, but friendly, remarks on my skills before ambling away, and then I told Evan I needed to get back home to study. I was done with my exams but Evan didn’t know that. The second half of the drive was slightly tenser than the first, and when Evan pulled up outside my apartment building
I jumped out with a quick ‘see you later’.
I dashed up the stairs and into my apartment like Jack the Ripper was on my ass. Thankfully Carrie wasn’t home so I didn’t have to explain why I was freaking the fuck out. My heart was racing a mile a minute but only half of it was because of my run. Evan was totally getting to me and it was messing with my head. I needed to get this job wrapped up so I could get my body and mind back to normal functioning mode…and my heart firmly back in the cold hard ground.
Because it was trying to dig its way out of the crypt I’d encased it in.
I could not let those amber, heart-wrenching, soul-stealing eyes, and his bewitching charm hook me like some ravenous trout. He could be the ultimate end of me.
Pulling out my phone I called up David. I needed to numb my mind and expel some frustration.
CHAPTER SIX
EVAN
I drove off after watching Shaw jump from my barely stopped car and run like the Hounds of Hell were after her in contemplative quiet. I would like to believe that the girl had a problem with goodbye’s, but I was pretty sure it was all me.
I was both pleased and bothered by this; pleased because she was obviously sexually agitated around me, but it bothered me that she was always running from it…from me.
After hearing about her life I understood Shaw a little better, why she was so snarky and skittish. She wasn’t a person who let many people into her private life, she didn’t like opening up about herself, and it was all a product of her upbringing.
Knowing about her crappy life hadn’t dampened any of my desire for her. I wanted to fuck Shaw; every way possible for a few weeks, maybe several. She had me so twisted up with lust I could barely think and that wasn’t like me. Women didn’t muddle my wits; my corporeal response to women stayed separate from my mind. Shaw stimulated me more than just physically; she also got my mind energized.