“Are you saying you want to get to know me?” I ask him.
“Yes, as I said weeks ago. Nothings changed.”
“Will you let me get to know you?”
Evan shifts in his seat and picks at his food. “I guess. If you want to.”
I place a gloved hand on his. “It’s not who you are that holds you back, it’s who you think you’re not.”
He looks up at me under his lashes. “Poetry?”
“No, probably read it on a
Facebook status. But it sounds good, hey?”
We share a smile of understanding; his hand curls around mine and squeezes. “Yeah, sounds good.”
At the end of the afternoon, we walk back to the car. I don’t want to leave this beautiful town, the idea of a looming evening at the battery farm is unappealing. A day chatting with Evan crystallized the reality of my life. I’m isolating myself with the wrong choices. Lack of interaction at work has pulled me into myself. And Evan’s pulling me out.
“Ness.”
Evan lets go of my hand as we approach the car and stops.
“Are you okay?” I ask, turning to him.
Evan reaches a hand out and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. My breath catches as he pulls me towards him with his other arm. Evan bends his head towards me, touching his lips ever so gently on mine before pulling away again.
“You are an amazing person,” he says.
“You hardly know me.” One touch of his lips and my heart rate has doubled.
“I wish I had your strength, to turn away and keep away from things that hurt you.”
I suddenly see a little boy with pain in his eyes and realize he will let me get to know him. Hidden Evan. Not knowing what to say, I brush my finger against his lips and smile. There’s a rawness to the emotion in his face and voice which drags me into him. A gravitational pull into his life I never expected.
I never intended to, but I place my lips against him and taste the sweet orange juice as he parts his lips and I slide my tongue into his mouth. Our tongues tangle and he gently presses me against the car, his hard thighs against mine as our bodies align. There’s no space between us and my head spins again as his kiss reawakens the ecstasy of the night we tangled in my bed. This is safe; we’re in public and the igniting desire inside can be contained.
As if aware, Evan pulls his head back and strokes my eyebrow with his rough thumb. “I like kissing you.”
I rub my lips together, savoring the Evan taste and his scent on my clothes. “I have to admit, I like when you kiss me.”
He cups my cheeks in his hands, dark brown eyes searching mine. “That night together, it was never just another night with another girl. I wanted it to be the first of many mornings I woke up with you in my arms. Can we start again?”
I don’t reply, burrowing my face into his jacket to consider his words. Maybe it’s worth taking a second chance on the guy who fills me with butterflies.
Chapter 17
EVAN
Three days with Ness. Of waking and wanting to be with Ness, even when I only saw her hours ago. Our day away from our everyday lives extends into two more, and every moment I spend with Ness cements me to her. She wants to be with me but doesn’t want anything from me. The three days we’ve spent together feels like three weeks, and each day we discover new things about each other, tiny connections we never knew we had. There’s an easiness of being able to say nothing and just be. Sometimes you need to lose someone to be able to find them.
Lucy fades into the background but she won’t stay there. As if psychically knowing I’m giving my time to someone else, her calls start up again. Sometimes I forget to switch my phone off when I’m with Ness and I wish I could tell her who calls, wipe away the suspicion flickering across her face each time I refuse to answer the phone. Lucy is the last part of my life I ever want Ness to know about, but can’t hide forever.
While Ness changes to go out for the evening, I wait on the sofa, which always reminds me of our first evening. The day she took me to bed. Memories of those hours with her have replayed so much in my head, I’ve worn them out. And the images always have the same effect. So, I stop thinking, greeting her with an erection would not get the evening off to a good start. Sex is off the agenda, understandably. Frustratingly. If she pulls away, I stop, don’t even try to go there. I think I’ve blown any chance of getting her into bed for a while. So I hold her and touch her as much as I can, so I can take memories of the softness of her lips and warmth of her skin home with me. But when I lie alone in bed at night, it’s recollections of the sensation of her breasts brushing my chest or my hands’ touch on her beautiful backside, which obsess me.
Ness is in an odd mood today, back to being snarky. I have no idea why when everything has been so awesome. I hope it’s time of the month stuff and not something I’ve inadvertently done. Or Lucy. You can never tell with chicks. Girls.
When we arrive at the pub, she’s quiet. Contemplative
.
Oh, cra
p
. After three days? I deliberately lead her to the table we sat at before. I sit on the same red vinyl stool, at the same beer stained wooden table and hold her hand. Maybe if she feels like we have our special spot we sit in, she might warm to me more. Girls like that stuff, I think.
I’m trying to read her but it’s tough. Like she’s pissed off with me about something, but why come out if she doesn’t want to be around me? Ness doesn’t take her coat off and she keeps pushing her brown hair out of her face, irritated when it falls back in. I lean over and smooth Ness’s fringe back.
“There’s something I haven’t told you, Evan”
“Oh?”
“I’m thinking of leaving.”
Her words slam me in the chest. What the hell did I do? “Leaving?”
“Yeah, saving up and traveling.” I think she catches the confusion in my eyes. “I planned this before. Before us. I mean, before this.”
I pull my mask back on and smile in encouragement. “Where are you going? Sounds interesting.”
Ness launches into an excited speech about her plans for the future. Every part of her transforms with the enthusiasm she has for her idea - I’ve never seen Ness’s face so animated, eyes so bright. But I understand. Her choices - the job - drag her down, and I realize I haven’t been getting to know the real Ness at all. And I’m jealous. Really bloody jealous. She can have whatever she wants; her past is escapable. Hell, her past will pay for her escape.
“Must be nice,” I say when she pauses.
“What?”
“Having money.”
Her hands, which waved around, painting pictures of her adventures, stop. “I earn my money.” Her animated features settle into hard lines.
“You mean no-one’s going to pay for your trip?”
“By no-one do you mean my parents?”
“You’re going to save it all?”
Ness turns her unimpressed look to me. “Is that beyond the realm of possibility.”
Misunderstanding. Jealousy. Irritation. And we’re back to this. I’ve lost her; her face clouds and she takes a drink.
“It doesn’t matter.” I take a drink too and consider how deeply I’ve put my foot in it.
“What do you think of me, Evan?” she asks.
“It’s probably best we don’t keep going with this conversation. Forget it.”
I wish I’d bitten my tongue, not let my hurt take over
.
Cra
p
. It’s not like we’re a real couple.
“This is very reminiscent of the first time I spoke to you. I thought we’d got past categorizing each other. But what am I? Still see me as Daddy’s princess?”
“No, I think you’ve got an insecurity about your past, if you were a princess I doubt you’d be working in a call center. I don’t think of you that way.”
“What about you? Your past? What’s your big insecurity following you around? What’s your secret, Evan?”
Ness has her eyes fixed on me now, and I know deep inside my stomach this is more than an argument about our past lives. Something is behind her uneasy silence today.
“Don’t,” I warn her.
“Then don’t ask me to open up to you.” She drinks her beer in several gulps. “I think I should go.”
I put my hand on hers. “Ness? What’s going on?”
With impeccable timing, my phone rings. Ness glares at it, then at me. “Answering it?”
“No.”
She stands and I catch her arm. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you. I just reacted badly to you saying you were leaving. You took me by surprise.”
“We hardly know each other still. Like this. What’s this all about? Every day.” Ness gestures at the phone.
The phone rings again and I cancel the call.
“What about you? Haven’t you done the same? Pigeon holed me?” I ask.
She snorts. “Into a guy that screws around because he has abandonment issues?”
I curl my fingers around my phone, the metal crushing into my palm. “Too far, Ness.”
Ness leans over the table, breathing heavily. Her bright eyes startle me. “Well, you screwed me and never got in touch.”
My ringtone interrupts my answer.
“Answer it, for fucks sake! What is your issue with phones?” she snaps.
I cancel the call and slam the phone on the table, blown away by her. And where this came from. The last time I fought with a girl, she was a blubbering mess within seconds. Ness is poking straight into my wounds, exposing her own at the same time without realizing. The way she’s looking at me now, I could do the cliché thing they do in chick flicks - lean across the table and kiss her, tell her I want her, tell her all my secrets. The thing is, I don’t think Ness is a chick flick kind of girl. She sits back on the stool. The tension between us is tight, I’m willing her not to leave. Because I’m not sure she’d ever come back. What the hell is going on with her?
I’m concentrating on her so hard, I miss my phone ringing again. Ness snatches it off the table and looks at the screen. Before I can take the phone off her, she sees the name. The anger in her face melds into something else. Hurt? Disgust? I don’t know. She holds her arm straight, phone centimeters from my face.
“Lucy wants to talk to you.”
“Put it down.”
“Your girlfriend wants you,” she says in a cold voice.
“She’s not my girlfriend, put it down.”
The phone stops ringing and she turns it back to herself. Ness scrolls down the screen “Lucy really wants to talk to you, today alone she’s tried twenty times.”
Her demeanor could freeze the room.
“You bastard,” she says softly, “I knew something was going on. Did you screw her and leave as well?”
“No.”
Ness stands and pulls her bag onto her shoulder. “I’ve had my suspicions. You and that fucking phone, hiding hushed conversations from me.”
I rub my hand down my face. “It’s not what you think.”
“Oh yeah, it never is, is it? I waited for you to explain to me and you didn’t. So there’s a reason, isn’t there, Evan?”
All I can do is shake my head. The words won’t come out. Why can’t I tell her? I need to. Or she’s gone.
She makes a derisive noise. “See, you have no explanation. I don’t understand why you decided to screw around with my feelings. Call your girlfriend or whoever she is. And keep the hell away from me.”
****
NESS
I’m angry. Really fucking angry. But with myself, for letting him suck me into his lies. How long was he going to keep going for? Until he screwed me again? The next few days I mull over the whole Evan episode. Men say women are confusing but I don’t understand his game. Either Lucy has been in his life all along, at least since the night he kissed me, or he’s a serial heartbreaker who chooses girls inclined to stalk him afterwards. Twenty calls in one day. Jeez. That’s crazy, the girl should get the hint.
Well, he needn’t worry about me stalking him, I’m out of this. My crazy was my hormones, and they’re under control now.
The first day I receive texts and calls from Evan, which I don’t answer. How ironic. After a day he gives up, and so easily this hurts me more. Then I start obsessing over who Lucy is. She could be any one of his number of conquests - I wonder how recent. I waited for him to explain the calls. But he didn’t. Then I think back to the first time he kissed me and the phone calls. The same girl? She could be an ex from home, which explains his trip to Lancaster.
Whoever she is, she’s persistent.
I come home from another crappy day at work to find the kitchen overflowing with dishes and rubbish. The bitchiness at work gets worse as my withdrawal from bothering to interact with anyone there increases. I contemplate leaving but I need the money for going away. So I stick pictures of the countries I intend to visit all over my cubicle and when a particularly awkward customer calls, I focus on Australia. Or India. Or anywhere with no call centers, students or Evans.
And then I come home to this bullshit. The house is littered in dirty mugs, empty pizza boxes and clothes strewn around. Abby only has four hours of class a day and I’m sick of her laziness. This house share idea has threatened our friendship from day one. It’s a good thing I’m going soon.
An envelope is propped against the kettle, my name scrawled on the front. At first, I think the note is from Abby but the writing isn’t familiar.
I open the envelope and inside is a card with a painted picture of a blue butterfly on the front. Inside is blue handwriting:
‘I almost wish we were butterflies and
liv’d but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.’
Tears spring into my eyes and I blink rapidly, furious with my reaction. Beneath the text, more words.
‘I want to tell you about Lucy’. Evan’s name is signed underneath, spiky letters.
I lean on the sink, attempting to catch my breath and the tears flow. The card infuriates me - this attempt by Evan to worm his way into my psyche through something he’s seen in the movies. And it’s worked. There’s a poignancy in the words and the simplicity of his message which punches a hole straight through my defenses.
I scrub my eyes. Okay, he can tell me about Lucy. But his explanation won’t change anything. Because whoever she is, he’s lied to me by hiding her.