Reverb

by S. M. West

  Then he’s whipping back around. “Eva, what are you doing here?”

  Molten-amber eyes, full lips, and a square, scruff-darkened jaw is all I see as he stalks toward me.

  “I could ask you the same question.” My insides quiver at being this close to him.

  “This is no place for you. I’m better in here than out there.” The muscle in his jaw tics.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I got into a fight with Miguel.” Shame shadows his tone. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about it.”

  The jeers and lewd comments continue, and his shoulders tense, fingers curling around the bars to the point that his knuckles turn white.

  If we don’t get out of here soon, he’s going to get into another fight.

  “Yes, I heard, and I don’t care. Can we just get out of here?”

  “Ma’am.” The police officer jogs toward me, his expression stern. “You can’t just come back here.” He takes me by the bicep and turns to the men. “Shut up. Now.”

  I wince at his loud command, and Jared says, “Officer, I want to be released.”

  “You just refused a visitor.” The officer is frustrated, but doesn’t make it difficult for Jared to be released.

  Within the hour, we’re strolling out the front doors of the precinct, side by side. He’s guarded, most probably uncertain of why I’m here.

  “Oh, you called Quint.” My eyes land on the muscled bodyguard leaning on the driver door of a black Range Rover.

  “Yeah, but I can drop you at the hotel.” He guides me to the back door, motioning to his guy that he’s got this covered.

  I slide in, and he does after me. I release a sigh, grateful he didn’t sit in the front seat.

  “Can I go back to your place?”

  “My place?” He arches a brow, and his scrumptious lips twitch into a sly grin. “Sure thing. Q, you heard the lady. My place.”

  33

  Bubblegum on fire

  JARED

  “Eva, I have to shower.” My insides are jittery, and I’m unsure what to make of her showing up at the jail but too fucking scared to ask.

  “Okay. I should probably look at your cuts.” She stands awkwardly at the other end of the kitchen, looking as uncomfortable as I feel.

  It feels wrong how we’re acting like strangers with each other and also, oddly right. We’re together. In the same room, talking.

  “Do you have a first aid kit or antiseptic wipes and ointment?” She walks toward me and I step back.

  “I stink, seriously.” I don’t say so, but that’s why I kept my distance in the back of the car. “That jail was rank. I need a shower and clean clothes. I’ll bring down the first aid kit when I come back, and you can play Claire Temple.”

  “Claire who?” She cocks her head to the side and frowns.

  I can’t help but smile. “Luke Cage…the comics. Claire is a nurse and a romantic interest for Luke.”

  “Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her smile is brittle, and I cringe at my poor attempt to lighten the mood.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll bring you into the twenty-first century.” I wink and leave for my shower, returning about twenty minutes later with the first aid kit.

  “Eva, I think I’m fine. I’m clean and my cuts aren’t bad.”

  I want to add that Miguel’s hits were weak at best, but I don’t. I was more hurt when I discovered he’d been married to Eva than any punch he could throw.

  “But you’re swollen.” She walks over to me, pushing onto her toes and lightly pressing her fingers against my scruffy jaw.

  “It doesn’t hurt.” I shrug, relishing her touch and trying not to react the longer she lingers on my skin.

  Her fingers roam my face gingerly, looking for any cuts, bumps, or bruises, and she then picks up the kit. Setting it on the counter, she pulls out a small square foil packet containing a sterile wipe.

  I arch a brow and hold out my hand. “I can do it. That’s going to sting.”

  “Nope, I’m in charge.” Her teasing smile prompts my lopsided grin. “And are you afraid of a little sting? I promise to make it all better.”

  “Okay.” I sit on a stool, widening my legs and pulling her by the waist so she’s standing between my legs.

  With a shaky breath, she’s only inches from my chest, and all I can smell is her tropical goodness. It’s the same scent from high school, and I’m transported to what, while hard to believe, may have been a simpler time.

  She leans closer, wiping the wet square cloth on the corner of my mouth. I hiss when the alcohol hits my flesh and wiggle in my seat.

  Her thigh brushes against my knee, and warmth spreads through me. Then I tense when she blows on what must be my swollen lip to drive away the sting. I harden, blinking back the flare of desire sparking within me.

  “Eva.” My fingers wrap around her wrist, and I inhale deeply, trying to control the urge to kiss her, to touch her. “Stop that. I’m fine.”

  I push from the chair, looking to put distance between us so I can get ahold of myself and my urges.

  The pucker of her full red lips falls into a flat line. “Okay. I think we need to talk.”

  A knot of tension settles in my chest. “Yeah, we do, but I’m beat.”

  It’s barely five and I’m a chickenshit. “You can stay here if you want. I can get my housekeeper to show you to a guest room and you can have whatever you want for dinner.”

  I head to the door, turning my back to a surprised Eva. As much as I don’t know what to say, I can’t walk out like this, so I pause at the doorway, still not facing her.

  “And I’m not sure I can handle goodbye tonight. Can we wait until tomorrow?”

  “Who says it’s goodbye?”

  Hope fires in my belly, and I twirl to face her. “For real?”

  “I lied when I said I wasn’t sure if we had a future. I lied to both of us. I hate what happened with you and Bianca. But it is the past and you didn’t know I was alive. And I can’t change it.”

  She swallows with difficulty, almost weighing her words—some I might not enjoy hearing or she might not enjoy saying. “It’s up to me whether I allow it to destroy our second chance at the life we deserve together. Or not.”

  “Eva, I’m so sorry, and if I could change it, I would.”

  She nods, a few tears sliding down her cheek. “I know. Jared, what we have…it’s rare and special. I can’t walk away from us even when things are difficult or test our limits. We belong together. Our love is true.”

  Taking both my hands in hers, she guides me to the kitchen stools, pulling me down to sit so we’re more eye to eye.

  “I told you that you were worthy of my love, and I meant it with every fiber of my being. It will take time for the ache to dull and hopefully go away, but I’m not going anywhere. A lie may have torn us apart, but I won’t let the past destroy us.”

  “Eva, I have no words…this is what I want. Only you.” My heart rate spikes, and an easy grin slides onto my lips.

  She has that effect on me. Easily erasing my fatigue and agitation at how shitty the past week has been. The desire to fall off the deep end was fierce and only intensified when I thought of a life without her.

  But none of that matters anymore.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” She sways into me like a magnet to steel, and my hands latch on to her tiny waist.

  Her sunny grin warms my insides, and I lean in, stealing a quick kiss even if it may be too soon. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. But you’re right, we can slow things down, give you time to process. As long as I can be with you, I can wait however long.”

  “Thank you.” She cups my jaw and I glance down at her sundress, able to fully appreciate how amazing she looks in the dress now that I can think about more than losing her.

  “Thank you for convincing me to leave.” I clear my throat, leaning back to put some distance between us, and her hand falls to my thigh.


  “Why wouldn’t you leave when they dropped the charges yesterday?”

  “I was safer inside.” I hang my head, ashamed to admit it but also knowing that I need to tell her, of all people. “I’d been in that bar because I was craving a high.”

  Snorting, I shake my head. “Alcohol’s a downer, not an upper, but I just wanted to be numb. To escape life without you.”

  “Jared.” She grabs my hand.

  “It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. It’s the life of an addict. When things get rough, the urge is greater, but I didn’t fall. I was tempted. And then when the cops said I could leave, I had nothing to go to. I didn’t want to find myself in the same position again.”

  “Didn’t you have your sponsor?”

  “Yes.” I nod. “He was there for me, and I’d taken up a lot of his hours this past week. But that’s what he’s there for, I know that. And I went to NA meetings and talked to Silas a few times. I was dealing with it, but I was also exhausted from the struggle and it seemed easier to stay put—like I deserved the hellhole I was in.”

  “Oh…I’m so sorry.” Tears well in her eyes.

  “You aren’t to blame. None of this is your fault. You’re going to have to accept that you can’t carry my burden.” My hand slides to the back of her neck, holding her close to me.

  “Then you walked in front of that jail cell and I almost swallowed my tongue. I was both stoked to see you and pissed.” I change topics to lighten the mood.

  “Pissed?” She wrinkles her brow, twisting her lips, puzzled.

  “Eva, half of those guys. Shit, no, all those men had a boner for you.”

  She groans, burying her face in her hands. “Stop talking.”

  “It’s true. You in this dress.” My appreciative gaze roams the plunging neckline of her cotton dress, flowing enough to hint at the shape of her sexy body. “And you aren’t wearing a bra.”

  Her nipples perk up, tightening into peaks at my smoldering gaze, and I internally battle to stay in control. “I thought I was going to have to kill a few guys and there’d go my chances of getting out.”

  She snorts, lifting her head to look at me. Her hand touches my cheek and her touch is electrifying.

  “I was glad to see you but also remembered that you said we were a mistake.”

  Flinching, she shakes her head vehemently in opposition. “I never should have said that. I was wrong. We could never be a mistake.”

  She stays the night, in my bed, and we sleep together with her wrapped in my arms. I feel like a king and I have my queen.

  Life is good.

  Nothing else matters.

  34

  All I’ll ever need

  Two weeks later

  EVA

  Papi is seated at a table in the far corner of the hotel restaurant. His flight to Spain is later this afternoon. Miguel has already gone back without incident, and as for Bianca, she is out of my life.

  I’ve moved in with Jared, and it was difficult to leave him sleeping in our bed to have this conversation with my father. But it’s needed. I’m anxious to get back to Jared.

  “Eva, this has gone on long enough,” Papi says now that I’m at the table. “I’ve booked a ticket for you to come home with me today. We can arrange for your—”

  “My home is here, with Jared.”

  “No.”

  “You don’t have a say. When I was younger, I may have been disrespectful and disobeyed your orders and for that I am sorry, but I’m not a child anymore.”

  “Eva, that boy—”

  “He’s no longer a boy. He’s a man and he loves me. He is my heart.” I don’t bother sitting, sensing this will be quick and perhaps never resolved. “You may not like that, but you of all people should understand true love. Isn’t that what you had with Mamá?”

  He nods, a sheen to his brown eyes. For all the cruel and misguided things he’s done, he does love fiercely and completely. Even after all these years without my mother, he still weeps, missing her as if we lost her only yesterday.

  “True love?” His brows rise and frown deepens. “Eva, you’re confused. It was a childhood crush, if we must call it anything.”

  “No.” Shaking my head, I gift him a sad smile. “It was so much more than that, and you had to have been blind not to see it. I didn’t have the wisdom or words to explain it back then, but Jared and I are meant for each other. There is no one else for me.”

  My shoulders square and I straighten, looking him keenly in the eye. “I won’t argue with you about this.”

  “And what are you going to do here?” Frustration creeps into his rising tone.

  “I’ll find a job doing what I did in Barcelona. And if I have to take some tests or get recertified, or whatever, I will.”

  I haven’t looked into what’s needed to continue my profession, but I’ll do whatever it takes. None of it is impossible or daunting. It’s what I want.

  “And what about your life in Barcelona?”

  “I didn’t have a life there. I was trying to survive, and there’s nothing there for me.” Melancholy fills my heart for how much my father chose not to see.

  “This is stupid.” He slaps his hand against his thigh, reminding me of a moody child who is unhappy with an outcome. My father has always thought his way is the only way.

  “What you did…the lie.” I change the direction of our conversation like any smart parent will when trying to avoid their child’s meltdown. “I can’t ever get past that.”

  “What?” He leans into the table, brow furrowed.

  “I will forgive you…eventually. You’re my father, but I won’t forget. You made decisions for me that weren’t yours to make. And I’d like to think your motives were good, but that isn’t enough to overlook the past.”

  Tears well in my eyes, and his face creases, troubled.

  “I love you, Papi, but if you can’t accept Jared in my life then we don’t have much of a future.”

  “What?” he says again and pushes his chair away from the table as if to stand. “What are you saying?”

  “You’ve forced me to choose. It didn’t have to be one or the other. You made it this way, and I choose Jared.”

  His tanned complexion pales and deep-set eyes bore into me. “Eva, you’re my daughter. You can’t ask me to not look out for you. I only want what’s best for you.”

  “I’m asking you to trust my heart, trust my judgment. It’s time you give me the freedom I deserve to live my life the way I want to.”

  “And if I can’t sit by and let that…that…” He gives up, shaking his head and mashing his lips together.

  He is so stubborn, and it’s plain to see he might never accept Jared. Sadness is a giant wave, rolling over me, trying to pull me down.

  “You know what I can’t reconcile?” My head tilts to one side, studying him and hoping to get through his thick skull. “You and Jared are similar in some ways.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” he scoffs. “We’re nothing alike.”

  “I didn’t say you were alike in personality. You’re similar in that you both came from what some would say was the wrong side of the tracks. When Mamá met you and fell in love with you, her father thought you were no good for her.”

  Now he nods and twists his face into a painful expression. He’s likely remembering all of the strife and heartache Abuelo’s dislike caused. He made life difficult for my parents, and I suppose my father had a strong role model to emulate in doing the same to Jared. But I won’t let him do any more harm.

  “Abuelo cut her out of his will because she chose you, but she didn’t care. She loved you and knew you were a good man. I’m in the same situation. You put me here.”

  “I’m not cutting you out of my life.” I can hear the sorrow in his words.

  “No, but I will if I have to.” My heart lurches just thinking this may be the last time we see each other. “Jared is the best man I know with the kindest and biggest heart. He loves me like no other could, and I w
ill spend my life with him.”

  My father opens his mouth, most probably ready to object once more, and I hold up my hand to stop him. I’m done listening to his protests.

  “Have a safe flight. Goodbye, Papi.”

  Breakfast is ready and waiting when I return to Jared’s. He’s showering, and I fix a coffee and wait on one of the stools for him.

  Not long after, he saunters into the large high-end kitchen in only lounge pants, hanging low on his tapered hips. Rows of perfectly chiseled abs set my body alive, flipping a switch into full-on need.

  It’s been nearly three weeks without sex, and he’s been nothing but a gentleman thanks to my wishes, but I’m done waiting and looking back at the past. The conversation with my father helped me realize I only want to look to the future.

  “Hey, how did it go?” He lightly kisses my forehead.

  “Fine. As expected.”

  “Are you sure?” He sits beside me, pulling my stool in between his long, toned thighs.

  “Yes. And I don’t want to talk about my father. Not now, anyway. Later.”

  His lips press a slow, long kiss on mine, and I need to touch him. My hands rest on his hard-as-steel thighs, and I lean into him.

  He tenses, the bulge in his pants swelling. “Eva, what are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “You’re getting handsy.”

  “Handsy? Is that even a word?”

  “I just made it one.”

  I snort, laughing. “What? You don’t like my hands on you?” I raise them off his legs and he seizes my wrists, placing them back where they were.

  “Fuck, no, I love your hands on me. That’s the problem. I lose all brain function. All the blood rushes to my cock.”

  “Oh, my God, you’re such a guy.”

  “Yeah, I should hope so.” He leans in to nibble my bottom lip, and I feel a tug in my belly.

  “I love you.” My hands capture the sides of his face, and I dive into his soul-filled eyes. “I’m ready.”