2. Evan
2
EVAN
Y ou would think those skyscraper heels of hers would make her walk slower. Instead, I had to practically run to keep up with Valentina as she left the Chinese place and crossed the street without looking back to make sure I was with her.
“Hold up!” I called out when it looked like she was entering her building without waiting for me to get through the door, which would lock automatically once it closed.
She was drunk, maybe not fall-down drunk, but just enough to slur her words. Otherwise, she didn’t miss a step, crossing the tile lobby in a distractingly short skirt and jabbing a finger against the button to call the elevator. Her phone was in her other hand, and her thumb moved over the screen like lightning.
“What’s so important this time on a Saturday night?” I asked, leaning in to check her screen. Really, I was trying to thaw the ice that had formed between us in the car. I had to do something to break through the wall she put around her.
She snatched the phone away from my view, holding it close to her chest. A nice chest, a chest it took serious self-control not to stare at on a regular basis.
Tonight, there was a nice bit of cleavage showing thanks to a low-cut shirt. Me being so much taller than her didn’t hurt either.
“None of your busi-nesss,” she retorted with a little slur at the end, tossing her rich, brown waves over her shoulder before glaring at me with familiar, sapphire blue eyes. “You might have convinced me to eat with you, but that doesn’t mean you get to read my messages.”
“Excuse me. I didn’t know you were exchanging secrets with somebody.”
“If you must know, I’m typing out a list of things I need to do for the wedding. Rose said something about wanting to move it up so she’s not too far along with the baby.” She kept typing, staring down at the phone while her shiny pink nails moved over the screen.
The baby.
Say something, you dumb fuck. But what? That was the thing. The time to say something was ten years ago. Ever since then, every hour we’d spent together pushed us a little further apart. Like two boats drifting in opposite directions. By now, she was so far away she might have been a dot on the horizon.
Sorry, I totally fucked up when you told me about the baby? Sorry it scared the shit out of me, and I was too fucking young and stupid to know what to say? Hell, who was I kidding? If somebody came to me right now, this very minute, and told me they were pregnant with my kid, I would probably shit my pants. Kids were no more part of my life plan now than they were when I was eighteen and about to start college.
There were still no answers by the time we reached one of the building’s upper floors. The doors opened to the dimly lit hallway of what used to be a warehouse but had been converted to loft apartments somewhere along the way.
As always, on entering the loft, I admired the exposed brick and the open, spacious feeling. The living room was two stories high with a metal staircase leading up to an open suite which, last I knew, Valentina used as her bedroom and home office. The first floor was composed of the living room plus an open kitchen, a small dining area with a powder room beyond it, and a corner of the floor devoted to a reading nook.
It was one thing I always liked about her. She had her wild days when we were kids, and she busted her ass building a business out of nothing, but in her downtime, she liked to curl up in an overstuffed chair and read while surrounded by houseplants. I couldn’t remember the last time I met a woman who could talk about books. The latest social media trends, sure, but not books.
“I think I’m going to go up and get changed.” She kicked off her heels, knocking a few inches off her still-tall frame. She left them where they landed and waved a hand as she climbed the stairs. “Just put the food out wherever. Help yourself to a drink if you want.”
Not exactly five-star hospitality, but I didn’t expect it. It was enough just being with her again.
The breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the living room seemed like as good of a place as any to eat, so I arranged the containers on the quartz countertop before hunting in the kitchen for sriracha and soy sauce, forks, and water for Valentina. She would need it after downing those martinis.
She wasn’t exactly being sneaky back there about gulping down anything she could get her hands on. At least, that was how it looked to me whenever I glanced her way, more often than I should have.
It hurt her earlier. She may as well have written the words on her forehead. And why not? Hell, I thought about her as soon as the word baby was mentioned. Thinking back, I couldn’t remember exactly why. People had babies all the time. I couldn’t walk down the street without sidestepping a stroller.
I had wanted to push Lucian out of the way and wrap my arms around her. Why? Maybe because she looked like somebody kicked her hard. Because it had been ten years since I saw her with the same pained strain across her beautiful face.
And, of course, I was the asshole who made her look that way the first time.
Maybe a drink wasn’t a bad idea. At the party, I had taken it pretty easy, sticking to a couple of glasses of scotch. I found a bottle in the kitchen and poured a modest amount into a glass before adding cubes from the freezer.
Valentina had changed into soft cotton shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. Incredible the way changing clothes and hair could take years off a woman’s age. Her feet were bare, her long, brown locks in a bun on top of her head by the time she padded down the stairs.
How the hell was she hotter this way than she was before? Softer, more real somehow. My mouth went dry, and I had to look away from her before she saw the yearning written across my face.
“Is this a hint?” She picked up the bottle of water I had left on the counter.
I could only handle so much sarcasm before my patience wore thin. “Yeah. Drink some damn water. Eat some food.” I shoved a paper-wrapped eggroll her way. “Grease helps too.”
“You’d think this was the first time I ever drank,” she muttered. “Besides, I didn’t have all that much. I wasn’t feeling well, and it was an excuse to get out of there.” She peeled the wax paper away from the eggroll and took a bite before adding a packet of duck sauce.
Why did she feel the need to lie? Like anybody with eyes couldn’t tell she’d been actively trying to get wasted, which wasn’t like her.
“It was pretty crowded in there,” I offered. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had known this girl since I first met Colton and Noah in high school. Almost fifteen years. Yet I couldn’t get my brain and my mouth working together. Not tonight.
It was crazy how a happy announcement could unlock a door that had been closed for a decade. “You know me. Crowded spaces aren’t a problem. They’re sort of my bread and butter.” Slapping a palm to her forehead, she pulled her phone from her sweatshirt pocket and typed furiously.
“What is it this time?” I asked, spearing a piece of spicy chicken.
“I need to make finding the venue my number one priority,” she muttered while typing. “This is going to be a real bitch.”
Offer up one of the country clubs, you idiot. But that would mean working side by side through this, and if tonight were anything to go by, that would be the last thing she’d want.
“You’ll make it work,” I predicted around a mouthful of fried rice, deciding it for the best to keep quiet. “You always do.” I wasn’t all that hungry, but the food was as good as I’d remembered.
Instinct told me not to leave her alone tonight. Not until she went to bed anyway. It was the least I could do after fucking up spectacularly back in the day.
“I guess it’s for the best.” I held the phone close to my ear, turning my back on the guys as we waited in line for breakfast in the dining hall three weeks into my first semester. “I mean, this wasn’t the right time for either of us, you know?”
Stupid asshole. She was so quiet for so long I thought she’d hung up. No, the call was still active, which meant she was there. She just didn’t want to speak to me.
“Right?” I prompted.
“Yeah. You’re right.” She sounded like a ghost—empty. How was a girl supposed to sound the morning after she had a miscarriage? “I’ll let you go. You sound busy.”
I should have left the fucking dining hall. I should have gotten in the car and driven out to her. I should’ve done a lot of things. But I was eighteen, stupid, and just found out I wasn’t going to be a father.
The shitty thing was, I ate breakfast feeling better than I had in weeks, ever since Valentina told me about the baby the weekend before I was due to move to Cambridge.
I wouldn’t know where to begin apologizing now. Would it be trite if I brought it up? It was the elephant in the room, that much was obvious. Or was I telling myself that? Was it guilt compelling me to torture myself this way?
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.” She pushed her food away after picking at it halfheartedly, still more interested in her phone. “I’m not really hungry.”
“You just hate the idea of anyone trying to take care of you.”
“Right…” she sighed, “… because you know me so well.”
I did. I might not have shown it outwardly, but I paid attention. I always had. From the day we met when Colton introduced me to his friends and family at school, there was something about her that drew me in. “ I’m Valentina Miller, and anybody with the balls to be friends with my idiot cousin is worth knowing. ” That snarky, smirking first impression was all it took for her to fascinate me.
She went through the motions of packing up what was left while I continued picking at my chicken. She may as well have been miles away with layers of barbed wire wrapped around her. Everything about her body language told me to steer clear—the hunched shoulders, tight jaw, not to mention the way she refused to look at me when I tried to catch her eye.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked when she finished cleaning up after herself.
I would’ve been safer lighting a match in a gas-filled room. She exploded in a flurry of waving hands which she then slammed onto the counter. “Why does anything have to be the matter, for fuck’s sake? Jesus Christ.”
“Jesus fuck, Valentina. Is it that time of the month or something?”
Her face bloomed red-bloody murder. “You’re the one who insisted on coming here when I didn’t want to be around people!”
“How was I supposed to know you didn’t wanna be around people?”
“Because I told you I just wanted to go home, genius.” She tapped the side of her head while giving me a dirty look before turning her back and facing the sink.
I could almost feel the heat coming off her, even with the countertop between us. Her shoulders rose and fell with each ragged breath she took. She was struggling. All I wanted was to reach out, but what good would it do? If I could find the words, what would I say that would change a damn thing? And how fucking empty would it sound after all these years?
When I thought about it, I realized I couldn’t remember a single time my father had ever apologized for anything, and he’d had more than enough reason to. It was beneath him, and like me, he had not been raised to do it.
A pathetic excuse. I knew it in my bones as I got up from my stool and rounded the counter separating the two rooms. Was I taking my life in my hands, approaching a rabid animal who might bite? Maybe. But I knew a lot of this had to do with me. There was no way it didn’t. The least I could do was try to offer what awkward comfort I could, no matter if I felt like an inept fuck approaching her from behind, laying gentle hands on her shoulders.
“You don’t have to do that,” she muttered, her head hanging low.
Was she sniffling?
“I’m…” Sorry. Just tell her you’re fucking sorry. Something closed my throat, turning it into a pinhole. My tongue was thick and useless. I would only upset her more if I drudged it all up again. Maybe that was what I needed to believe.
“You’re what?” She turned, glaring up at me with defiance flashing in her eyes. Energy crackled when they met mine like a hum of electricity that, for some reason, went straight to my dick and got it twitching. She was right here in front of me. I had never been able to resist her when she was like this. I didn’t want to back away and give her space. The fire burning in her eyes wouldn’t burn me.
And if it did… I would live with the scars.
“I’m here,” I settled on replying. “I am right here. You don’t have to be alone.”
“What if that’s what I want?” she whispered, softening under my touch. I could feel the tension draining, the muscles loosening, her resistance fading. I stepped up closer, my body brushing hers.
“What if that’s what you’re telling yourself?” I countered. “You can lie to a lot of people, but you can’t lie to me. You never could.”
“There you go again, acting like you know me.” She made a move to escape, shifting her weight like she was going to slide past me.
Not a fucking chance. I held her, growling, “Stop running, dammit.”
“Did you ever wonder why I would want to run from you?” Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, her chin trembling.
I couldn’t answer. I could only take her face in my hands the way I had so many times before. She was warm and familiar. And here, intoxicating me the way she always had. In all these damn years, she’d never been this close.
She scoffed when I didn’t answer her right away and tried to get past me again. This time, I did what instinct demanded. I leaned down to claim her soft, sweet lips.
A jolt ran through her like a current passing through her body. I knew the feeling since the first touch of her lips to mine was a rush, unlike anything I had felt in a decade. Something about her did something to me no other woman ever had. Now, that translated into a rush of searing heat surging through me that had my dick hardening and left me wondering how I had spent years without doing this without tasting or touching her.
You had to forget her.
Once the wave of surprise passed, she touched her hands to my chest. Instead of pushing me away, though, she twisted my shirt in her clenched fists. The soft grunt in the back of her throat paired with the way she melted against me, parting her lips and plunging her tongue into my mouth.
Something inside me roared in a victorious growl like I was conquering her. My hands slid into her hair, still as thick and soft as it ever was, and she whimpered, winding her arms around my neck.
I didn’t know what to touch first. It was like a starving man in front of a feast, my head spinning at all the abundance in front of me. Her ass was just as firm and ripe as I remembered. I sunk my fingers into her flesh while she moaned into my mouth, going with it when I lifted her onto the counter. She parted her legs for me, and fuck, was there anything more gratifying than that? Then she silently welcomed me in, drawing me closer, locking her legs around me so I could grind against her pussy.
“Evan…” she whispered when I touched my lips to her throat, lapping at her silky skin.
How was it so soft? Every swipe of my tongue left her gasping, clinging to me, hands pulling my shirt free from my waistband. With a grunt, I helped her, almost tearing the damn thing off. I was that hungry for her touch. I needed to feel her hands on me, all over me.
I needed to be surrounded by her. My skin sizzled, and my dick strained against the zipper as I slid my hands under her sweatshirt, lifting it over her head. This was fucking crazy, but I couldn’t stop. For years, I’d held myself back, wanting her. I didn’t realize how much until now, until everything I had missed for so long was here in my arms, grinding against me, urging me on with every soft moan and helpless whimper.
Lowering my head, I lifted one of her full tits to my mouth so I could worship it the way she deserved. “Oh, just like that,” she begged while her fingers clawed through my hair. A string of guttural moans filled the air and made my ears ring.
It was the same but different. We had both grown up, and in her case, that meant demanding what she wanted. “Suck harder,” she whispered, breathlessly. “It’s not…fuck, make it hurt. Make me feel something…” Her words transformed into a moan when I caught her taut nipple between my teeth and flicked the tip with my tongue. Her legs tightened around my hips, her hips jerking until the friction was enough to make me press against her harder, demanding.
“What do you need from me?” I whispered, teasing her nipples with my thumbs until she whined in frustration. It was beyond gratifying, like some erotic fantasy come to life, having this gorgeous, sensual creature under my control.
The wild, sexy teenager had turned into a sensual woman I couldn’t wait to claim. “Do you want my cock? Do you want me inside you?”
“Oh, God…” her head rolled from one side to the other, eyes closed, “… you’re killing me. I want…”
“Tell me.” I drove myself against her again, torturing both of us with the friction. “I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me what it is, Valentina.”
“Fuck me!” She whined, making me chuckle. I had her where I wanted her, on the edge of her control, unwilling to give in to me but without a choice.
“Good girl,” I praised, lifting her off the counter with her body still wrapped around mine.
Neither of us said a word while I carried her up the stairs, her face buried in my neck, her tongue tracing my earlobe and jaw. I could barely think or hardly breathe. I only knew what I needed, and that was the complete obliteration only she could grant. Only she ever had .
I wasn’t graceful, falling onto the bed with her once I reached it. “Take what you want,” I invited, groaning when her writhing body rubbed against my aching bulge. “Let me watch you put on a show for me.”
She straddled me, her pussy grinding against my covered cock. Her thighs were so silky, inviting my hands to move higher until they were inside her shorts and caressing her ass. She sucked in a gasp, lifting momentarily, so I could drag them down along with her panties as I discarded them both to the floor. She rolled back over my bulging cock, and I ran my fingers up her thigh to her core.
God, she was soaked, and the finger I dragged through her slit left us both groaning helplessly. “Oh, God…” she moaned out, throwing her head back as I played with her hot, slick pussy. I could’ve watched her all night, moving on top of me as I worked her into a frenzy while my dick dripped in anticipation.
She sat up all at once, lifting herself away from my throbbing length before finding my belt and unzipping my fly. I could only lie back and watch her, half in shadow, since only the downstairs lights were on. Somehow, that added to the thrill.
My hand shook with urgency as I pulled my wallet from my back pocket to take out a foil-wrapped condom.
The touch of her slim fingers around my throbbing shaft damn near wiped every conscious thought out of my mind. How could I think with pure sensation invading every aspect of my being? I could hardly breathe, and I sure as hell couldn’t think about anything but the pleasure threatening to tear my mind apart as Valentina unrolled the latex down my length.
How was it this good? How had it not been this good in years ?
I took myself in one hand and dragged my head through her hot slit. She arched, going stiff, sucking in a sharp breath at the contact against her sensitive flesh. “Ready for this?” I whispered. “Are you ready for my cock inside you?”
“Y-yes!” she stuttered as I found her entrance and pulled her down until she enveloped me. Oh, fuck, she was still perfect. Tight, hot, made for me. She cried out, arching her back and pulling the clip from her hair, letting it hang free while she slid down my shaft.
I couldn’t wait for her to adjust as I let out a guttural groan. I had waited ten fucking years, and now, with her hips in my hands, I thrust upward. It was magic, it was primal, it was something I didn’t know how I lived without.
It took no time for her to set her pace, her hair brushing my chest when she leaned down to kiss me, riding me. “Fuck, yes,” she whimpered out, grinding against my base while her head swung back and forth in abandon.
I was on fire. Her touch, those hands all over my skin, nails scraping my shoulders and chest. Her cunt tightened, greedy for my cock, threatening to milk me dry.
More than anything, it was her. Valentina. Wild, untethered, leaning down so she could whisper in my ear. “You feel so good. So good…” I thrust upward to meet her strokes, and she shivered, her moans turning to high-pitched whines. She was close, clenching around me, threatening to make me explode.
“Come for me,” I growled into her ear. “Cream on my cock.”
All at once, the tension broke, her ecstatic cries filling my ears. That was my sign to let go. When I did, it was with a roar so intense it left my head spinning. Holy fuck. She was still spasming around me by the time she lifted her hips to let me slip from her, soft sighs coming with every heaving breath she took.
After disposing of the condom in a wastebasket next to the bed, I flopped onto my back. I was wiped out but euphoric after coming harder than I had in ages. What made it better was the way she sighed beside me before curling up with her head on my shoulder. “That wasn’t bad for round one,” she murmured, and I’d be damned if my dick didn’t twitch in response.
The cold light of morning had a way of changing things.
She was fast asleep, snoring softly when I sat up, surrounded by pillows and twisted sheets we’d left behind before passing out.
What were we supposed to do now? What was I supposed to do? I was never any good at words, and she deserved something, anything. What would I say?
She slept peacefully, her bare skin glowing like a pearl in the light filtering through the curtains, her hair a chocolate brown fan across the white pillowcase. After three rounds last night, it was no wonder she was out cold. When she woke, there’d be the awkward small talk, possibly resentment.
Worse yet… regret.
But I couldn’t leave without watching her one last time, gently running the back of my hand across her warm, rosy cheek and memorizing her timeless beauty from up close.
Déjà vu is a motherfucker. Suddenly, we were eighteen again, and she had fallen asleep in my room, exhausted from too many orgasms. I found myself admiring her swollen lips and dark lashes atop the apples of her cheeks before gently wrapping a sheet around her to keep her warm.
Just as quickly, I pushed away the memories as they came flooding in and removed my hand.
She would call me a coward, and maybe I was tiptoeing downstairs to grab the rest of my clothes and clean up the cold food I’d left on the counter. The thought of leaving her a note crossed my mind, but I pushed it down. It wasn’t like we’d never see each other again.
She’d thank me for this. Making a clean break.
At least, that’s what I told myself. I needed to believe it by the time I crept out of the silent apartment, hoping she’d understand.