Page 71 of Last Chorus

“Nope. Definitely want to.” He sighs heavily and faces me. “I want you here, Evangeline. I always have. But I’m also too old and too sober to pretend a friends-with-benefits situation with you is the healthiest choice for me.”

I swallow back denials. “I understand. What do you need?”

“If at any point I feel like I can’t do this anymore, I’ll tell you. I need your commitment that you’ll do the same.”

“Agreed,” I whisper.

He nods and looks away again. “No holding hands, kissing on the mouth, or sleeping in the same bed.”

Pain flares in my chest—sharp, pinpointed like a bullet—and spreads down my arms. I want to cry. Applaud him. Slap him. So many feelings flood me all at once that I can’t speak or blink or even breathe.

I finally manage enough air to ask, “Really?”

Wilder looks at me and nods. Eyes wary but resolute. The soft lips I suddenly can’t imagine not kissing open on a swift inhale.

“Are you okay with those stipulations?” he asks tentatively.

“Sure.” The word feels like broken glass on my tongue.

“Is there anything you need? A boundary that will make you feel more safe?” He hesitates. “I could try not to call you Fairy.”

I’m the one who looks away this time. A storm is rolling in, darkening the sky and water, but a few stubborn rays of sunlight cling to a sycamore. The branches are still bare, ghostly and glowing against a shadowed backdrop. As the clouds thicken and the branches dim, something inside me dims too.

I would give anything to be able to trust what my heart is telling me—that I love Wilder more in thismoment than I ever have before. But I don’t know how to trust myself when I feel so tainted. So unworthy.

So small and violent and broken.

I finally turn back to him, meeting his worried eyes. A smile comes with surprising ease.

“Don’t you dare stop calling me Fairy. As for boundaries, I can’t think of anything right now, but I’ll let you know if I do.” I stand up, grabbing my mug. “I’m going to pass out for a bit, then I’m commandeering your bathroom. That soaker tub is calling my name.”

He stands with me. “Of course. I’ll be around—if I’m not in the house, I’m in the studio.”

“’Kay.”

I rinse the mug, pop it in the dishwasher, and head toward the hallway. As soon as I know he can’t see me anymore, my eyes flood with tears.

I’m almost to the stairs when his voice stops me.

“Evangeline?”

I pause but don’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

I duck around the corner and haul ass upstairs.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

wilder

We were wasting time

Racing to hold steady

So either leave me here

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