There’s an emotion coursing through my body, and it’s not a good one. It’s different than anything I’ve felt before. It’s the deepest sense of dread I’ve felt about anything involving another person.
She’s slipping away. Worse, she’s trying to slip away. I think I know the real reason, and it has nothing to do with what she said.
I know in this moment that there’s zero doubt that I love Audrey. It’s a feeling I’ve never had before, but I somehow recognize exactly what it is.
She’s fucking crazy if she thinks it’s ending like this.
Turning on the car, I back out of the driveway, almost hitting the mailbox that needs replacing anyway, and I’m on my way to Audrey’s house.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Audrey
My mom comes down the stairs and finds me sitting at the kitchen table. I’ve just hung up with Evan and I’m crying. Mom’s hair is tied in a bun on the top of her head, her eyes are puffy, and she’s doing that just-woke-up zombie kind of walk.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her eyes opening wider, a look of concern on her face and in the tone of her voice.
I rub my face and shake my head. “Did I wake you up?”
“No. I didn’t even know you were down here until I just saw you.” She pulls a chair out, slides it across the floor next to me, and sits. “What’s wrong?” She puts her hand on my shoulder. “I haven’t seen you like this in years.”
I fall against her but can’t talk.
“Audrey, talk to me.”
When I regain my composure a few seconds later, I tell her everything—from the details of my breakup with Wyatt, to meeting Evan, to Wyatt’s unexpected return and how crazy everything got over the weekend. At several points during the story that gushes out of me, Mom looks at me like I’m someone she doesn’t know.
“How in the world has all of this been going on and I had no clue?”
The answer is: she works a lot, she works odd hours, she’s not here very much, and she’s disengaged from my life. But she has her reasons. I don’t blame her. She’s doing what she can to maintain our family.
And, truthfully, there were times when I could have gone to her about all of this but didn’t. I had no way of knowing it would all culminate like this and that I’d wind up an emotional train wreck over it.
So I don’t say anything. She’s not looking for an answer, anyway. I just let the silence hang between us until she speaks again.
“I think I know that band. Or the name, anyway. He’s on his way over here?”
I nod.
“Look at me,” she says, her finger tucking under my chin and raising my head. “You’re running.”
My vision is blurry from the tears, but not so much that I can’t see the smile on her face and her head moving back and forth slowly.
“I’m not runn—”
“You are,” she says, interrupting me. “You really are. All your life you’ve been afraid of people leaving you, and with good reason, and now here’s a guy you’re obviously crazy about and you’re running from him before he runs from you, and you don’t even know if he’s going to do that.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that.” The words come out weakly.
“It’s exactly like that. You just don’t realize it yet. But you’d better before he gets here.”
I wipe my eyes and nose with a tissue she hands me. “No, I know. You’re probably right.”
“I am right. Give yourself a chance.”
“Why don’t you give yourself a chance?” I ask.
She laughs. “No way am I dating right now. No, I’ll wait until Sophie’s sixteen or so. I’m in no rush, and she doesn’t need that kind of upheaval in her life. Maybe I’ll wait until she finds her own guy who’ll make her world crazy.”
Something occurs to me and it makes me laugh.
“What?” Mom asks.
“I never thought I’d be sitting here in this kitchen with you telling me I should be with a famous rock star.”
Mom raises her eyebrows. “I didn’t say that. But you’re twenty-two, you’re smart, and I know what’s going on in that head of yours even if you don’t. I think you do, by the way; you just don’t want to admit it. I’m just saying…give yourself a chance. I’ll decide if I like this guy later.” She smiles.
She starts to pull me in for a hug, but there’s a knock at the door. Mom looks at me. I have a sudden sense of dread: the only thing that could make all of this more unbearable is if it’s Wyatt knocking, and he and Evan are here at the same time.
“I’ll let you get that,” Mom says. “And I’ll stay out of your way.” She stands and walks over to the coffee pot. “No reason for me to meet him yet, especially looking the way I do.”
I know I don’t look too hot myself, but I don’t have time to get myself fixed up. This is it. This is how it’s going to be.
Walking to the front door, Mom scoots by me and goes back upstairs. “I’ll let you two have the downstairs. Sophie’s still asleep but I’ll make sure she doesn’t come down if I hear her wake up.”
Taking a deep breath, I reach for the doorknob and when I open it, Evan is standing there shaking his head. “Come with me?”
“What? Where?”
“Just come.” There’s almost a pleading in his voice.
“I haven’t even showered or anyth—”
“That can wait. This is more important.”
As desperately as I want to go upstairs and wash my face and brush my hair or at least pull it back, I don’t want to make him wait. I’m not even sure he’d go for that. So I step outside and close the door behind me.
His car is still running and he takes my hand. As we walk down the steps and the sidewalk to the driveway, he says, “You don’t have to say anything, and I’m not going to talk, either.”
I look at him and cock my head to the side. “Okay?”
“It’s going to be awkward for a few minutes. But just trust me.” He opens the passenger’s side door. I start to get in, but he puts his hand on my arm. I look up. His eyes flick back and forth between mine as he speaks. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
We don’t speak as he drives, and there’s no music in the car. He was right—it is awkward. But he’s driving fast, and it’s the quickest trip I’ve ever had from my house to the island. The whole time I’m wondering where he’s taking me. To the bungalow? Probably. That’s where we’d have the most privacy.
But as soon as we get off the bridge, I know where he’s going.
Down one side street, then another, in the opposite direction from the resort. We’re heading away from the beachfront and instead to the Intracoastal Waterway.
People are out walking. Families with little kids, a couple and their dog, and the usual golf cart full of kids. Groups of people carrying lawn chairs and coolers.
Evan wants to talk at the old house. It’s not sunset, my favorite time to be at this house, but it’s still my favorite spot.
He slows down as we approach the house. The tires crunch along the crushed-shell driveway when he pulls in. Evan turns off the car, gets out, and walks around the front over to my side. He opens the door and I step out.
Wordlessly, he takes me hand and leads me along the path to the front porch.
“Why are we—”
He cuts me off. “Wait. Don’t say anything. Let me say what I need to say. I have to say this.”
“Okay.”
We’re standing on the porch, the overhang blocking the mid-day sun.
Evan starts with, “If you think you’re getting rid of me that easily, you’re wrong.”
I want to stop him right there. I want to tell him that between the time we hung up and the time he showed up at my house, I realized it was a mistake. But he told me to let him have his say…
“First of all, you haven’t ruined anything. You couldn’t. That story in Rolling Stone is bullshit and the truth will come out. The video looks bad, bu
t it doesn’t matter.”
“How?”
He laughs. “I know you watch the news and read things online. Haven’t you noticed there’s almost no such thing as bad publicity? What happened the other night at The Windjammer was nothing. People stage things like that. They pay to have things like that staged. Seriously, it’s nothing. So just forget about those things. Okay?”
I look at him.
With a smile he says, “You can say something now, but make it quick.”
“Okay. Got it.” I’m holding back a big smile myself.
Evans face quickly turns serious. He takes a deep breath. “I know what you were doing, by the way. You’re scared. You think we’re getting closer and I’m going to leave.”
His words are spot-on. He gathered that much from the little things I’d mentioned when I told him about my dad and about Wyatt, and it amazes me.
“You need to know, I’m in unfamiliar territory myself,” he says. “I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone. I’ve never stayed up all night thinking about someone. I’ve never spent a day totally distracted from doing what I needed to do because this insanely beautiful, smart, perfect woman dominates all of my thoughts.”
He pauses and my stomach is a tight knot, in a good way. My eyes are getting teary, very lightly, and one drop escapes, slipping down my cheek. Evan raises his hand and catches it with his thumb.
It’s a good thing he wanted to do all the talking because my throat is so tight, I couldn’t get more than a word or two out anyway.
“I love you, Audrey Mitchell. And I know you love me, too, even if you’re not ready to say it yet.”
I don’t plan this. I don’t think about it for even a half second. I just reach for him, throwing my arms around his neck and burying my face in his chest. “I do. I love you.” I manage to get those few words out.
He holds me tight. “There’s something else.”
I look up at him.
He looks out to the front yard. “Look.”
When I look at the yard, I see…the yard. It’s only half-covered with grass. Most of it is sand. It takes me a moment to notice. The For Sale sign is gone. My stomach sinks as I realize Evan has brought me back to this house, my favorite spot, one last time so I can see it before the new owner moves in. I look up at him. “Thank you.”
Evan looks at me, his brow furrowing. “That’s it?”
“What?”
“I thought you’d be more excited. I mean, the ‘thank you’ is nice, but I was expecting something a little more dramatic. Maybe a scream. A little jumping around might be in order as well.” It’s the heaviest tone of sarcasm I’ve heard him use, and that’s when it hits me. He hasn’t just brought me here one last time. He purchased the house.
Pulling away from him, my hands fly up to my face, covering my mouth. I look out at the yard, then back at him. “You didn’t.”
He cocks his head and twists his mouth in a forced grin. “Oh, I did.”
“No.”
“Yes. That’s what I was doing when you called. I had a realtor meet me here this morning. We looked around inside and out. It needs a lot of work.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He bought this place for… Wait. For me? For us?
Evan has done this a number of times since we first met, and he does it again. He tells me something that answers a question I’m thinking, as if he can read my mind, even though I know he can’t.
“You don’t have to move in right away. Take your time.” He steps closer to me, closing the distance I created when the shock set in. “I bought this place because you love it so much, but also because I want you to be sure I’m not leaving. I came a long way to get here, and I don’t just mean the drive. I’m not going anywhere. So…come and go as you want, move in when you’re ready, and I know that might be a while with everything you have at home, but I’ll wait. I do have one condition, though, and it’s not negotiable.”
“What’s that?”
“One night a week, you stay here with me. At least one night.”
“Deal.”
Evan kisses me. It’s long and slow and gentle, but he’s breathing in deeply and I know he’s as overwhelmed by all of this as I am. He has one hand on the side of my head, his thumb caressing my cheek as he closes his mouth but keeps his lips pressed to mine.
When he pulls away slowly, I say, “What do I get out of the deal?”
He grins. “I won’t come out of the house yelling if I catch you stealing the crab traps.”
I laugh. “That’s a pretty good deal.”
“I’ll throw in some perks, too. Sweeten it up a little.” He kisses me again, this time quickly, just a quick one on the lips. He looks at the front door. “I was going to say we should go inside and look around, but it’s going to have to wait.” He takes my hand and leads me down the steps to his car.
Chapter Forty
Evan
If I’d had time, I could have planned this better. I could have had something in the house—a couch, a mattress, even a big chair or something. But circumstances didn’t allow for that, so now we’re in the master bedroom back at the bungalow.
Audrey is standing against the bed, the backs of her thighs touching the mattress. I lift her shirt over her head.
“I’m a mess,” she says.
“No, you’re not.” I don’t care that her hair is in fact a mess, or that she has on no makeup, or that her eyes are puffy and red from all the crying she’s done today. “You couldn’t be a mess if you tried.”
She kicks off her sandals as I unbutton her shorts, and she’s tugging at my zipper, her hand eagerly slipping inside, her fingers wrapping around my cock.
Her teeth are clenched together as she mumbles “Oh God” and it comes out with a hiss. She wants this is much as I do.
Her shorts and panties fall to the floor. I reach behind her back and unclasp her bra. Her tits fall out of the cups, one of my favorite sights.
I lean down and take a nipple in my mouth, my tongue teasing it to the hardness and wetness that I love so much. “Take my pants off,” I tell her as I move to her other nipple. This one gets some special attention—clamped between my tongue and my teeth, as I pull on it just enough to get a reaction out of her.
Audrey has both hands on my cock, end to end, rubbing and turning, her palms so soft and warm. Fuck. I pull my shirt over my head, tossing it to the side.
Lifting her by her hips, I move her up onto the bed, where I get between her legs and push them open as I crawl closer to her.
My tongue leads the way up her body—starting at her thigh, then over her hip, up her stomach, gliding over one breast stopping for just a second suck on her plump flesh, then up to her mouth, where I kiss her one time before saying, “I’m sorry.”
Her hands are on my arms, her fingertips massaging my biceps. Her brow furrows. “For what?”
“That you thought for one second I would leave you.”
She smiles a little. “I’m sorry I did, too. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
I lower my head to kiss her collarbone, then her neck. “You had a good reason. Just don’t let it happen again.”
She laughs softly. “Or what?”
Lifting my head, I look down at her. “Or I might just have to spank you.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, really?”
I nod.
Her hands move from my arms to my chest. Her palms are flat against me, her fingertips teasing, almost tickling me. “I can’t believe you haven’t done that already.”
“Me, either. But we’ve got all kinds of time now.”
I’m moving my hips as we talk. I can feel how wet she is against my bare cock. If it weren’t for the fact that I like this type of teasing beforehand, I would already be inside her.
It’s probably a good thing I’m not; I’m so hard and she’s so wet, I’d probably come before I wanted to.
She’s starting to concentrate on that feeling, too. I can tell by the raw little n
oises she’s making, and fuck I love making her wet and eager for me like this.
I need to be inside her so badly. Teasing time is over.
With one different movement, my cock notches against her and I slide in. Just a little, just enough to watch her mouth open and hear her suck in a quick breath.
I prop myself up with one arm, then reach down with my other hand. My thumb is on her clit, moving around.
She’s so slick, so wet, so fucking horny, and she’s getting more worked up because her hips are lifting off the bed as if she’s begging for more of me.
Pushing into her slowly, I let out a moan of my own as Audrey throws her head back, saying, “Oh fuck.”
She arches her back and I look down at her. This intelligent, career-minded, earnest and nearly pure girl who likes to shed all those things in private and loves the way we have sex.
The sight of her chest heaving as she arches her back, her tits bouncing as I pick up the rhythm, the little gasps and squeals she’s making, and the way she looks at me, her eyes trained on mine like she’s trying to get inside my head while we do this…all of this is something I’ll never tire of.
I want to tell her again that there’s no way I’m leaving her, but she knows it now. I can tell by how she reacted to everything back at the house.
It was in the way she looked at me at one point, just for maybe two seconds, but it was there in her eyes and I knew it: she trusts me, she believes me. And she should.
She writhes beneath me as I pick up the pace, unable to slow myself and deny my body this perfect sensation.
I look down at her as she opens her eyes. “You know you’re the one.”
She nods. “I better be.”
Her arms extend above her head. Her hands grip the headboard.
“Come for me,” I whisper.
“So good.”
“Come with me, Audrey.”
She cries out, raising her knees and her legs lock around my back.
I move inside her with long, deep, desperate strokes.
The Rider List: An Erotic Romance Page 26