Chapter 10 #2
Evan didn’t answer. Instead, he stood there, staring into my eyes. The silence between us stretched. I could see the gold flecks in his eyes, the muscles ticking in his jaw, and the way his gaze kept dropping to my mouth before snapping back up to my eyes.
“I can take care of myself, Evan,” I said, my voice low.
“I don’t need you to warn me about men with supposed ulterior motives.
I have a lot of experience with that, and if I decide to go out with Tate, that is my business, not yours.
It’s not like I am dating anyone right now, anyway.
So, please stop pretending like you care, because from my side of things, I know you don’t. ”
“Bianca…”
“Evan, if you don’t mind, I have paperwork I need to finish before the upcoming sessions,” I said, moving away from him and heading to my office, never so happy to hear the click of the door shutting.
I sat down at my desk and stared at my computer screen.
My hands were still trembling from the way Evan had looked at me and from the intensity of his voice when he admitted he was trying to protect me.
I could see in him the jealousy, the possessiveness, the want I knew he’d never admit to.
I could also still see the anger in him every time he looked at me.
Although, as I sat there, I couldn’t get rid of the fact he’d seen in Tate what I was terrified of repeating.
That Tate was after something. What if Evan was right?
What if I were still that naive girl, the one Tyler used because I’d been too desperate to see the warning signs?
I took a minute and took a deep breath, pressing my palms flat against my desk.
I was not that girl anymore. I’d learned, grown, and I was more careful and guarded.
Only I couldn’t shake the look in Evan’s eyes or his warning, and what scared me more than anything was that no matter how horribly Evan treated me, I felt safe with him. His possessiveness and jealousy made my heart race in a way no other man had.
I’d gotten home late Tuesday night and stood in the doorway to the living room with a container of pasta from a little Italian restaurant around the corner from the Lair to find Evan lying on the couch watching TV.
“Oh no, absolutely not,” I demanded.
My scheduled television time was on Tuesday nights. It was something we’d agreed upon a month after I’d moved in. Normally, Evan was at practice, which was why I’d chosen tonight, but they’d moved tonight’s practice to today to give the guys time to rest up for the game tomorrow.
“There’s a game on,” Evan said flatly.
“Evan, I’m certain there is always a game on; however, you’ve probably been watching hockey for three hours and monopolizing the television.”
“Uh-huh, and now I am watching the Boston Enforcers game against the Vancouver Dominators.”
“Oh my god, they aren’t even your teams. If it were the LA Legends fine but—”
“So? Your point?”
I looked at him, lounging on the couch in his gray sweatpants, which I felt should have been outlawed in our shared space, and frowned.
“Evan, it’s eight PM. I’ve had a long day, and I’d just like to eat my food and watch one episode of my show—”
“Get a TV for your room then.”
My jaw dropped. “Are you serious? Why don’t you get one for yours then? It’s your place.”
“Main TV, main room, common area. I was here first, Bianca, and it is my place.”
I was certain he didn’t care, but he sounded like a two-year-old.
“You are unbelievable. What are you? Two?”
I studied him, looking at him lying there, and then noticed the remote lying on his lap. I placed my food down on the table and then lunged forward, attempting to grab it from him, only instead I fell onto his lap, crashing into him as he shoved the remote into his pants.
“Callahan!” I screamed, taking in the scent of his cologne.
I felt his free arm wrap around me, holding me tight.
“Alan,” he mimicked, looking at me but not letting me go.
I shifted, slipping off the couch but still staying at his side. I could feel his large hand resting on my lower back, my face only inches from his.
“Give me…the remote,” I said, my voice low.
“No, you want it, go get it.”
“One episode. Thirty minutes,” I gritted, ignoring him.
“There are twelve minutes left in this period—”
“I don’t care about the period, Evan.”
I still sat there, his arm wrapped around me. I hadn’t pulled away, but then neither had he.
“Bianca, that’s disappointing. You work with hockey players. You really should appreciate—”
“I appreciate hockey when I am working. When I am home and wanting to relax, I want to watch people fall in love in a small-town bakery.”
Evan looked at me with mock disgust on his face.
“Bianca, that sounds terrible. What do they do? Fall in love while talking about the buttery flakiness of a croissant?”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, well, my show may be terrible, but your face is worse.”
Evan let out a laugh. “What an insult.”
“Did you just—”
“Nope.”
“You laughed. Evan Callahan laughed at something,” I said.
“No, I didn’t. It was a cough.”
“You were actually laughing at my stupid comeback,” I said, smiling, now laughing with him.
Evan looked at me, a small smile on his lips. “I love hearing you laugh,” he whispered. “I’ve missed it.”
“Well then, I suggest you give me the remote, or you’ll never hear it again.”
“Never hearing you laugh would be a tragedy,” he whispered, his thumb moving against my back.
Our eyes locked, and we sat there in silence until cheers erupted from the TV, causing us both to startle apart.
“Period’s over,” I said quietly.
He studied my eyes, then reached into his pants and handed me the remote.
“Thirty-minutes,” he whispered.
“Thanks, I will make it worth your while.”
As the words slipped from my lips, I noticed the look on his face and realized just how that sounded, but he got up, left the room, and allowed me my thirty minutes with my show.
I stood in the kitchen at eleven at night, staring at the kitchen cupboards I’d just finished reorganizing, when Evan walked through the door.
I’d worked until seven and came in to make dinner, frustration hitting as I realized just how unorganized his kitchen was and how much it had been bothering me.
I hadn’t intended for my reorganization to take over the entire kitchen, but moving one thing somehow led to moving another, and I ended up moving everything before I realized it.
“What the hell did you do?” he barked, looking up at the cupboards.
I looked over at him. “What?”
“My kitchen,” he said. “Where are my protein containers?”
“Bottom cabinet, left side, by the fridge. Much more logical to have them next to the blender.”
“They were fine where they were.”
“They were on the top shelf across the kitchen,” I said. “This makes much more sense.”
“To you, maybe,” he said, slamming one of the cabinet doors shut way harder than necessary as he made his way to the cupboard where I’d put his protein. “This is my apartment, Alan. You don’t just move in somewhere temporarily and rearrange their space.”
“I’ve been living here a while now, and I noticed you didn’t have an organizational system. I was trying to help.”
“My system was perfect. I know where everything is. Well, knew…” He opened the pantry and looked inside. “Jesus, what have you done? Are those labels?” he said, bringing down one container labeled crackers.
“Yes, and you are welcome,” I said, closing the door to one cupboard, satisfied with what I’d done.
“I didn’t ask for this and you can’t just—”
“Can’t just what? Make things functional? You had spices in three different locations, Evan. Three! I couldn’t find the pepper, and my dinner almost burned when I went to find the granulated garlic.”
Evan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew where they were.”
“Well, maybe you knew, but I found your system to be chaotic, and chaos isn’t a system,” I said, stepping closer to him.
He looked down into my eyes. “Everything was where I needed it. Where I could reach for it without thinking,” he said, his voice dropping.
“I was only trying to help.”
“I told you, I don’t need help. I need things to stay where I put them.”
I looked up into his eyes, pressed my forefinger against his chest. “Control freak,” I muttered.
“Meddler.”
“Oh, and your coffee mugs are now right above the coffeemaker. Makes better sense than having them in three random cabinets. Learn the new system, Callahan, unless, of course, you are too stubborn.”
“I’m not stubborn.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”
I stood there staring up at him, waiting for him to step back, to give us some distance, but he didn’t move. Instead, he leaned in. “If I am so stubborn, then you should know that I’ll just rearrange it back when I get the chance.”
“Do whatever you’d like,” I said, grabbing my water bottle and making my way to my room.
“What did you do with my heating pad?” I heard him ask.
“Top drawer under the microwave,” I called. “Ice pack’s in the freezer.”
Evan was still asleep when I’d woken the next morning.
After his outburst last night over my reorganizing the kitchen, I was happy he was still asleep.
I tip-toed into the kitchen, wearing my shorts and tank top that he’d deemed inappropriate for the shared areas of the condo, determined to make myself a cup of coffee so I could have it in the bathroom while I got ready for work.
I placed the heating pad back into the drawer and the ice pack into the freezer from where he’d left them on the counter and then dumped some coffee grounds into the new coffeemaker Evan had bought a couple of weeks ago and was just about to hit the power button when I heard something behind me.
“What are you doing?” he grumbled, his voice still gravely from sleeping.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Evan standing there, his hair still wet from his shower, dripping down onto his bare shoulders. “Where is my heating pad?”