10. Evan
Evan
I’d known something was off the night before, but I hadn’t wanted to push her.
Perhaps I should have, because now that I was here, waiting to pick her up, my nerves stretched taut when her immediate, genuine smile died on her lips as she walked toward me.
I’d planted myself outside her building in the dubious shade of a live oak.
I rubbed the back of my neck, unsure how to handle this. “I figured I’d take you out for coffee. If that’s okay.”
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” she said. Her eyes, though, beseeched me to fix whatever was broken.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Lydia messaged me. You, too.”
I frowned. “She did?”
Emmy nodded. “Now that she’s not so worried about Gunnar, she was able to look into Hugh at Naomi’s urging. She let Hugh go. He lied from the get-go. The priceless silk tapestry was a reproduction.”
“That fucker,” I muttered. I was angry Hugh had lied, but I was also glad he’d given me this week with Emmy. I didn’t like how tangled my feelings were about the smarmy man.
Emmy nodded, her eyes sad. “So, there’s no reason for me to stay with you anymore.”
My breath caught as my chest caved in. “You want to leave?”
She clutched her backpack. “I shouldn’t have forced you to take me in.”
“You didn’t. I offered.”
She shook her head. “No. I showed up after Lydia and Hugh coerced you.”
The words landed sharper than she meant them to. “I know how to say no.”
“Do you? Because I’m not sure you felt you could. And I didn’t want to rock the boat either, so I feel like we were both taken advantage of like I’ve just… slid into your schedule between goalie drills and banana ripeness.”
And those words sliced me to my marrow. I had no response.
Her shoulders slumped. “This was always supposed to be temporary.”
“It started as PR,” I said. “But that’s not true now. We’re—”
“There is no us.”
It was like watching a puck hit the net instead of my glove, and I flinched in disbelief. “Don’t.”
She searched my gaze. “Don’t what?”
“Pretend this hasn’t been real.” My voice was as raw as my emotions.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “It can’t be real, Evan. It’s been less than a week.”
“You think I don’t know that? That doesn’t make my feelings less because of the time. I know how I feel, I know exactly what I want. You want to go back to your place. Fine, I get that. I don’t like it, but I understand. As long as I get time with you—”
“I can’t be someone Naomi still has to rescue.”
The change in topics threw me. “What?”
“She already raised me once. I’m not going to be the sister who derails her life again because I chased some—some hockey fantasy!”
I stepped back, but her comment sliced my heart in two. “Is that what I am to you?”
She hesitated. That was answer enough. My jaw set tight as I said, “Right. I see.”
“Evan, I’m so—”
“No, you made your point. And I heard you. Loud and clear, Emilia. I’m just a rookie goalie with a superstition about banana slices.”
Now, she leaned forward, beseeching. But she’d gone too far, and I wasn’t willing to accept comfort from the person who’d shredded my emotions.
“You’re more than that,” she whispered.
“Not enough more,” I said. She flinched, but I couldn’t make myself care. “I thought you saw me. Liked me.”
“I do,” she whispered. “That’s the problem.”
Silence. Then, barely audible, she said, “I don’t want to need someone this much.
” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I’m going to Naomi’s,” she said.
Running straight to her sister, the person she claimed she wouldn’t bother with her problems, instead of staying there and working them out with me. That hurt most of all.
“Yeah, you do that.” I turned on my heel and walked away, uncaring that the asshole reporter had caught our fight on camera.