Exit Stage Six: A Contemporary New Adult Romance Novella (5 page)

“Someone was looking for you.” I said sleepily. Evan stilled
behind me. I had gone to bed at eight, I had no idea what time it was now, but
I had woken to my window sliding shut and Evan getting into my bed with me.

“Who?” he asked.

“Hal.” I said.

“Son of a bitch.” His shoulders dropped in what I think was
relief, I couldn’t be sure.

“He’s worried about you.” I turned over and looked at him,
he drew me against him and I gave him what he needed, putting my arms around
him, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I echoed.

“What did he say?” he asked and his voice was strained.

“I told him you weren’t home and he said he was your
bandmate, I said I was sorry to hear about his loss and he asked if you’d
talked to me about it. I said yes, some, and he said you wouldn’t talk about it
with anyone, that they were worried about you. I told him to give you time.
That you’d talk when you were ready, and to just be there for you.”

He relaxed beneath me, his arms tightening around me.

“Thanks.” He said, voice gruff with some unnamed emotion.

“You’re welcome.” I replied softly. We were silent a long
time. I was nearly asleep when he said to me:

“Hey London?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay away. I know this isn’t fair to
you…” I cut him off.

“Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“Was the window unlocked?” I asked.

“Yeah…”

“Well, okay then.” I said.

He let out a breath and hugged me to him and my blood fizzed
through my veins like fine champagne. I wasn’t going to pretend to myself that
this wasn’t hard. I wanted Evan to touch me, I wanted him to talk to me… I kept
telling myself to be patient. I needed to be patient for him. No one had been
patient for me, no one had waited for me to come out of it on my own and that
had hurt. I didn’t want a single other person to go through their grief that
way. Not if I could help it.

I drifted off to sleep clutched against Evan’s chest like
some precious treasure and I was okay with that, because I think it was what he
needed but also, selfishly, it was what I wanted…

~*~

“Why do you put up with my shit?” he asked me, hours later.
We were still warm and close in a nest of my blankets. His hand on my hip,
thumb making careless circles there over the thin cotton of my short nightgown.
I was hyperaware that should his touch drift a centimeter lower that he would
find skin rather than cloth and was having a very real internal struggle about
it. Half of me wanted his long graceful fingers to dip beneath the ridden up
hem of my nightgown, the other half of me was screaming at me about being
selfish.

I rolled my lower lip between my teeth and tried to focus on
how best to answer him.

“L.B.?” he asked. My eyes flicked to his and I was suddenly
forgot how I was supposed to breathe. The green depths vivid in his pale skin,
pupils ringed in a starburst of gold to make the green hue around it that much
greener.

“I know what you’re going through.” I said, startled by the
admission that issued forth out of my mouth.

“How do you know?” he asked, “Who did you lose?” I blinked
and recovered quickly.

“Nuh-uh.” I said and he frowned.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because, I tell you things about me, you’re one big
mystery. You tell me something about you and then I’ll tell you something about
me. Give and take from now on. I think it’s only fair seeing as you keep
breaking into my apartment.” He looked stung, then had the grace to look chagrined.

“Okay. Ask me a question.” He sucked in a breath and I
thought about it…

“Why
do
you keep coming here?” I asked.

“Same reason I keep calling you L.B.” he said softly and I
arched a brow in a silent urge for him to elaborate. He let out a gusty breath.

“You’re my bridge, back out of this… whatever this is…” his
hand moved off my hip to wave ineffectually between us in gesticulation and I
felt a stab of wistfulness at the loss of its warmth.

 “’This’ as you put it, is grief, mourning… loss at its
worst and most painful. Give it time Evan, it hasn’t been that long and whoever
D. was, he meant a lot to you.” I cradled his cheek in my palm, thumb smoothing
over the stubble on his cheek and he closed his eyes.

“Shit, London, this isn’t fair to you!” he captured his full
lower lip between his teeth.

“Life isn’t fair Evan.” I reminded him. His eyes opened and
he leaned forward and claimed my mouth with his in a fierce kiss. His hand went
back to my hip only lower, palming the outside of my thigh. He smoothed the
hand down my leg and hooked his long fingers behind my knee, dragging me
closer, bringing my leg up over his hip.

He disengaged from the deep kiss and sucked in a breath like
a drowning man coming up for air. I could feel the hot press of his erection
through his boxers against my body, an answering wetness collecting there.

“You’re not wearing panties.” He observed, hand travelling
up the back of my leg, over the curve of my ass. I shuddered.

“I don’t usually when I go to bed.” I pointed out, “You
crashed this party, remember?” he smiled and his hand kneaded my ass. I closed
my eyes and bit back a moan.

“I don’t think I can stop this time…” his voice was husky,
deep and rough with need.

“I don’t want you to stop.” Mine was low and breathy.

“Condoms?” he asked and the butterflies in my stomach did a
summersault.

“IUD.” I answered. He tilted his head and regarded me.

“Why would you do that?” he asked.

“What?” I frowned.

“You’re twenty-three… most twenty-three year old girls rely
on condoms, or the pill or at the most injections.” He as searching my face
now, curiosity shining in the too-green depths of his eyes. Things were cooling
off by like a lot and quickly. Frustration swamped me but if we were going to
go there he might as well know the truth.

“I don’t want kids,” I said. I closed my eyes and waited for
the incredulity, the surprise… the objections that I was too young to make this
kind of decision but none of it came. I opened my eyes to see Evan frowning,
but with concern.

“That’s a pretty big decision.” His hand was massaging my
thigh and I swallowed.

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asked and waited patiently. My mouth was dryer
than the Sahara.

“Because of my dad…” I started.

“Oh God! Did he…?” he crushed me to him and I scowled
pushing him back so I could look at him.

“God no! He died Evan… Huntington’s…” and my eyes swam with
tears as they always did when I said it aloud. Evan crushed me to him again and
this time I let him. It was as if I’d been doused with a bucket of ice water.

“So you don’t want to have kids?” he asked after a time.

“No, I want to have kids, I just… I couldn’t bear going
through something like that again. My mom and dad found out about him being
sick shortly after I was born. When I was eight, my dad decided the truth would
be best, mostly because they couldn’t hide it anymore. It was an awful way to
die Evan. I couldn’t bear passing it to my child. I’d rather adopt…” I sniffed.

“Okay, okay… Shhhh…” this was a role reversal. Now it was
Evan comforting me. I wound around him and was grateful for the shelter of his
arms.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry…” he murmured into my hair.

“I’m sorry too…” I whimpered into his chest, and I was. My
dad had died when I was eighteen, Evan’s loss was still fresh. I wiped my tears
away with my fingers and leaned back.

We talked some more, mostly me about my dad until my stomach
growled. We laughed and got out of bed and Evan took me out for pancakes, and
for the first time whatever we had going on felt
normal
.

It was nice.

Evan was driving me nuts.

Sometimes in a good way, other times not… He ran so hot and
cold. After we’d gone to breakfast he’d dropped me off at home with a kiss that
was both gentle and beautiful and just what I’d needed. He promised to come by
later but then I hadn’t seen him… for three days.

I went through my work weekend on auto pilot and had finally
come to the debilitating conclusion that my status as a genetic time bomb
probably had something to do with it. It’s why I didn’t tell people about it,
or the reason why I didn’t want children as a general rule. I got one of two
reactions, either pity or this… a complete withdrawal altogether.

Either one sucked. I swallowed hard and tried to concentrate
on the textbook in my lap and couldn’t. Truth was I was hurting. Badly. I
missed Evan and it hurt. There I admitted it. It was like three steps forward
two steps back with this guy!

A knock at my door. I got up and went to it, my mouth going
dry, my eyes growing hot at the image of Evan’s bent head on the other side of
the peep hole.

“What do you want?” I called through the closed door. He
raked his hand through his lank hair and called back…

“I want to talk to you.” I chewed my lip in indecision.

“Come on London, please?” he begged and anger swelled in my
breast.

“No. Go away Evan!” I went back to my bed.

“Come on L.B.! I’m a dick! I’m sorry! I just had something I
had to go do and it took longer than I thought it would!” there was a long
silence and with a half shouted curse a hard thump. I think he kicked my door.
I closed my eyes, swallowing hard.

Finally my anger won out. I went to my door and ripped it
open.

“How much of your bullshit do you expect me to buy!?” I
demanded angrily. Evan was crouched by the railing, cigarette in his hand
curling pungent spicy smoke into the air.

“I really didn’t think it would take me that long. I
expected to be back the next day but…”

“But what Evan!? I mean honestly!” his eyes narrowed in my
direction.

“What did you think?” he asked, gaze raking over me. I stood
there hugging myself and suddenly the words dried up and blew away. I didn’t
want to tell him what I’d thought. It sounded pathetic.

“What did you think when I didn’t come back right away
L.B.?” he stood in one fluid movement and I cast my eyes to the floor.

“Shit, you thought it was you…” he said, dawning realization
in his voice, he took a step forward and I took one back.

“Was it?” I asked and winced when my voice cracked with
emotion. I both wanted and didn’t want to know.

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered and I looked up to see him, head
bowed, fisting the front of his hair.

“Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ…” he said over and
over bouncing in place.

“FUCK!” he screamed and spun, letting fist fly, he punched
the wooden trim around the alcove. I cried out in dismay and took a halfhearted
step forward. He immediately cradled his hand against his chest. His green eyes
flicked to me, gaze tempestuous.

“Jesus Christ… Look at us.” He whispered.

I fell back and hugged myself even tighter.

“What?” I asked.

“Look at us, look at me!” he repeated. “Jesus Christ L.B.
I’ve gone and dicked you over again, and idiot that I am I go and punch a wall
and there you are, trying to look after me, again! Don’t you see it!? You’re
pure fucking goodness! I don’t deserve you.” He hung his head. I sniffed.

“I thought it was because of what I told you.” I said.

“What!?” he looked at me confused.

“You know, the truth about me, about my family. They call it
a disease you know, but it’s not, it’s really not it’s more like a syndrome,
it’s not contagious it’s genetic and I – I thought you…” He closed the gap
between us in one long stride and pulled me against him. I buried my face in
his shoulder and I cried.

“Naw. You remember how I said D. and I grew up in a small
town?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I warbled piteously between sobs.

“Well I had to go there, talk to his grandparents, they
still live there.” He swallowed convulsively.

“I ended up staying longer than I thought I would. It was
good, you know?” he asked. I didn’t but I said I did anyways.

“Yeah…”

“I’m such a god damned fuck up when it comes to you,” he
breathed into my ear, “I keep asking myself why I had to meet you all turned
upside down and inside out… I wish I could keep my shit contained but it keeps
pouring all over you and fucking damn it London you deserve better than that,
better than me…” he cupped my tearstained face in his hands and tipped it back
so he could look into my face.

“I can’t help coming back to you, you know why?” he asked.

“No…”

“’Cause as fucked up as I am, the only time anything feels
all right is when I’m with you.” He crushed his mouth over my own and for
several seconds I just stood there startled by his revelation. I blinked and
slowly let the kiss consume me, swearing to myself that this was it, the last
time…

No more chances for Evan Lake, my heart wasn’t going to take
it.

Stage 5

Acceptance

Evan returned later that night with a black soft cast on his
hand. He’d had to go to the emergency room when the swelling wouldn’t come down
and it had become too painful to move his wrist. He came to my door rather than
just going up to his own apartment.

“Lock it up,” he’d ordered, “You’re staying at my place
tonight.”

I probably should have argued his heavy handedness but the
truth was, I didn’t want to, so I’d done what he’d told me to do, I locked up
my apartment and went up to his. We’d both fallen asleep pretty quickly.
Emotional exhaustion does that to a person.

Now it was late, the sky dark, the neighborhood silent. I
don’t know what woke me just that I was.

“Evan?” I asked softly.

“Yeah?” he answered immediately.

“Did you wake me?” I asked.

“Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to, couldn’t get comfortable.” He
kissed my forehead. I lay with my head on his shoulder, his good arm wrapped
around me holding me snug against him. His soft casted arm, the one with the
beautiful tattoo sleeve, rested on the futon mattress alongside him. He hadn’t
broken anything, thank God, just put a bad sprain on his wrist.

I’d thrown a leg over both of his as we’d slept and I was
suddenly very conscious of the intimate position we were in.

“I want to fuck you so bad.” He murmured and heat raced
along my veins, nerves sparked to life along my spine and my core gave a
pleasurable little throb.

“Why don’t you?” I asked breathy.

“Because you don’t deserve to be fucked, you deserve to be
worshiped. You deserve everything.” He said.

I sat up, pushing off the futon with my arm that was trapped
beneath me, smoothly sliding my leg that was already over him to where I could
straddle his lean hips. I sept my long dark hair over my shoulder and looked
down at him from my new perch. He’d stopped breathing and stared up at me with
some apprehension.

“What if I don’t want everything Evan?” I asked him quietly.

“What” he cleared his throat, “What do you want L.B.?” he
asked me.

“I just want you.” I murmured and brought my lips to his.
His hands drifted to my knees, sliding up under my nightgown to grasp my hips.
He groaned into my mouth and kissed me back and I could feel him lengthen and
thicken against my mound, his flesh growing impossibly hot through the thin
material of his boxer shorts.

“London…” he gasped.

“Evan…” I murmured back flippantly.

His long fingers gripped the bottom of my nightgown and drew
it up over my stomach I raised my arms and he stripped it off of me in one
fluid movement. He gasped and stared up at me, his green eyes colorless in the
white wash of moonlight through the window.

“God you’re beautiful.” He stated and I bent and fastened my
lips to his in a gentle kiss. His hands gathered my hair and gently held it
back from our faces as he gently rocked his hips upward into mine.

I groaned into his mouth and I think he came undone because
with a speed, strength and accuracy I didn’t know he possessed, his arms went
around me and he rolled us. Suddenly I was on my back with Evan kneeling
between my thighs. He pulled off his boxers, ad his long thick cock bobbed
between us. I wrapped gentle fingers around him and his eyes closed, head
thrown back, lips parted and a shuddering cry emitted from somewhere deep in
his chest. It was beautiful and a moment I wish I could capture on film. Raw
and honest and incredibly erotic in its simplicity.

“Please don’t stop me this time Evan…” I begged and he
looked down at me, a feral heat in his expression.

“I can’t baby. I can’t stop this time even if I wanted to.”
He took himself from my hand and guided himself to my opening. I arched beneath
him as he worked his way into my body. He held himself stiff above me and
watched as he slid into me, the look on his face one of pure bliss. I watched
his face and reached up, capturing it between my hands. He looked down at me,
eyes glazed with passion a dark desire flickering in their depths.

“God Evan kiss me.” I breathed and he bent at the elbow and
pressed his lips against mine. I devoured him, cradling his head and shoulders
sweetly against me. He broke the kiss with a cry and sat up between my legs,
thrusting forward, hooded eyes watching me, gauging my reaction. I cried out
softly and arched to meet him. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me to meet
the thrusting of his hips I covered his hands with mine and watched him watch
me.

“God London, I’ve wanted you since the moment you knelt down
beside me on that landing outside your door.” His hip movements were controlled
and deliberate, a steady build, setting my body to a slow burn. I clenched my
walls around him and he cried out.

“Evan!” I gasped and he smiled down at me. He put a hand on
my pubic bone and found my clit with the pad of his thumb. He dipped it down
and slicked some of my wetness up over the sensitive bundle of nerves. I cried
out and arched into him. He stilled inside me and tortured my clit I clenched
around him and he smiled down at me.

“That’s right baby, come apart for me.” He breathed and gave
a series of short rapid thrusts.

I dragged in a breath and unraveled beneath him with a cry,
back arching off the bed as sparks flitted to the ends of every nerve ending my
body possessed. He smiled down at me and moved his thumb from my hypersensitive
nub and began to work himself in and out of me again, establishing a pace to
meet his needs.

I moaned and fisted the sheets by my hips, my ass rising off
the bed to meet his forward momentum. He lowered over the top of me and kissed
me long and deep. I raked nails from his shoulders to the top of his ass my
breath coming in short gasps. Another orgasm was building and I was riding on
that fine razor’s edge. He kept me there for as long as he could smiling down
at the beautiful mess he was making.

“God I fucking love you!” He grunted and I fell off the edge
and plunged with an inarticulate cry into wave after warm wave of pure bliss.