Page 38 of A Match Made In Evan
My brain explodes. Or, at least, it feels like it does. With my eyes shut —and I have no idea whenthathappened— I see stars. Someone is shouting incomprehensibly, and I have the strangest feeling that it’s me. Blood roars in my ears, which should be impossible seeing as my body’s supply was being routed to my cock, and I’m shaking,tremblingas I come down from the most intense orgasm I’ve had in my whole life.
I barely register the mattress bouncing beneath me as James crawls back up along my side. His hands smooth over my body, gentling the adrenaline shakes.
“You with me yet, honey?” he asks, and I’m surprised that my own chuckle sounds watery and weak.
Did I…was Icrying?
“I like it when you call me honey,” I tell him, the words coming out all mumbled and jumbled.
James kisses the back of my head, then my temple, then my cheek. I snuggle up against his bare chest, my eyelids drooping.
“Go to sleep,” he urges, then yawns himself. “That was…”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I love you.”
Even though it’s even more garbled than my previous sentence, he seems to understand. His arms tighten around me, and his lips ghost over the shell of my ear. “I love you, too, Ev.”
Chapter Thirteen
James
“You’re the actual best,” I tell Ev as I toss my overnight bag into the backseat of my car. “I tried to get them to send Moira, but—”
“Baby, it’s fine,” he soothes, then stills my anxious movements by placing flattened palms over my chest. “You’re gone for two nights. Pretty sure I can keep your sixteen-year-old alive until you get back. She’s easier to look after than that godforsaken houseplant you had.” Sighing, he shakes his head. “I still don’t know what you were thinking getting aplant.”
“Funny, most people find plants easier to keep an eye on than children.”
As usual, he’s managed to ease my anxiety with a few words and a smile.
When Collin told me that I had been chosen to represent our firm to our largest client, I’d been thrilled. It was my campaign pitch which had won them over, after all, so it made sense that I head up the planning meetings. Except, the client demanded that the meetings happen in person, at their head office in Sydney, and there was no way I could get out of the three-day work trip.
Thank God I have a boyfriend who loves my kid as much as I do. He volunteered to say with her for the two nights I’ll be gone without me needing to even ask.
We’ve been together —really, officially together— for just over a month now, and nothing between us has really changed. We’re more affectionate with each other, and we’re not pretending that the orgasms we’re sharing are just ‘bros helping bros’, but…that’s it. We still hang out and watch sports together, still share beers and talk shit, and still go out for dinner and drinks just like we used to. We just…kiss now. Hold hands. Play footsie. It’s like the missing piece in our friendship has been filled.
Not that either of us knew there was a missing piece to start with. We’re just…closer now.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport and pick you up on Thursday?” he asks, shaking me out of my musings.
“Nah. Work is covering all my expenses. Might as well make them cover the exorbitant parking, too, right? No sense making you come get me when I get in at stupid-o’clock on Thursday, either.”
Evan pouts exaggeratedly and tugs me in by my beltloops. “It just means I have to wait that little bit longer to see you again.”
“Oh my God, you’re ridiculous,” I laugh, and he cracks up, too. Then he swats my butt and gives me the shooing motion.
“Go,” he says, “I’ve got this. I promise Mia will still be in once piece when you get home.”
“My plant was still in one piece,” I grumble. “Just drowned.”
“I promise not to drown Mia.” It’s the exaggerated, nearly-teenaged way he says it that gets me laughing again.
“You’d better not,” I point my index finger at him sternly. “We can’t make a replacement.”
His grin turns positively wicked. “But we cantry. Come back soon and practice knocking me up, Jay. Oh, hi, Mrs. Wakerley.” He waves over my shoulder.
I feel heat climbing up my neck and over my face as I turn to find my elderly neighbour frozen at her mailbox. Her cheeks are pink, and she’s clutching her fuzzy lavender-coloured bathrobe tightly at her chest.
God, I hope we haven’t scandalised her into a heart attack…
