Chapter 21 #2
“Grace!” More pounding. “Open the damned door. Is he in there? Did you let him in? Grace, come on . . . Open the door.” In a quieter, more urgent tone, he said, “Please.”
Worried about disturbing her neighbors, Grace unlocked the door and opened it.
Reeking of beer and something stronger, he leaned against the doorjamb.
His poor face . . . It had to be hurting something fierce by now.
His eyes traveled the length of her, pausing at the V over her breasts where the lapels of the robe came together, before moving down and then back up to her face.
All he’d done was look at her, but Grace felt like he’d stripped her naked.
“Is he here?” he asked, trying to see around her.
“Who?”
“Your new boyfriend.”
What was he talking about? “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Did that Irishman kiss you?”
“Maybe,” Grace said with a coy smile. Of course when his face fell with dismay, she immediately felt bad for being intentionally mean to him. She pointed to her cheek. “He kissed me right here.”
At that, Evan brightened considerably. “Can I come in?”
“Why do you want to?”
“This has been the worst day ever. I need a friend.”
“Are we friends?”
“Grace . . . I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left this morning. I was . . . I was confused.”
“Are you still confused?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
Her lips began to quiver. He was entirely too cute for his own good. His wounded look didn’t help to quell the brewing laughter.
“Are you going to laugh at me?” he asked.
“I’m trying not to.”
Before she could gauge his intent, he leaned forward, buried his lips in the curve of her neck and destroyed her resistance. “Can I come in?” he whispered. “Please?”
“As long as you know nothing is going to happen.”
“By nothing, do you mean—”
“Nothing.” She took his hand and led him into the room, closing the door behind them.
“Grace.” He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.
Smiling at how adorable he was, even when he was more than half drunk, she returned his embrace, stroking a comforting hand over his hair. “I’m sorry you had such a rough day.”
“It’s all your fault.”
Once again, she found herself choking back a laugh. “How is it my fault?”
“You’ve cast some sort of spell on me. That’s the only possible explanation.”
“For what?”
“For the fact that I can’t stop thinking about you. I think about you all the time. I don’t understand it.” He raised his head and met her gaze. “Tell me the truth—did you cast some sort of spell over me? Did you slip me some pharmacy thing that rebooted my computer?”
Grace shook with silent laughter.
“It’s not funny! You’re making me into a lunatic!”
“Tell me you didn’t drive here.”
“Of course I didn’t,” he said, full of indignation. “I don’t drink and drive.”
Grace led him to the bed and pushed him down. Knocking his flip-flops off his feet, she lifted his legs onto the bed and settled his head on the pillow.
“Grace . . . Come here with me.” As he held out his hand to her, his eyes fluttered closed. “Tell me what you did to me. Whatever it is, you can undo it, right?”
Grace took his hand and crawled onto the bed next to him. “I don’t think it can be undone.”
Evan moaned. “So what am I supposed to do? How am I going to stop thinking about you every second of every day?”
Grace had never been more amused—or aroused—by a conversation. “I’m sure it’ll pass in time. Just like a fever or a virus.” She smoothed the hair off his forehead, the silky strands gliding through her fingers. “Give it a few days. You’ll feel better.”
He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. “I don’t think it’s going to pass.”
They stared at each other for a long, breathless moment. Right then he could’ve asked her for the moon, and she would’ve found a way to get it for him. Remain calm, she told her racing heart. He’s not himself. Nothing he says tonight should be taken too seriously.
“My record company is bankrupt,” he murmured as his eyes closed again.
“What? Evan! What did you say?”
“It’s all gone to shit. The company’s bankrupt, and my album is caught up in it.”
“Oh God.” She pressed her lips gently to his abraded cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“Just as well.” He reached for her. “Cuz I get stage fright. Did I tell you that?”
“No, you didn’t,” she said, touched to be in on a secret that she suspected he didn’t share with just anyone. Moving closer to him, she rested her head on his chest and her hand on his belly while trying to process everything he’d said.
“Why do you let him call you Gracie?” His fingers combed through her hair rhythmically.
“Who?” Grace asked, trying to keep up with the ever-changing conversation.
“That Irish charmer. He’s trying to take you away from me.”
“I’m not with you. How can he take me away from you?”
The fingers in her hair tightened into a fist. “You are with me. You have to be with me. I can’t stop thinking about you, about what we did. Right here. Last night.”
Grace’s entire body flushed with heat at the reminder.
“It was so good, wasn’t it, Grace?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you pick me to cast your spell on?”
“Because you’re so handsome, and I love dimples. You didn’t stand a chance.”
“You did this to me,” he said, his voice starting to fade as sleep beckoned. “You have to stay with me until we can fix it.”
She wondered if he’d remember any of this in the morning.
“Grace? You gotta promise me. You’ll stay with me, won’t you? I need you.”
Her heart contracted, and the breath got caught in her lungs. If only . . . “Yes, Evan, I’ll stay with you. Tomorrow will be a better day. Don’t worry.”
“Grace,” he said on a sigh the instant before his body slackened into sleep.
Grace was awake for a long time thinking about what he’d said, watching him sleep and listening to the strong beat of his heart.