Page 75 of It's Always Been You
She actually laughs. “Maybe it’s the coffee. You and Gladys have good taste.”
She meanders past me, and I feel like a stalker as I follow her down the hall to the kitchenette. She sets the bag of ornaments on the break table and pulls two mugs from the cupboard, then sets to work pouring us both a drink, despite the fact that our work day is almost over.
When she’s done, she prances up to me and hands me the mug with a peachy smile.
“Spill the beans,” I implore, blowing on the coffee.
She shrugs nonchalantly, grinning up at me. “I might have learned that someone likes me.”
My eyes narrow as my mug pauses midair. “Adam?” I question, thinking back to the roses. “Sweetheart, that’s been obvious to everyone but you.”
Her grin widens. “Nah. Not Adam.”
I bristle. “Who, then?”
“No one important,” she teases, sipping on her coffee as she leans against the counter across from me. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It’ll never happen. I just like knowing he wants me.”
I lean against the table, studying her. We stare at one another for a few seconds, her smiling, me leering. “Tell me who it is. If it doesn’t matter, you won’t mind sharing.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter.” She waves dismissively. “Besides. Been there, done that. He was nothing spectacular.”
I arch a brow. I’m beginning to think she’s messing with me. “Nothing spectacular?” Is she referring to me? And that night?
Would she really imply I wasnothing spectacular? Right to my face?
I step closer, and she automatically stiffens. Casually, I set my mug down on the table, acting like I don’t notice the way she’s alert to my every move. If she’s going to toy with me, then two can play that game. If she can’t take the heat, she’ll just have to learn to stay out of the kitchen.
Like a frightened meerkat, Evie straightens and backs up as I descend upon her, coming within just a few inches of her. She jumps when I reach out to grab the broom that’s resting between the fridge and the counter behind her. She shuffles in the opposite direction, the warm, freckled skin of her cheeks burning with a blush when she realizes I’m not a real threat to those lips.
Not right now, anyway.
“Why are you acting so jumpy, Spitfire?” I tease, my arm brushing up against hers as I pull the broom toward me. I gesture for her to step back, and she does, her movements frantic.
“I’m not.”
“You could have fooled me,” I say, sweeping up the coffee grinds on the floor. I keep my gaze downcast as I speak, my cheeks hot with adrenaline. “You might have thought he was boring,” I continue in a low voice, trying to keep my voice steady as the memories come rushing back. “But if he still likes you as much as you say he does, then have mercy on the poor fool and give him a second chance. He’s probably desperate for it.”
I look up to find her eyes are as wide as saucers.
I smirk, amused.Oh, Evie. You really have no idea how much I love you, do you?
I prop the broom up and lean against it, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper as I lean into her ear. “Because were he here to respond right now, he’d probably tell you that that night was the best night of his life.”
Evie
Saturday, December 10, 2022
Brandondoesn’twantarelationship. I had a hunch that might have been the case, and I tried to put the brakes on our situationship once I realized what was happening—that I was just becoming another one of his many friends with benefits.
But I couldn’t do it. I’ve tried so hard to keep from going there with him, but I have no self-control, and so it just keeps happening. Overnight, our sweet friendship became something else entirely—something foreign and unmanageable.
This evening, I tried to get him to acknowledge that we could become something so much more than friends who get freaky—and that that’s what I wanted more than anything. A real relationship with him.
But he might as well have spat in my face in response.
