Chapter 16 Evan
EVAN
When Nate’s mom came into the waiting room, she saw me and walked back out again. That was about twenty minutes ago.
I watch the window to see if I can catch Nate coming out. The nurse said he was okay, but she wouldn’t give me any other information. Nate’s mom and stepdad sure as shit aren’t going to tell me anything.
The door opens and that guy in a fancy-ass suit comes in again. I recognized him the second I saw him from the pictures in Nate’s house. He doesn’t look as polished in real life.
I stand, waiting for him to punch me or something. Then I remember guys like that don’t like to get their hands dirty. Maybe he’ll try to buy me off or threaten my family or something. I square my shoulders.
“Stand down, son,” he says.
I do as he says, instinctually, and a second later I realize why. He reminds me of those guys I’d let fuck me. Fresh shame fills me and I can barely look him in the eye.
Taking the seat opposite mine, he clasps his hands together between his legs. He wears a simple gold wedding band. The flash of a shiny watch is visible just under his cuff.
“Nathan told me what happened.”
I take in a deep breath, not trusting myself to speak.
“He’s very concerned about you. Personally, I would prefer it if he had nothing to do with you ever again.”
“Is he okay?”
“He has a broken wrist. His tennis season is over. Maybe his college career.”
Shit. Fuck.
“But you’ll still pay his tuition, right?”
A bitter smirk twists his lips.
“Yes, I’ll pay his tuition. I would add the condition that he never see you again.”
My stomach drops, but it’s nothing I wouldn’t deserve.
“Except I know he’d throw it all away for you and I don’t want that.”
I frown. “Nate wouldn’t throw his future away. He’s not stupid.”
“He’s not stupid. But he is in love.”
My face flushes, everything in me warming up. “How do you know that?”
He shrugs. “Because he told me.”
It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. I can’t let Nate throw everything away for me. I stand, my body aching from the fight.
“Listen, you don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna bother him anymore. I knew I’d ruin his life and now I have. I just wanted to make sure he was okay, now I know he is-”
“Sit down, Evan.”
I take a deep breath and do as he says.
“People told me not to marry Pamela, but I did anyway. You know why?”
“Because you’re a rich guy and you can do whatever the fuck you want?”
He laughs. “No. I can’t do ‘whatever the fuck I want’ because I have people relying on me.
I have children of my own who are older but who will always be my responsibility.
I have a business, employees, I have a wife, and Nathan.
…” he runs his fingers through his hair.
I wonder if he always has this much scruff on his chin.
Was he really worried about Nate? Was all that shit Nate said about him being an asshole just bullshit?
Does Nate really want this guy’s approval?
“I married her because I love her, and while people’s concern was understandable, I know Pamela, and I trusted that she had my best interests at heart, despite what everyone said.
” He fixes me with an unwavering stare and I’m wondering about the point of this story.
What’s he expecting me to say? “Do you have Nathan’s best interest at heart? ”
“Yes.” One hundred percent.
He nods, looking down at his hands. “You should go in and talk to him when he comes out from getting his cast.”
“What about-”
He holds a hand up. “I’ll talk to his mother.”
He gets up. “By the way, I know I owe you a debt.”
“What?”
“It was cutthroat of me to blame Nathan’s little indiscretion on you.”
I blink. Indiscretion? Is he talking about Nate wrapping a fucking car around a tree?
“I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me take care of the bill here.”
Bill? Oh. “Fuck, no.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s Nathan’s wishes.”
“I have insurance.”
“I’m sure you do, but we both know it doesn’t cover everything.”
“I didn’t even fucking need an ambulance,” I mutter.
Bryce laughs again. “I know you’re tough and independent, but I’m paying your bill. It’s the least I can do.”
He leaves before I can argue.
I poke my head around the door when I know Nate’s been back for a while.
“Can I come in?”
He nods, not saying anything. He looks so fucking small and fragile in that bed. His cast on top of the sheets, weighing his arm down.
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”
The baby just slips out. It kills me how much he lights up at it.
“Come here,” he says with a soft smile. He’s probably out of his mind on painkillers right now. But that smile—it kills me.
I sit down and he reaches his cast out because it’s the closest arm.
“Stupid.” I curse myself and shake my head, moving to the other side of the bed so he can reach me. “I just had an interesting talk with your dad.”
“He’s not my dad.”
“Yeah, he is, Nate. He cares about you.”
He drops his gaze to his cast. “What did he say?”
“He’d rather I didn’t see you anymore.”
“He can’t-” he tries to shoot up off the bed and I press my hand gently against his chest.
“Calm down. He said he’d rather. But he knows how stubborn you are and that there's nothing he can do to stop you.”
He relaxes a little. “Oh.”
“He said you’re in love with me.”
He bites his lip. “I thought that was obvious.”
“Look what happened to you because of me.”
“It wasn’t because of you.”
“It was. You’d never have run into those guys if it wasn’t for me. I brought them into your life.”
“And I bailed on you when you needed me most. If I’d been around, maybe you wouldn’t have needed them. Maybe things would be different.”
I shake my head. “Maybe. I still fucked things up for you.”
“Stop it, you didn’t. Bryce says you should give those guys up to the police. He says-”
“I’m not gonna do that.”
“Why not?”
I loosen my grip on his hand. “Because, that’s not how things work. You should know that.”
“What?” He sits up, pulling his hand free. “Are you telling me you’re going to still be friends with them?”
“They’ve never been my friends. Just people who help me move shit. I need the money.”
“Evan, you can’t seriously-”
I stand up. “We’re up to our eyeballs in debt, Nate. We’re fucking drowning and it’s up to me to keep us afloat.”
“I can help, I can-”
“No. Your stepdad already paid my fucking hospital bill when you’re the one who got hurt trying to protect me. I won’t let that happen again.”
“Evan.”
“Just … rest, Nate. Get better.”
“Where are you going?”
“I just need to … I don’t know.”
He looks so disappointed. But looking at him lying there, I’m thinking about his stepdad grilling me in the waiting room, asking me about my intentions, telling me Nate’s fucking in love with me.
I’m not good enough for him. I’ve let him go before.
After the initial sting last time, he let me go pretty easily. I’m sure he can do it again.
Nathan
It was so hard to stop myself from shaking while I laid in bed last night. My wrist throbbed under the cast. I kept forgetting about it, trying to turn over before realizing I had a cast on. I tried not to catastrophize, but it was hard not to.
Evan was right about how ignorant I am. I didn’t even consider the possibility of what happened last night, not even after Evan came home that night with a bruise under his eye and a swollen nose.
My stomach roils at the memory of those guys jumping him. Standing there like an idiot, not knowing what to do, how to help him.
The way they snarled at the thought of him having a boyfriend. No wonder he’s so hung up on how he feels about men.
I want more than ever to protect him, but I can’t just wave a magic wand and fix everything for him. I know that now.
After spending the night at my mom and Bryce’s house, I head back to the frat to face the music. Mom tried to get me to stay another day, but Bryce told her I needed to own up to my responsibilities.
“He’s capable, Pamela, let him go and be a man.”
I’m not sure if that was supposed to make me feel kind of proud, but it did.
It’s not easy to let myself in with the key with only one working hand. I have the use of my fingers, but with the cast covering most of my hand as well as my wrist, it’s still tricky trying to do things that used to be automatic.
I’m still struggling with the door when someone opens it on the other side. I stumble forward.
“Nathan, where have-” Priestley cuts himself off when he sees my wrist. “Please tell me you don’t have a cast on your arm right now.”
“Um … I don’t have a cast on my arm?”
“What the hell happened?”
Ben and a few of the other guys come out from the kitchen, hearing the raised voices and someone trying to get into the house.
“Shit, man, what happened to you?” Archer asks.
Before Priestley can call me out, I tell them the truth. “I got jumped.”
Ben is at my side in another second, the others following closely behind. I’m bombarded with questions. Who was it? Did you get a good look at them? Did they take anything valuable? Did you call the police? What are they doing about it?
“Let him sit down,” Priestley orders. Everyone does as he says and he leads me into the main room where we usually watch movies. I take a seat on the end of the big leather sectional and everyone gathers around me.
“I don’t know who it was. I gave a description to the police. There were other witnesses, so we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Priestley asks the question I’d been dreading. “Where did this happen?”
“Yeah, was it on campus?” Miles asks.
“No, I was … visiting a friend. In a different neighborhood.”
“A sketchy neighborhood?” Priestley probes.
I instantly get my back up. “No, not a sketchy neighborhood. Actually, it’s the neighborhood I used to live in.”
“What were you doing there?”
“I just told you, I was visiting a friend.”
Priestley throws a pointed glance at my wrist.
“So, I’m guessing this spells the end to your season,” he says finally.
I swallow a lump in my throat. “Yeah, probably.”
Everyone looks away. I have to bite the inside of my lip as a lump forms in my throat and the back of my eyes start to burn.
The guys all get ready to head out to classes, bringing their racket bags to head straight to the match later.
I grab my books and laptop, fumbling only a little as I put them in my backpack.
There’s no point of my grabbing my racket bag, which I stare at with regret on my way out of my bedroom door.
Ben pats me on the back as we head to our business class.
“I’m sorry. Nate. This must really suck. Is Evan okay?”
I smile at him, so fucking grateful he asked. “Yeah, I think so.”
“I can drive you where you need to go until your wrist heals.”
“Thank you, that would actually be really helpful.”
He shrugs. “Any time. That’s what friends are for, right?”
I nod as I take our seats in class. Making a mental note to set Ben up with the most awesome guy on the planet if it’s the last thing I do.
Thank God I have my laptop to make notes, because my handwriting is a mess when I try to write with my left hand. After class, Ben asks me where I want to go.
“Shall I take you back to the house?”
“No way, I wanna watch you guys kick Cornell’s butts.”
His face lights up. “Are you sure?”
“Yep. Anyway, I’m going to need to talk to Coach Sanchez, obviously.”
“Just remember, none of this is your fault. Okay?”
While I watch my teammates play their matches from the stands, there’s a lot of disappointment that I’m not out there with them, yeah.
But there’s something much stronger that I can’t ignore, taking over everything else.
And that’s Evan. Evan feeling the weight of taking care of his family.
Feeling like he isn’t capable. Like he doesn’t deserve to be happy, too.
I wish I could show him how much he does deserve it.
How all his mom and Stacie want is for him to be happy. To live his life.
After talking to Coach Sanchez and watching my own disappointment that my season is over mirrored on his face, I realize that this heavy feeling in my heart is nothing compared to how I feel about Evan.
This was not his fault. And yes, if I’d have stayed away like he’d warned me, I wouldn’t be sitting out an important match and looking at a premature end to my season.
But I wouldn’t have had everything that we’ve had over the past few weeks, either.
I still wouldn’t know that Evan had felt the same way about me all along.
That my feelings for him weren’t unrequited.
And now I’ve had a taste of what it can be like with him, I don’t want to ever let that go.
I watch the match, one eye on the scoreboard and one on my phone, praying Evan will return my calls, a text, anything. But there’s nothing.
Ben and Priestley win the doubles point together, wiping the floor with Cornell’s best doubles paring.
Priestley wins his singles match and Ben narrowly misses out on the W after battling it out with one of Cornell’s best players.
The other guys all crash out, too, and the team ends up losing the match.
I commiserate with them back at the house. Ben asking how my meeting with Coach Sanchez went. He’s always so concerned about everyone else. I need to help him see that he deserves to think of himself for a change, too.
“You’ll get them next time, guys.”
“Nathan’s right. We need to be sharp for Columbia next weekend,” Priestley jumps in.
That’s not what I said, but okay.
Priestley turns to me. “Have the doctors said when your wrist will be healed?”
“Probably not until after regionals,” I tell him.
“That’s a shame, Nathan. I would have liked to play a few last doubles matches with you before I graduate this summer.”
I blink, waiting for a criticism that doesn’t seem to be coming. Does Priestley Rosenthal actually like me? He sure doesn’t act like it sometimes. But then, neither does Bryce—and he cut a vacation to the Bahamas short to make sure I was okay.
“Me, too.”
He slaps my good hand and I excuse myself to go up to my room to be alone.
I try calling Evan again, but he doesn’t pick up. I remind myself that he expects me to give up. This time, I won’t.