Page 43 of Secrets in Love
“Evie. Are you alright? Where are you? I just got back from Scarlett’s and saw Jocelyn’s car was gone. Everything alright?”
“Yep, I’m fine, Finn. I just, um…couldn’t sleep. It was too cold to walk, so I took the car. I’m just pulling into the garage now.” Yes, a garage. It was a rarity in New York and one we were thrilled to discover when we first arrived. It sat at the back of the house and was accessed by a small, private alley kept ridiculously clean by our neighbor Mr. Yashito. There was no internal access to the place, which meant in the coming winter, our first with snow, we would still have to make a dash between it and the house. But that was a small price to pay for the convenience of off-street parking and storage for our surfboards and Finn’s ridiculously expensive bike.
He met me outside, casting a suspicious eye over me as I guiltily shuffled beside him with my head down.
“You’re up to something, sis. I can smell it a mile away. Oh my God, I can smell cologne too. Evie, have you gone and got yourself a fella?”
“Don’t be stupid,” I snapped, punching his arm. “You’re the only one slutting around at all hours of the night. I told you I couldn’t sleep and went for a drive.”
“That doesn’t explain the smell. You smell all manly, Evie, and last time I checked, you were not a man.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” We entered the house, and Finn followed me closely up the stairs, sniffing me like a hound. “Would you piss off? I stopped and got fuel, alright? The attendant smelled like he’d taken a bath in Obsession, and it must have latched onto me. Now fuck off to bed and leave me the hell alone.” All this was said in a whisper to not wake Iris or Jocelyn, so Finn didn’t hear a word. My glare was enough to either scare him off or satisfy him, and smiling like a freshly laid idiot, he took himself to bed for the same measly few hours of sleep I was about to try and have.
Giggles and a sloppy kiss ripped me from a sexy Nate dream at an ungodly hour.
“You were making funny noises like this, Aunty.” Iris then again made a series of moans, sighs, and whimpers that I never ever wanted to hear from her again. “You sounded like Daddy when he eats a Caramello Koala.”
“What time is it, bubs?” I asked sleepily, ignoring the inappropriate sounds.
“I dunno. Can’t read the clock yet, but Jocie said it was time to wake you up. So, WAKE UP!” That last part was screamed right on my face with full kid morning breath.
“Why are we up so early?” I asked as I stumbled into the kitchen. I knew why. My aunt was on a health kick. The long, uphill walks we took on our weekend in Tarrytown had shaken the old thing to her core.
“I’m getting soft, literally and figuratively,” she yelled to me over blending her smoothie. “Would you like some? This one is pineapple, banana, chia, almond butter, and milk. Some yogurt, baby spinach, and a dash of maple syrup…and maybe some vodka for a little sweetness.”
“Jocie! It’s six am!”
“I’m just joking, darling,” she muttered, calling me a party pooper as she pushed the sizable Absolut bottle out of view. “Hair of the dog, Evie. I may have overindulged on the rosé while speaking to Olivier last night. Besides, I don’t have to go anywhere today.”
“Ahh, you’re talking with Olivier again?” Olivier was Jocelyn’s twenty-something-year-old boy toy in France. The poor kid had gone and gotten feelings for her on her last vacation, and she’d fled in the middle of the night, claiming it was for his own good and that she had no desire to be tied down at her age. But I knew better. She liked Olivier a lot more than she was willing to admit. The sparkle in her eye and wistfulness in her voice whenever she spoke told me so.
“Are you planning on seeing him when you go back? Are you gonna kiss him?” sang Finn, pressing a kiss on his daughter’s cheeks as he entered the room. We both regarded each other’s disheveled appearance but said nothing.
“Don’t you two have anything better to do but interfere in my life? Besides, who says I’m going back?”
“Uhh… Pot. Kettle. Black. Please. Keeping you out of our lives or away from the French wine region and the hot men that call it home is like trying to keep Finn away from chocolate. It’s not going to happen.”
“Okay, then, let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you all about my time and non-existent feelings about Lu— France, and you tell me about yours for—”
“La la la.” Finn and I jumped to our feet.
Nate
At the beginning of my adventures as a ladies’ man, I carried my reputation like a coat of honor. Women in town knew what I was and what they would get from me, and I loved it. I was THE guy. The guy to turn to after a breakup. The guy to go out with when you needed a fun, no-strings pick-me-up. The weapon to make her real guy jealous. I had been many different guys.
There was a look that women always gave me, too. At first, I mistook it for lust, knowing, and hunger. And sure, there was an element of that mixed in, often a bit of alcohol too. But an overriding component of that particular look was judgment. They all judged me. I was Nate the Slut. Nate, the goodtime guy that could give them a dirty little thrill and a quick O. There was no curiosity, no yearning to know me better, only for what they’d heard—correctly—that I could do with my tongue.
That look got old fast.
It felt like Polly was the first to try and see me, to even attempt a glimpse beyond my hard candy coating, but Evie…yeah, she was different, a whole other level. Conflicted, annoyed, angry, more than a little turned on and scared, but definitely curious. Evie looked at me like I was a puzzle she was desperate to solve, and I was more than willing to let her solve me. Or I was willing to let her slide me into place. No woman had ever looked at me the way Evie did. Not one.
And it wasn’t a new thing. Evie had always watched me in a way that heightened my senses.
For instance, the way her eyes just drank me in as I climbed from the hotel pool, then gathered my towel from the seat beside her, deliberately brushing my wet hand against her hip as I did. Every jet-lagged muscle, fiber, cell, and neuron in my body felt her gaze—and my dick…my dick felt it too. It was how I wanted to be looked at for the rest of my life. She could deny it all she liked, but Evie liked me…wanted me…was curious about me. I just had to get her to admit it.
“Why are you swanning around in your swimsuit when I told you to be ready at nine?”
“Why are you stripping me naked as you watch me?”
