Page 100 of Against All Odds

“Everett?”

Again he ignores me.

Ugh, this man.

He turns around suddenly, and his eyes go wide, as though I surprised him. He pulls off his headphones and smiles. “Hello, Violet.”

I go to sigh, but it comes out more of a laugh. “Hello, Everett. What are you doing?”

“Filling your woodpile.”

I stare, managing only to blink. “What?”

“I saw that your woodpile was low, so I’m refilling it.”

Yes, it is low, but how the hell did he see that or know that? “Are you stalking me?”

He grins. “Is it stalking if you see me?”

I laugh, remembering our first encounters when I came back. “Funny.”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Okay, but why are you filling my woodpile? I was going to do that this weekend.”

He looks over at the very low stash. The heat in my house is fine, but it really doesn’t warm me well enough. Having the fireplace going has helped keep the cost of the propane down, which is so expensive, and it’s a nice ambiance when I’m working on lesson plans, or reading a book. It also provides light at night, as I often have to run to the bathroom because the nausea is so bad. I’m hoping the doctor tells me something when I go for my first checkup in two weeks.

“It was low, and I didn’t have anything to do tonight, since practice was canceled,” he says as though it makes all the sense in the world.

“You can’t keep doing nice things for me,” I say, needing to get some kind of higher ground.

“Why not?”

My muscles lock for a moment and I stare at him. “Because.”

“Because why?”

Because I’m already more than halfway in love with you, and I need that to stop, damn it.

“You know why.”

Everett’s grin widens. “I don’t think I do.” He steps closer, pulling his work gloves off. “I don’t know why you’d want me tostop doing things for you, being near you, when you said we were friends and all.”

I hold my ground as he takes another step. “Wearefriends.”

“Are we?” he asks, eyes narrowing a bit. “Because I promise, I don’t get jealous when I find out my friends are having a baby with their ex-husband. I don’t imagine them at night. I don’t watch their windows, waiting for their curtains to move.” I gasp and then he’s in front of me, his chest against mine. “I don’t remember their taste, their sounds, or the way their lips fit with mine. I don’t worry every day and every night that they might need something and they’re alone. I don’t think about my friends’ woodpiles. Those things, they don’t keep me up at night regarding myfriends, but they do when it comes to you. So I’m going to fill your woodpile, check on your propane levels, ensure your fire alarms work, weatherproof your doors or anything else I can think of until you realize, we’re not friends. We were never friends and we’re never going to bejustfriends.” He leans in, and I think he’s going to kiss me. I wait on bated breath, desperate for it, but he moves to my ear. “Call me whatever you want, Vi. Call me your lover, the man you want to forget, the man you pretend you don’t wait at windows for. Just don’t ever call me your fucking friend. We both know it’s a lie. We’re more, so much more.”

Again, he leaves me before I can reply, going back to the woodpile and grabbing the axe.

Yeah, we are so not friends, but I don’t know that we can be more without it destroying us both.

twenty-four

Violet

Imanage to stay away from the window for two days, pretty sure that Everett will make good on his promise.

But I miss him.

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