Page 70 of First Verse

He reaches out, warm fingers covering mine where they still clench the comforter. Coaxing me to release the fabric, he pulls my hand to his mouth. Soft, warm lips press to my palm.

“I’m not mad,” he murmurs, breath puffing against my skin. “I understand why you pulled away. It’s okay. I’m just exhausted.”

He kisses my hand one more time before releasing it and rolling onto his other side, dragging the comforter over his shoulder. I open my mouth, an offer to sleep here beading on my tongue, but it doesn’t come.

If he wanted me to stay, he wouldn’t have told me to have Jax drive me home. If he weren’t mad, he would have tugged me onto the bed and into his arms. He would have turned on the lights for me.

He wants me to go.

And if I’m honest, I don’t want to stay. Not in the dark—not even for him.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

evangeline

“Earth to Eva.”

I startle, my gaze snapping away from the kitchen window where I was watching two squirrels chase each other across my back fence. Seated across from me, Lily watches me with a furrowed brow. I don’t know how long I was zoning out, but her laptop is closed, her headphones lowered around her neck.

“What’s going on with you? You look like a zombie and your focus is shit.”

I drag a hand through my hair, wincing when my fingers hit knots. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep last night.”

One of her dark eyebrows lifts. “Given that you don’t have the glow of a marathon sex sesh, I’m going to assume insomnia?”

I nod, unable to articulate the complex truth. How do I explain that I’m a grown woman terrified of the dark behind my own eyelids? That when I’m stressed, it gets worse. So bad I have to sleep with the overhead light on, which ends up being a snake eating its tail scenario—I need the light on to sleep but can’t sleep because of the light.

The softclackof headphones hitting the table pulls me out of my head again. I belatedly register the mix of sympathy and frustration on her face, but before I can think of a lie to defuse her worry, she asks, “Did something happen at dinner last night?”

Hot shame geysers through me. Avoiding her eyes, I study my hands. The sight of my ravaged cuticles makes me wince.

“If it’s about Wilder, I promise I won’t say ‘I told you so’ or anything like that. Believe it or not, I’m rooting for you two.”

“Since when?” I ask, then shake my head quickly. “Sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Eh, I probably did. I wasn’t exactly Team Wilder at first but…” she trails off, color blooming on her cheeks. “Rye has told me a lot more about the bond between you guys, how you were as kids and stuff.”

For the first time since getting home last night, the dense fog inside me clears a bit. I smirk. “Oh, really? Exactly how much are you guys talking?”

She palms her cheeks but not before I see them darken even further. “Pretty much constantly. Is that weird for you to hear? I’ve been afraid to talk about it, but I’m crushing hard. And he seems really into me, too. It’s tripping me out. How is he a year younger than us and ten times more emotionally mature than every dude I’ve dated?”

I manage a laugh. “It’s not weird for me. I saw this coming from a mile away.”

She studies my face, her eyes hopeful and wary. “You’re sure he’s not bread-crumbing me?” she asks in a small voice. “Acting all perfect just to get in my pants and dump me after? I know he’s been with a lot of girls.”

“Definitely not. First of all, I’d kill him. Second, I’ve known him since we were both in diapers, so believe me when I say I’ve neverseen him this into someone. He talks about you nonstop. You deserve someone like him, Lil. A genuinely good guy who’s loyal, stable, and kind. It’s true he’s been a serial dater for a few years, but only because he’s a hopeless romantic searching for The One. So if you aren’t looking for anything serious, you need to tell him.”

She nods quickly. “We’ve actually talked about that a little—what we’re looking for—and we’re on the same page. Now he just needs to ask me out and put us both out of our misery.”

I sit back with a smile. “He’ll crack before the end of the week. Probably on Friday once he sees your outfit for the showcase.”

Happiness flashes across her face, then a speculative focus. “And you’re sure the two of you don’t have unresolved romantic feelings for each other that could potentially destroy all three of our lives in the distant future?”

I mimic gagging. “Absolutely sure. Someday I’ll share with you the eight million reasons why, but we’ll save that convo for your tenth wedding anniversary when it’s too late for you to run away screaming.”

She finally laughs, looking like a hundred-pound weight has come off her shoulders. “Okay. Thanks, Ev.”

I nod at her laptop. “Where were we?”

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