Falling In (13 page)

As busy as I’ve been keeping myself, and as content as I have been, I still find myself feeling drawn to Jake and half empty without him. I try to not think of him. I try really hard, but I’m not perfect. Still, I’m doing pretty well.

Well, I was until an hour ago.

I was lost in my own little world, shopping at
Whole Foods
, picking up produce and ingredients for my famous chicken stir-fry with soba noodles, when I heard my name. The husky voice was familiar. I cursed under my breath before turning to her.
Becky.
Really? I plaster on my fake smile and give her a small hug, trying not to choke on her cheap perfume that she must’ve bathed in.
Yes, I know I’m being catty
.
Whatever
.

“Becky, hey, how are you doing?” I ask, putting as much enthusiasm in my voice I can muster—which isn’t a whole lot. She smiles genuinely at me.
Yeah, I’m a bitch
.

“I’m great, girl! Funny we’re running into each other, I was actually gonna call you today to thank you and Cole.”

“Thank us? For what?”

Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say. Please. Please. Please
.

“For introducing me to Jake. He’s so damn sweet, and goodness, is he hot or what? What am I saying—you got that sexy Cole of yours. I doubt you’ve even looked at Jake. But let me tell you, girl, he is like Damon from
Vampire Diaries
kind of hot. Anyway, he’s taking me out tomorrow night!” she says, shrieking with joy, unaware of the fact that my breathing has intensified to an alarming pace, and my heart feels like it’s being squeezed like a lemon. Somehow I manage to reply to her declaration, though I’m pretty sure my voice sounds like it’s on autopilot.

“That’s great. Um, I’ve got to run. Lots of food to get.” Without saying goodbye, I walk past her like a zombie, heading straight for the bathroom. I set my basket down by the door and enter. I stand at the sinks, too scared to look at the mirror, worried about what I would see. I’m rubbing the skin that is covering my bruised heart, attempting to take away this awful and unwarranted feeling that is coursing through me. I take deep breath after deep breath, needing to soothe this ache. I know I told him to do this, but for some stupidly naïve reason, I didn’t think he actually
would
. I have no right to be getting this upset. I need to remember that. He did as I asked, and he’s not mine.

Jesus.

Then why do I feel like he betrayed me?
That’s insane, right?
I had more than satisfying morning sex with Cole earlier. I have no right to want to rip Becky’s bottle blonde hair out. But damn, I really want to. I smile at the image. The smile is fleeting once I remember why I’m in this bathroom. I sigh, long and depressingly.
There’s nothing I can do.
Well, there is
something
—but that something comes with actions and consequences I’m not ready to tackle now, if ever.

I finally walk out of the restroom, grab my basket, and quickly finish shopping, hoping to avoid another sighting of the whore. I thank goddess when I successively reach my Prius through the muddled thoughts at war in my head.

Driving home, I make an attempt to forget my newly acquired knowledge, listening to the Civil Wars’ cover of
Disarm
. It’s beyond haunting, almost too much so. I think I need the Smashing Pumpkins’ version.
Or maybe I just need to smash something. Repeatedly
. I can feel the anger simmering on the surface, causing my grip on the steering wheel to tighten, knuckles whitening.
I know, I know
—but I can’t help it. I can’t help what I feel.

And what I feel is straight up mother fucking pissed.

I somehow make it home without wrecking the car or flipping someone off. It was a huge feat, let me tell you. I grab the groceries from the car and briskly walk to the door, slamming it once I get inside. I move straight to the kitchen and the wine. After I haphazardly throw the food in the fridge, I grab the bottle and pour a generous amount into my glass. I take a big sip, savoring the bold yet silky taste of my favorite Cabernet Sauvignon.
Good lord, that’s good
. I take a deep breath, relishing the calmness that one drink has given me for the moment. That stupid man has turned me into a damn wino-holic!

Tomorrow night.

He’s taking her out, tomorrow night.

Fuck.

While I babysit his nephew.

Double Fuck.

Minus the babysitting job while he screws the whore, this is what I wanted. I’ve got no one to blame but myself. Of course, it still doesn’t stop me from wanting to stomp over to Jake’s, barge into his house kicking and screaming, demanding that he cancels the date and any other date he has planned. But I won’t.
I can’t
. I have nothing to offer as a replacement.

This is getting even more fucked up as the days wear on.
How has my relationship come to this?
A few weeks ago, the only thing I got mad about was constantly cleaning up pee off the bathroom floor—
seriously, is it really that hard to aim?
But now, now I’m going off the deep end because the man who isn’t
my
man is taking out and will most likely fuck another woman. And why am I so pissed, you ask?
Because I want to be that woman
.

I want to be that woman. His woman.
His.

And with that revealing thought, I practically inhale my wine. I stick the bottle back into the refrigerator and rinse out the glass, placing it back inside the cupboard to hide the evidence. I know that if I leave it out, Cole will know something is up. He knows me, knows the telltale signs of an Evie problem arising. He’s been on edge for weeks because of me. I can’t worry him any more than I already have, especially since things have been going so well lately.

I check the time, knowing that the kids will be here soon.
Shit, sooner than I thought.
I’ve got about five more minutes before I have to face him without ripping his head off, or doing something equally regrettable. Hanging onto the edge of the sink, I brace myself and take a long, deep breath before going back outside. In through the nose, out the mouth.

I can feel Jake’s presence before I even finish stepping out the door, but I don’t dare turn his way. I know his eyes are on me, though—my skin flushes of its own volition and small bumps rise on my arms.
I hate that he has that effect on me.
I stay on the front porch, willing the bus to be unusually early. It isn’t.

“Evangeline,” Jake calls out.

I ignore him, closing my eyes tightly. My breathing accelerates as I hear his footsteps coming near. He stops right in front of me.

“Evangeline.” He repeats my name, sounding apprehensive. I open my eyes and come face to face with the man of the hour. He doesn’t say anything else, just stares me down, as I do the same. Hearing the bus making its way towards us, I decide to speak.

Smiling sweetly, I say, “I ran into Becky today.”

His jaw ticks and he swallows hard before answering. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. She wanted to
thank
me. You know, for inadvertently setting you two up. It works out so nicely that you already have a babysitter lined up.”

I move away from him and walk down the stairs toward the bus. Cady and Ben are just stepping down, shoulder to shoulder, with Dyl coming out after them. I can feel Jake close behind me. My back stiffens. I reach for the kids’ hands, pulling them into my side. “Hey guys, why don’t you go inside and get a snack? Tell Ben bye, okay?”

They say their goodbyes, Cady hugging Ben before running inside with Dylan. I smile at Ben, watching him gaze at Cady with stars in his eyes. The smile vanishes when I move my eyes to Jake.

“
Evangeline
.” He says just above a whisper. His eyes are pleading with me talk to him. Hear him out.
But what’s the point?

“I’ll come and get Ben at six so you can get ready for your
date
.” I say before he has the chance to speak again.

I turn around as quickly as I can, walking away from him. I wish I could say it felt good, but that would be a lie. All I feel is loss.

***

Jake

It’s Friday afternoon and I’m standing in the kitchen, staring down at my phone with Becky’s number pulled up. I’m going to cancel. I have to cancel.

Shit.

I run my hands over my face and through my hair.
I’m fucked. I’m so fucking fucked
. Yesterday gutted me. God, this whole week has been a test of my restraint. Seeing Evangeline every morning, fresh-faced and braless, looking like a curvy, wild-haired hippie pixie and barely even acknowledging my existence made me want to shake her senseless. Snatch her up and force her to see how much I want her, how much I crave her.
Need
her.
She’s so damn stubborn
. I know she feels this, but she keeps pushing her feelings away, pushing
me
away. I get it, I do. I’m not a total inconsiderate asshole. She has
him
and their happy little family. She doesn’t want to jeopardize that, but damn—I feel like we owe it to ourselves to see what this is.

So why did I ask Becky out?

Because I’m a prideful asshole who wanted to make the woman he wants jealous. I couldn’t stand watching her parade around the party with Cole, standing so close to him that they were practically one person. Looking up at him like he was fucking Superman. Anger and bitterness washed over me like a tidal wave. Becky was there, ready and willing, so I figured, what the hell? I called her on Monday and asked her out. She was more than excited, which made me feel like a prick, because I honestly have little interest in her other than making Evangeline jealous and possibly getting laid.

Asshole. I know.

But maybe getting laid will ease some of this frustration.
Damn, I really am an asshole
. And as of yesterday, I am most likely the biggest asshole
ever
. Seeing the indifference on Evangeline’s face when she told me that she knew about the date crushed a part of my soul. I honestly didn’t think she would find out. And to make matters worse, she thinks I’m using her as a fucking babysitter so I can screw some other girl. I guess technically that is true, but it wasn’t my intention. I know I hurt her, though. She isn’t as good at masking her feelings as she thinks she is. Which makes this situation even more complicated, because I know Cole senses that something is up. I’ve been waiting for him to say something to me, but so far, nothing. Maybe he thinks he ultimately has nothing to worry about. After yesterday, he’s probably right. I’m fucking this shit up.
Badly
.

I’m about ready to call Becky when the doorbell rings. I can hear Ben’s quick footsteps trampling down the stairs. I walk around the kitchen island and down the hallway, stopping at the entrance to the living room in sight of the door being opened. Evangeline is standing there, looking like a grunge goddess. Her auburn curls are wild and untamed, and she’s wearing a white dress with a picture of Nirvana printed on it. She’s also got these badass brown motorcycle boots on. I’ve never seen anything so sexy in my life. My dick goes hard at the image before me. I inconspicuously adjust myself. She catches it, her cheeks turning pink, before returning her attention to Ben. He’s talking a mile a minute, obviously excited to have his first sleepover.

“Ben, why don’t we let Evangeline inside the house.” I say, smiling at my nephew. The change in him has fucking warmed my heart more than I thought was possible. And I owe it all to this woman and her kids.

Her kids.

That she has with another man.

And we’re back to my foul mood.

Evangeline walks inside, listening intently as Ben rambles on about how excited he is for tonight.

“Well, that’s actually why I’m here so early. I was thinking about taking Cady and Dyl to get some frozen yogurt before beginning our sleepover extravaganza. That way, your uncle will have more than enough time to get ready for his big date.” She looks at me when she says the last part, fire blazing in her eyes.

Oh yeah, she’s definitely pissed
. Better than hurt, though.
Maybe this date isn’t such a bad idea after all
.

“What do you say, Ben?” She looks back at him, wiggling her eyebrows.
Damn, she’s cute
.              

“Yes, yes, yes!” he cheers, giving her a big hug. She hugs him back tightly, causing my heart to swell and my smile to return. “Can you come upstairs and help me pack, Evie?”

“Sure, kiddo.”

Ben grabs her hand and all but drags Evangeline upstairs. I follow them and stand in the doorway, watching them gather up everything Ben thinks he needs—a sleeping bag, pajamas, and his toothbrush. Then he moves toward his stuffed bear, Fuzz. He can’t sleep without it. I learned that the hard way one night a few weeks after my sister and his dad died.