Chapter 12
She managesto fall asleep against me; I don’t know how.
I watch her breathe softly and evenly while the sounds of chaos batter at the door. She’s beautiful when she sleeps. She’s beautiful when she’s awake too. When she’s happy, when she’s furious. When the words are stunned from her mouth. Even in the midst of that insanity I’d still found myself blinking and stupid whenever my gaze had trained on her.
God, what am I going to do about this woman? I’m not used to this. It’s not me. But dammit, some part of me wants it to be.
There are simpler problems to dwell on though, and I choose those over this riddle in powder-blue sweatpants sleeping beside me.
Not Jack, of course. There’s nothing easy about that situation. I’m proving time and again that I can’t make a single right move when it comes to that boy.
Not the Seafarer either. Its status has never been more precarious. I’d woken up this morning to an email containing barely disguised panic from one of my major investors. I could do little more than tell him to trust me. And not to believe anything he might read in the tabloids that suggests I’ve become a roadie for a DJ a decade younger than me.
No, it’s Brent who my thoughts turn to with twisted, evil delight. I fantasize about scattering those white teeth across the ground. About driving my foot into his side. I picture my fist smashing into that perfectly straight nose. I’ll bet it’s never been broken before. I’ll bet he’s never even taken a punch.
It’s primal and brutal, and it feels a little too nice.
I’m not a violent man. What happened on St. Mark’s was my first fight in years. But growing up where I did, a guy who couldn’t use his fists got the snot kicked out of him. I learned early that while violence might not be the answer it did keep bullies from asking any more questions.
The moment I laid eyes on Brent I knew I hated him. Actually, from the first time Evie mentioned that somebody out there was fucking stupid enough to leave her behind, I despised the bastard. Because I can’t have her, and I’m furiously jealous of the man who could and still threw her aside.
But what really says Evie and I couldn’t work other than my own self-imposed rules? I’ve always scorned domestic bliss, pitied fools in middle management driving out to the suburbs every day. But now, sitting here with Evie, I’m shocked to find my thoughts drifting to images of a normal life. Waking up on a Saturday morning in bed. A grill and a big window overlooking a yard. A yard where children could play…
I shake myself, want to slap my own cheek to jerk me back to reality. I resist the urge but barely. What the hell am I thinking? Children? With everything going down with Jack, it should be pretty damn clear that I’m not capable of raising a plant, let alone a person.
Unable to help myself, my thoughts reluctantly turn to my brother. He’d filled out a slew of applications yesterday and had seemed almost excited to tell me about the interviews he had lined up Monday. Things had been going well until this morning when he asked me why I was packing a suitcase.
“Work trip. Came up last minute,” I’d said.
His face had frozen, the brightness in his eyes dying in an instant. “What about visiting Dad today?” he’d asked.
Things had gone south from there.
The truth was that I really had forgotten. But even upon remembering I hadn’t exactly been devastated to miss out on it. Still, I told him I would go, just another time. It hadn’t helped. Reminding him that it isn’t like Dad is going anywhere had also been a bad move.
A big fight wasn’t what I needed right before a stressful trip. I didn’t need any more reminders of my failures. But Jack seemed intent on dragging things out, to the point where he’d followed me downstairs and aired our laundry to half the people in my building and, more importantly, Evie.
I’d acted childishly in the car, but it was from deep embarrassment, not anger. How many times had Dad fought publicly? Loudly in our apartment, right at the bar in front of customers, on the street any time he thought someone might be disrespecting him. And now Jack and I are continuing his legacy, and Evie can see just how broken and messed up my family really is.
I sigh and rub my eyes. At least we had Brent to unite us again. It was awful knowing she was so mad at me. Usually my scornful personality acts as my armor against the world; this is the first time I’ve ever felt resentful of it.
My eyes trail again down Evie’s face. I smell the sweet scent of her hair. If I don’t get a hold of myself soon, she’s going to break my goddamn heart.
There’s a scrambling behind the wall that our closet shares with the bedroom and then voices giving directions. The music video is moving in. I can hear Kara and Dalton directly outside our door. Their voices are too muffled to hear exactly what they’re saying, but it’s probably about us. It’s for the best I can’t hear them. I can’t imagine the two of us sleeping in a closet is going to impress Kara much.
A problem for later. The increased noise overwhelms Evie’s exhaustion. She stirs against me and then sits up, blinking and stretching.
“Oh my god,” she says blearily. “Did I actually fall asleep?”
“Somehow,” I say. “It sounds like they’re coming through the walls.”
Evie covers her eyes with a hand and laughs. “We are just not built for this, are we?”
“Not at all,” I say. “I’m not a good time.”
She shifts so that she’s leaning against the wall. We’re shoulder to shoulder now and she’s able to look me in the eyes. “I don’t know about that,” she says. “I somehow manage to put up with you.”
“Again, no clue how.” I let out a grumbly chuckle. “I’m not exactly known for my sunny personality.”
“You have your moments,” she says.
My eyes flick down to her lips. They’re so close, so inviting. But we agreed on that park bench. This isn’t good for either of us. Somehow I force my eyes back to hers. It doesn’t help much; the serenity in them just makes me want her more.
“I hate to bring up your ex,” I say. “But I need to know more about this ski pole incident.”
“Noooo!” she cries. She buries her head in her hands. “It’s so embarrassing.”
“You sound like a hero to me,” I say.
She uncovers her face, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “You have a very broad definition of hero then.”
“Maybe,” I reply. “But come on. I need details. Did he run and hide?”
“I’m glad he didn’t,” she says. “In the state I was in, I probably would have given chase. Thankfully I realized I needed to get out of there before I put the other pole through one of them.” She bites her lip. “So I guess I was the one who ran.”
“You did the smart thing,” I say. When she doesn’t answer, looking instead at the carpet, deep in the memory of the worst day of her life, I use a finger to turn her chin up so that she’s looking at me. “Hey. If it makes you feel better, we can lure the two of them to the top of the Eiffel Tower and push them off.”
She rolls her eyes and bats me away. “Be serious,” she says.
“Oh I’m completely serious,” I say. “Come on. We can dodge the cops for a week. Once we’re back in New York, we’re in the clear.”
“I think the US extradites to France, Nick.”
I twist my mouth. “Oh yeah, you’re probably right. Well then I guess we’ll have to hightail it somewhere else that doesn’t. How’s North Korea sound?”
“Bad,” she says.
“Saudi Arabia?”
“Not much better.”
I snap my fingers. “Vietnam. I doubt there’s much love lost for the French there.”
She grins. “That does sound promising. The beaches look amazing.”
“The question is how we’ll get there though.”
“Duh, you have a giant ass ship we can take!”
“Oh god, I can just picture the Coast Guard in hot pursuit.”
“It’ll be like the OJ car chase meets Speed 2.”
The visual is hilarious and I burst out laughing. She joins me and we laugh together until we’re both wheezing.
“It’s a beautiful dream,” she says at last. “But I think Brent and Cheryl will have to survive this trip.”
“Your wish is my command,” I say. “But let me know if you change your mind.”
Evie rests her head back against my shoulder. “Don’t try me,” she says. “I’ve barely convinced myself.”
Before long I feel her soft and steady breaths once again, and beyond all reason I drift off too. We stay asleep until the wheels touch down in Paris and jolt us out of our rest.
If I had the choice I would have happily spent the next two weeks locked away in this cozy little room. But we have a job to do. Our private bliss is over.
Now we have to rejoin the world.
Between the timechange and the unrelenting city traffic, by the time we reach the hotel it’s almost 11 o’clock.
Even though Evie and I take a private car, we arrive pretty much exactly when Kara’s limo pulls up. It’s bad timing. I can’t think of a group of people I want to see less right now. An image of Jack and my father pop into my head, and I hastily discard it. The old man might be in prison but I’ve long since learned it’s not wise to tempt fate.
Kara and Dax get out of the car, followed shortly by Dalton and a smaller collection of VIPs which includes the girl with the rose tattoo who’d spoken to us on the plane.
“We should go say hi,” Evie says.
Though we’re far enough down that we might be able to get away with sneaking inside, I reluctantly nod.
We’re halfway there when Brent and Cheryl get out of the limo and join the gaggle of groupies. Fuck. So much for my last-ditch hope that maybe they wouldn’t be tied to Kara for the rest of the trip. Most of the people on the plane had moved on to cheaper hotels than the Four Seasons, but it appears that with these assholes we won’t be so lucky.
I feel Evie tense beside me at the sight of them, and without thinking I slip my hand into hers. I squeeze it lightly before letting it go just as quickly. It’s innocent, I tell myself. A reminder that I’ve got her back. Nothing more.
While the entourage smokes on the curb, Kara is off to the side, speaking to Dalton in hushed tones. He’s typing something on his phone rapidly as she speaks, nodding along. He pauses when he notices us approach.
Kara glances sharply at him, wondering why he’s stopped typing and then follows his gaze to us. You’d have to be an idiot to misread the look on her face. She’s not happy.
“I hope your music video was a success,” I say.
Kara crosses her arms. “It was okay,” she says. “Did you really sit in the closet the entire ride?”
Someone snorts loudly behind us. I’m pretty sure it’s Brent. I manage to keep my voice neutral.
“Unfortunately as fun as it all sounded, I think I’d put my lawyers in an early grave if I so much as appeared in profile in your video.”
“And why’s that?” Kara challenges.
“It might concern the shareholders,” I say mildly.
Kara’s mouth quirks and she studies me intently. Finally she says, “You pull that card a lot?”
Yes, I do, but I don’t admit to it. I just smile.
“Well we weren’t shooting the entire time,” she says. “You could have been out there for some of it.”
“Is that so?” I ask. “Well then it’s a shame we missed it.”
“There will be other parties.”
“And we’ll be there.”
Her gaze is cool. “I hope so. I’d hate for this arrangement to be a waste of both of our time.” She gives a brief nod to Evie and then without another word she heads up the stairs and into the Four Seasons’ opulent entry hall.
Dalton is left with us and he just shakes his head. “You two are going to fuck this up,” he says like it’s a foregone conclusion.
“We won’t,” I say firmly. “We just need to find our bearing.”
“You better find it quick,” he says. “You’re lucky you had a decent excuse. Kara was pissed you two were hiding out. And don’t think she didn’t find out about all that drama you got going on with Dax’s agent. She’s not thrilled about that either.”
“Drama?” Evie repeats. “Seems a bit of a trivial description of the situation, don’t you think?”
“Just figure it out, okay?” Dalton says. He checks the time and then follows after Kara, mumbling under his breath about how this shit is going to put him in an early grave.
Evie turns to me. I just shrug. “This is why I hate working with celebrities,” I say.
“I’m starting to get it,” she says.
The rest of the entourage wafts past us, following their leader. Unfortunately Brent and Cheryl, riding the high of our apparent fall from grace in the eyes of Kara, don’t pass without throwing in a word.
“So the closet, huh? How was the view from in there?” Brent says.
“I could spend every moment of the rest of my life handcuffed to a sentient pile of horse shit, and I’d still prefer that view to being married to you,” Evie explodes.
The insult does nothing to ruffle their preening. The two hang off each other, looking like an Abercrombie centerfold, utterly content with their choices in life. Well fuck ‘em. They deserve each other. If only Evie could see that.
“You say that,” Cheryl says, “but I seem to remember a pretty enthusiastic ‘yes’ when Brent got down on one knee.”
I’m ready for Evie’s snarky comeback but it doesn’t come. To my horror, she just looks tired and upset. Sensing they’ve gained the upper hand, Brent and Cheryl stride away after the rest of the group, laughing to each other, before we can take it back.
“Room?” I ask Evie gently.
She nods once but then hesitates. “I don’t want to wait behind them in line,” she says.
“We have options,” I say.
“Oh yeah?” She still isn’t looking at me and sounds utterly miserable.
“Yeah. When was the last time you were in Paris?” I ask her.
Her eyes finally meet mine. “High school French trip,” she admits. “You?”
“I’ve been a couple times for work but never for pleasure.”
She snorts. “You call this pleasure?”
“It’s been shifting moment to moment,” I say. “But in this one? Absolutely.”
A current snaps in the air between us, a surging of the heart and a prickling of the skin. I know she feels it too; I can practically see the goosebumps. She rubs her arms despite the late spring warmth.
“It could take them a while,” I say. I jerk my head down the empty street. “I think the Seine is just south of here. Want to check it out?”
“I’d…” Evie looks up at the hotel, then back down the street. Our intimacy in the plane closet strained the bounds of appropriate workplace decorum. Midnight walks down the starry streets of Paris very well might burst the dam, sending all our barely suppressed desires cascading over us, washing us away to parts unknown.
Parts that could be very, very pleasurable.
Evie wavers until I say, softly, “It’s just a walk.”
It’s a lie. We both know it. But Evie accepts it as truth and nods her head. “Just a couple blocks,” she agrees.
“Just until we know they aren’t in the lobby.”
The dark streets bring me back to two nights ago, when Evie and I had walked through the East Village. Has it only been forty-eight hours since then? It’s felt like two years, a lifetime. With every moment that passes, I’m falling for her a little more, a little further. Soon I might tumble over the edge.
We don’t hold hands. We don’t even talk. I can only guess what’s racing through her mind, but I hope it’s close to my own thoughts. A taut anticipation has started in my toes and is crawling steadily higher.
The Seine isn’t far, really only a few blocks away. Evie squeaks with excitement when it appears at the end of the street and immediately starts walking quickly toward it. I trail only slightly behind her, watching her move, the curve of her ass in those damn blue sweatpants. God, this girl…
Across the street, at the railing, the view is magnificent. Dark water stretches in both directions and just across it shines the Eiffel Tower in all its iconic glory.
Evie leans on the railing and looks up at it in wonder. She turns just as I reach her, eyes bright.
“Nick…” she starts.
Before she can say another word I’m kissing her. Her breath hitches but she falls against me. Her lips are perfect, her tongue sweet. The smell of her is being injected into my veins. Her body pulsing against mine is finally satisfying that agonizing want that’s dogged me since the train.
I press her against the railing and let myself go. My self-control is gone, left behind somewhere in New York. I hardly recognize this wild, hungry man who’s taken over my body but he feels powerful, more powerful than I ever thought it was possible to feel. I tangle my hand in her wild hair, the other cups her ass, pulling us somehow closer together, the kiss deepening, the release the finest I’ve ever felt.
If I’d known this would feel so good, I would have thrown caution to the wind weeks ago.
Evie is the first to break the kiss, and when we part I stumble backward. It’s like I’ve broken from an electric current, leaving me stunned and blinking. She doesn’t look much different, staring up at me with wide eyes, like she’s not sure what happened or how.
“Holy shit,” I say low in the back of my throat. My cock is starting to strain out to her now, hungry too. Needing to be buried inside her.
“It was just supposed to be a walk.” The words are admonishing but she sounds like she’s talking more to herself than to me.
“We both knew that was just an excuse,” I say.
The reality of the situation is setting in now. She rubs her forehead, shuffles her feet. “But what about what you said?” she asks, voice cracking. “Back in New York. What happened to too much going on, and— and needing to keep some distance?”
What had happened to it? I’m at a complete loss, because though I remember saying the words I can’t remember ever feeling them.
I lift one shoulder and let it drop. “The magic of Paris?” I guess.
Her mouth opens slightly, disbelieving and also suddenly trying not to laugh. “That’s what you’re going with?”
“Will you allow it?”
She almost does. I can see the want in her face, but the logical side is still turning in her brain. She hasn’t fallen over the cliff like I have, or not fully anyway. My heart sinks when I see the decision form well before the words leave her mouth.
“Look, Nick…”
I turn away. “You don’t need to say anything,” I say gruffly.
“No, I do.” She grabs my arm, turning me gently. “I need some time to think,” she says. “It’s not that I don’t like you. You’re… different from anyone I’ve ever met. But Brent…”
“Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on him,” I growl. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me.
Thankfully she shakes her head emphatically. “Oh god no. Absolutely not.”
“Then why are you letting him get to you?”
Evie bites her lip and tears form in her eyes. “I don’t want him to. Believe me, it’s the last thing I want. But him leaving me was the worst shock of my life. I was utterly broken in the aftermath. And to have them both here, on top of all the shit with Kara. It’s just a lot. And I’m tired. I’m really, really tired of trying to see the good in people.”
“Hey. Hey, come on,” I repeat more emphatically when she doesn’t look at me. Her gaze travels slowly up to meet mine. The sorrow in her eyes makes me feel a ferocity that I’m unaccustomed to. I want to protect her from these feelings. I wish they were physical monsters, something I could beat back with my fists. I’ve never been the best at comfort, but I can try. For her.
“It’s been a long day,” I say. “A stressful day. You just need some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning. Everything will be better in the morning.”
Evie presses her hands to her face. “I’m sorry, Nick,” she says again. “I promise it’s not you.”
“Look at me, Evie,” I say sternly enough that her hands drop in surprise. “Don’t you dare apologize for your feelings. And don’t worry about me. It’s okay.”
She nods hesitantly and, slowly, asking permission with my movements, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. She allows it, putting her head back on my shoulder, where it had rested during the plane ride.
“It really is beautiful,” she mutters.
The light from the buildings is glistening off the river. Quiet couples walk hand-in-hand down the riverfront. The night is warm and magical and as romantic a setting as it’s possible to have in this finite world. But none of it can compare to how Evie looked moments before my lips had connected with hers. Even though I’m disappointed, I try to enjoy the view and the simplicity of her head resting against me.
And take comfort in the fact that tomorrow is another day.