by J. L. Berg
“August?” she guessed.
“No…yes,” I said softly. “It’s complicated, okay? He’s just there…all the time. In my thoughts, my dreams…constantly invading everything. Again. I don’t want him to be, but there it is. I just feel distracted and worried and anxious all the damn time,” I finally confessed.
It was a confession I hadn’t even admitted to myself, and having the courage to finally say it out loud made me feel like a heavy weight was being lifted off my shoulders.
Whether I wanted him to be or not, August was back in my life. I had to figure out how to deal with that. Did I terminate all contact with him? That would be the healthier option, the clearer path, yet when I thought about never talking to him again, my chest tightened and I didn’t know why. This man—the one who’d caused me so much pain…why couldn’t I walk away?
Sarah’s warm hand touched mine and I looked up to see her tender, searching gaze. “Don’t let him delay your life—again. Pick a place, marry Ryan. Live, Ev, and finally let your past go.”
I nodded, knowing every word she spoke was true. She was right. I needed to let go. I needed to walk away. For good.
“Well, I did really like the little rustic church you showed me,” I replied with a sheepish smile.
“Now you’re talking,” she grinned. “Now let’s talk centerpieces.”
My head was already spinning.
* * *
Nervously glancing down at my phone again, I checked the time and sighed. I’d promised Ryan I wouldn’t be longer than twenty minutes, tops.
That had been almost forty minutes ago. God only knows what he was doing in this place without me. There were many reasons why I loved Ryan—his sweet nature, his devotion, and even his quirky shyness. He might have relentlessly pursued me, but only because he’d thought I was even more introverted and standoffish than he was.
Little had he known I was just scared and broken.
He figured that out soon enough, though; but still, he didn’t run. That was when I knew he was a keeper. I’d been holding on ever since. And now I had to find my shy nerd of a man and rescue him from the San Francisco elite.
I moved quickly through the crowd. People mingled in the lobby, grabbing pre-show drinks and talking amongst themselves. It was opening night and everyone was dressed to impress. Designer gowns, fancy shoes, and of course jewelry were on display as I dodged and wove my way, trying not to choke on the expensive perfumes as they muddled the air. My eye caught a little girl clinging to her mother in the corner. The two of them, although nicely dressed, appeared far more conservative than many of the others, and seemed to be in their own little bubble. The mother reached down to adjust the child’s dress, smoothing out the skirt so it lay flat over many layers of crinoline. She smiled, placing a small kiss on her daughter’s forehead. Excitement and anticipation sparkled in the little girl’s eyes as she waited for the doors to open and the show to begin.
I was so lost in the moment, wondering what it must be like for her to have that cherished memory to hold on to, that I stopped watching the path in front of me, and suddenly two hands gripped my shoulders, ceasing my movement.
“Everly?”
I looked up and saw the last person I’d expected to be here. My eyes moved down to where August touched me and I immediately pulled back, putting space between us, but the heat from his touch felt like a brand as my hand raced up to feel it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, taking one last look at the mother and daughter before the crowd consumed them and their happy faces disappeared.
“Apparently I donate to the arts,” he answered with a shrug.
“Yes, you do,” I replied. “For many years. When you—after the coma, I was named the executor of your estate, so I just continued your charitable contributions,” A twinge of guilt felt like it was gnawing at my side.
He nodded, a warmth in his eyes I wasn’t sure what to do with, so I averted my gaze and looked at my nails, the ceiling, the floor. Anything but him.
God, I want to look at him.
“Thank you. I truly appreciate everything you did for me—I know it must have been…difficult.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. Or at least a short one, so I let the awkward silence between us answer for me.
“Anyway, since I’m a large contributor, I was invited to tonight’s event, and I thought why the hell not?”
A small chuckle escaped my throat, and I tried to cover it with my hand.
“You find that funny?” he asked, excitement lighting his hazel eyes.
“It’s just you were never one for ballet,” I commented.
“Well, I’m trying out new things. Many new things. Like peanut butter… Do you like it?”
My brow peaked in amusement at his random question. “Kind of?” I answered.
“I love it. I could put it on anything. I think I ate an entire jar yesterday. And watermelon—I really like watermelon.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It had been so long since I’d seen any emotion other than anger or jealousy from this man.
“So this is what you’re doing with your time now? Taste-testing foods and going to the ballet?”
His eyes lifted toward the bar, and I followed his gaze. A curvy red head wearing a low-cut dress and a ton of jewelry smiled and waved.
“Ah, I see. Sampling other things as well?” I asked, as a sharp twinge of jealousy burned through my chest.
“Trying, I guess. Actually, I really can’t stand her,” he admitted with a laugh.
A smug smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth and I instantly tried to stop it. “Why? Not into redheads anymore?”
Why do I care?
His gaze settled on me before he spoke. “Not that particular one.”
Butterflies blossomed in my belly.
As if she’d been called, August’s date arrived at his side at the same time as I caught sight of Ryan. Seeing him was like being hit with a splash of cold water, and suddenly I realized who I was standing next to. Ryan’s eyes immediately narrowed on August, and I felt my heart jump into my throat.
“Everly.” Ryan’s hand slid possessively around my waist as he approached and he pulled me tight against him. The two men eyed each other but said nothing, and I couldn’t help but notice the way August watched Ryan’s hand as it slowly moved back and forth over the fabric of my dress. Finally he grabbed his own date for the evening and muttered, “It was nice seeing you, Everly. Enjoy the performance,” before disappearing into the crowd.
“What the hell was that all about?” Ryan barked, turning me to face him as he looked me over from head to toe. His eyes were full of worry and concern, I linked our hands together and placed my head on his shoulder.
“Nothing. It was nothing. I just ran into him on my way to finding you.”
“I don’t like seeing you around him,” he gritted through his teeth as I felt his lips touch my forehead.
“I know. I don’t like it either,” I answered. I avoided his gaze as I wondered if I’d just added one more lie to the ever growing pile.
“So, who is she playing?” Ryan asked, looking down at the playbill. I rolled my eyes and giggled at his ignorance. He’d never been to a ballet in his life and probably never would have gone if I hadn’t made him come tonight.
“Odette,” I answered, pointing to the first page, where the principal cast was listed. His eyes lit up in recognition, and he watched as I flipped toward the middle where the bios and pictures were.
“Hey, look! There she is,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. Although Sarah and Ryan didn’t hang out all the time, they had grown closer over the last year and a half, and a mutual friendship had blossomed. I was glad to see him here supporting her—even if I’d kind of had to drag him out the door when he’d found out he had to wear a suit.
Support was support—even if it was forced, right?
I managed to pop a breath mint and stow my purse under the seat only seconds bef
ore the lights dimmed and the orchestra began their opening notes to tune up. The conductor entered the orchestra pit and took a bow, then quickly raised his hands and began. My eyes were fixed on the stage, ready for when Sarah might enter.
I really should have checked the playbill.
Snagging it out of Ryan’s hand, I turned it toward the stage for light and realized she wouldn’t come on for several scenes. My excitement died down a bit and my eyes began to wander.
Don’t look for him, Everly. Don’t do it.
But I didn’t need to look.
I already knew where he was. He’d always sat in the same seat—the best in the house.
* * *
“August—why do we always sit here?” I asked, glancing around at the large, private box seats set high above the stage. The first time we’d sat here the height had been a little alarming, but as soon as the show began I’d forgotten all about it. I loved everything about the performing arts—the songs, the passion of the actors, and technique and dedication of the dancers. I’d never once done anything so daunting in my life, and yet I was fascinated by it.
“Because they’re the best,” he’d simply answered, taking my hand in his and squeezing as we both watched the modern ballet unfold below. So different from the classical pieces I was used to, this performance pushed boundaries and brought a completely new style to dance. I was mesmerized watching the couple as they moved together across the stage. He lifted her with ease, sliding her down his body, until she fell gracefully to the floor. As he moved to hover above her, I felt August’s hand cup my knee. His mere touch sent fire through my veins.
I glanced over my shoulder but August shook his head. “We’re alone,” he whispered, motioning to the tightly pulled curtain behind us. My heart hammered in anticipation of what he had planned as I glanced down at the hundreds of unsuspecting patrons below.
I’d tried to keep my focus on the beautiful couple as they’d moved through the passionate routine, but the further his hand moved up my thigh, the harder it became to breathe at a normal rate.
“Spread your legs wider,” he instructed, his voice hoarse and commanding.
As I did as he requested, I thanked the heavens the balcony was high enough to cover my less than ladylike posture. And that it was dark.
I was very, very glad it was dark.
“Let go, Everly,” he whispered as his hand slowly disappeared between my thighs.
I exhaled deeply, and my eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment as I did exactly what he said.
I let go.
And it was exhilarating.
* * *
“Everly, did you hear me?” Ryan’s voice cut through the memory like a sharp knife, reminding me of exactly where I was. I blinked several times and sat up straight, looking right at the stage.
Sarah had made her grand entrance.
And I’d missed it.
“Is that her?” he asked, obviously for the second time.
“Yes,” I said softly, watching her every movement as she danced across the stage.
I’d missed her entrance.
Because I’d been thinking of him. I willed myself not to glance up, not to give in to the curiosity that was churning inside me to know what he looked like up there without me.
Was he doing the same thing up there with her?
Why did it matter?
Pay attention to Sarah.
I made it through the entire first act without a single glance upward. The heavy red curtain pulled tightly closed and the applause died down, and people made their way out to the lobby for refreshments and bathroom breaks. I finally gave in and found myself looking into the eyes of the man I’d sworn I’d never love again.
The man I’d walked away from years ago.
The same man I couldn’t stop thinking about.
* * *
“She did great, didn’t she?” Ryan boasted as we made our way out of the theater.
“Yeah,” I smiled, remembering her beautiful body twirling and spinning with ease across the grand stage. “She was beautiful.”
“Are all ballets that long?” he asked, squeezing my hand, making me laugh as I leaned my head toward his.
“Yes—and I promise I won’t take you to another.”
“Thank you!” His voice rang out in reverence, causing me to roll my eyes. I caught a whiff of his hair as we took the last step toward the sidewalk. He still hadn’t switched back to his normal shampoo yet and smelled like strawberries.
“Are you ever going to go to the store and get shampoo?” I asked, with an amused smile.
His hand reached up to his head, running his fingers through his messy hair. “Probably not. You never forget to buy that fruity shit you’re always using and I kind of like smelling like you,” he admitted with a wide grin.
“You’re weird,” I said, shaking my head as we turned the corner. There were tons of people flooding out of the theater. The sidewalks were packed—people were waiting for taxis, climbing into limos, and walking to distant parking spaces like us.
My eyes began to wander, looking over the crowd, searching for someone. I hadn’t even realized who I was looking for until my eyes settled on him.
Without thought, I’d managed to find August in a crowd.
Instantly, regret filled my belly, but I couldn’t turn away as I watched him carefully escort his date into the back of a sleek, black car. His hands lingered around her waist, casually dipping lower as he followed her into the car, severing my connection right before I took a nosedive into a gigantic pothole.
“You all right, Ev?” Ryan asked, catching me as I stumbled. Brushing it off, I gave him a sideways smile and nodded.
“Just fine,” I answered. “I’m just fine.”
I looked back one last time as the car carrying August and his date pulled into traffic. Wrapping my arm around Ryan, I tried to tune out the mental images that were threatening to drive me insane.
I’ve moved on and so should he, I told myself.
Even if it is with a floozy redhead.
As we silently approached our car, I wondered how many lies you could tell yourself before you went insane. Because thanks to August, I was definitely starting to believe I was on my way to being committed.
Chapter Twelve
August
No words were said between Meg and me on the drive back to my house.
I didn’t even bother asking if she wanted to come home with me—I just assumed, or didn’t give her the opportunity to say no. After the evening I’d just had, I didn’t want to be alone, and even though I’d rather be with just about anyone else on the planet, currently she was my only option.
So, the car drove on.
And I thought.
Tonight had started off harmlessly—another experiment in life to discover who the new August Kincaid was. But the moment I ran into Everly, I knew the carefree night I’d envisioned was gone.
She made everything complicated.
Just seeing her made me confused, and it wasn’t something I could fix by simply picking out my favorite amongst a few options—because she was definitely off the menu. And somewhere deep down—that bothered me.
A lot.
The black sedan came to a stop, and I looked up to realize we had made it back to the cliffs. Meg’s eyes were wide with wonder as she took in the large house and affluent neighborhood.
She was probably thinking she’d just won the fucking lottery.
Too bad I wouldn’t be calling her after tonight. Apparently I wasn’t too different from my old self after all.
I paid the driver, thanking him for his service and we both stepped out, then I led her to the front door. “Beautiful house,” she commented before she’d even crossed the threshold.
“Thanks,” I replied dryly.
Taking a look around, I watched as she most likely mentally rearranged the furniture and planned our destination wedding in the Caribbean.
Even knowing all that di
dn’t stop me from offering her a drink. She was my distraction, and as Everly’s beautiful face flashed across my mind once again, I knew I needed one.
Fast.
Even her drink choice annoyed the shit out of me.
Sex on the Beach—who asks for that outside of a college bar?
“I have no idea how to make that,” I admitted. “Maybe a glass of wine, or a rum and coke?” I offered.
“Rum and coke would be fine,” she smiled, her eyes batting like crazy.
“One rum and coke coming up.”
I really had no idea how to make anything, honestly. I wasn’t sure if that was something I’d lost or if it was just something I’d never learned. Either way, I just improvised and threw in a good amount of rum and twice as much coke and hoped it tasted all right. I’d learned over the last week or so that I was more of a beer guy. Fruity drinks had been put into the same category as mint-chip ice cream.
“So, what did you say you do again?” she asked.
“I didn’t,” I answered, taking a long swig from my beer before adding. “It’s complicated.”
“Okay,” she said softly as she walked slowly around the living room with her drink. Her long legs took one deliberate step at a time. She was beautiful, especially tonight, with her hair out of those ridiculous braids. The black dress she wore left nothing to the imagination, showing ample cleavage and every round curve.
But nothing compared to the elegant gown Everly had worn, that accented and hinted but never screamed sexy.
In a way, that made it so much more.
“That couple you were talking to tonight—old friends?” she asked, as if she were able to pick up on my exact train of thought.
I glanced up at her, leaning against the fireplace like a male fantasy come to life.
And I was thinking of another woman.
I set my beer down and walked toward her.
“I guess you could say that. It’s—”
“Complicated?” she guessed.
“Yes.” I gave her a weak smile as I reached her, sliding my hand up her curve of her waist.