Chapter 24
twenty-four
. . .
When we entered the bar it was busy, but not so packed we’d need to dodge around overgrown frat boys and their girlfriends.
I spotted an empty booth in the corner and beelined to it, Evan stood at the bar to order for us, the acts were choreographed as if this was a plan we had devised ahead of time.
As I slid onto the vinyl seat, I realized we should have done the inverse.
The very public figure should hide out in the booth while I subjected myself to the bartender—but he looked so natural, smiling and chatting up the bartender, and having a passing conversation with a patron in the stool beside him.
Could this be a glimpse of what our life could be?
I didn’t care about the high end restaurants or expensive gestures, I wanted someone who could order me a beer without even asking and bring it back to our tucked away booth with a broad smile across his face, exactly like Evan was doing right now.
Two dewy bottles dropped onto the table, he slid one across the sticky scratched wood and settled into the seat across from me.
“I like this place, a lot. I’m definitely coming back, it’s only a few blocks from where I’m staying.” He broadly grinned and adjusted himself in the booth, his knees bumped against mine.
“You’ve been here less than 10 minutes.”
“And already it’s far better than Lunar.”
“I think you fall in love a little too quickly, Evan.” I took a swig of beer and looked out to the crowd in the bar, it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility that I’d see someone I knew here.
I didn’t know if I’d be thrilled or panicked at the idea.
Evan got the dig, and took a long sip himself before he changed the subject.
“I kind of hate Boston,” he mentioned as I played with the puddle of condensation that had formed beneath my bottle.
“Do you? Already?” I asked, wondering if the romanticized version I’d promised eight months ago didn’t actually exist.
“Your winters are so much worse than New York, it’s colder and darker somehow,” he leaned back next to me and looked out his window.
“They are dark, and cold,” I follow his gaze to the window. He's in a penthouse but I know the view couldn’t be half as good as New York’s. Boston is good for a lot of things, the skyline isn’t one of them. “What have you been doing when you aren’t shooting?”
“I go for a lot of walks,” he said without follow-up.
“Walks?”
“I have a loop I walk each night around the neighborhood,” he replied quietly.
I thought of us running into one another as I jogged in circles around to calm myself down. We may have already passed one another.
Did he ever wander past my apartment? He could have watched my life from outside the window without me so much as noticing.
I wished now that I spotted his silhouette on the sidewalk, standing in a long coat, looking at the glow of the table lamps and the fuzzy outline of my body distorted from the curtains in my front window.
Could he hear the beat of my music from outside?
Did he hear the laughter from Andrea and Caroline and I as we watched some dumb teen movie?
Why was I romanticizing some light stalking from him?
We seamlessly fell back into other conversation, easier here than on Lunar’s rooftop.
Just as easily as we had when it was the two of us laying on the dock.
Our food showed up, and somehow the talking still didn’t stop, both excitedly speaking between bites, not caring about maintaining the same high society politeness we had when at Lunar.
Evan and I migrated outside, hanging underneath the neon lights like two moths. The bar was still open but it was getting louder and Evan’s privacy was slowly dissolving. After a drunk twenty-something stumbled up and shouted, “for the good of the kingdom!” at him, he opted to leave.
We couldn’t be pulled from each other yet. Our two magnets had found their polarity again.
And someone who’d perpetually been a hair out of reach always looked better when lit by the fluorescent sign of a bar.
“I can walk you home if you want,” Evan offered during a pause in conversation, “or I can get you an Uber if it’s too far.”
And that was it, the magic of the night would fizzle out. It was for the better this way, end on a sweet high note then figure out what came next. We’d have time, still finite, but enough for us to figure something out.
“I’m okay walking myself, truly,” my feet would manage on the walk back. Barely, in these boots. “I’ve gone here often solo.”
His face twisted uncomfortably at the idea of me trudging through the city alone, “it would make me feel better if I got you home safe.” He scratched at the back of his neck, “or if you’re up for it we can go back to my place and—” he glanced down at the sidewalk.
“And what?” I cocked a brow.
“Do more of whatever this is.”
A smile spread across my cheeks. I’d cosplay as a version of myself that wasn’t petrified of Evan’s affection when I had a chance to accept it.
He lived close by, a few blocks in the opposite direction of my place.
He entered the building—which looked like one of the nicest hotels I had ever stayed in—and I followed him through the lobby.
My apartment was the first floor of a multifamily clad in white clapboard, this was an new money luxury building with chairs in the lobby that probably cost more than my rent.
I shouldn’t be here, Evan or not.
The front desk attendant nodded and smiled at him and looked curiously at me. Our steps quietly echoed on the marble floor as he led me to the elevator.
The elevator ride up to his apartment was an excruciating ninety seconds, each of us pressed against a corner, both afraid of what would happen if we got too close. This was now a dangerous tightrope we were walking.
The hallway was silent, I trailed behind his click-clacking boots until we reached a door. Evan stepped inside and visibly relaxed. We were out of the public eye.
“I hate this apartment,” he grumbled as he tossed his jacket onto a chrome barstool. “It’s like if you asked a guy in 1997 to design the bachelor pad of the future.”
“I don’t know, I think it has its charm,” I yanked off my boots and propped them by the door. I placed my jacket over a dining chair as if it was my spot all along before resting my elbows on the kitchen island.
I assessed the sparking black quartz countertops and the shiny black lacquer cabinets in the kitchen. The whole place had a cool, sterile feel. Like no one actually lived here and it more so was the representation of the concept of an apartment.
I looked around. A few stray bananas sat in the fruit bowl, also chrome. There were dishes in the sink, not enough to look overtly messy but enough to make it look like someone was occupying the space. The corner of a brown takeout bag stuck out of the chrome trash can.
Evan headed straight to the fridge. “You want a drink? I don’t have much since I try to stay out of this chrome nightmare as much as I can.
I have some beers and a bottle of less expensive wine.
” The fridge was sparse. Its cool fluorescent light was an extension of the cool fluorescent light of the apartment.
Evan’s temporary home was basically one giant fridge.
“I’m good with water…I should probably sober up.”
Probably should. Like how I probably should be a responsible adult and not sleep with Evan tonight, despite the little sonar signals pinging between my brain and my nether regions telling me otherwise.
He nodded and pulled out an expensive bottle of water and slid it across the counter, cracking open his own bottle in the meantime. He gestured and led me towards the couch.
“So,” he said when he settled onto the cushion. They were stiff and obviously rarely used. I wouldn’t be surprised if Evan was the first tenant who sat down in this apartment.
“So,” I replied in kind, brushing imaginary dust off my skirt.
“I’m going to be crystal clear, I want to fuck you tonight. That is, if you’ll let me.”
I nearly choked on my water. It went down the wrong pipe and I started sputtering and coughing. Not cool. Nor casual.
Evan started laughing. “Sorry, I know I’m being direct but I feel like this moment is fleeting and I don’t want to lose you again without the chance to touch you.”
Now my heart hitched, right when I was getting my breathing back towards some semblance of normalcy.
I don’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that this night was the best night I’d had in years, but I decided to be honest too.
“It’s not a good idea, we just started figuring how to be friends with each other—”
“Do you want it, though? Because something tells me that you might.” He scooted closer on the couch, warmth was radiating from him, I could smell the alcohol on his lips.
“Evan—”
He was magnetic, I found myself leaning in towards him.
Maybe fate was being kind to me this evening.
“I’m asking you. I’ll take you home right now, if that’s what you want.” Evan placed one of his hands on the couch cushion, so close beside my thigh I could sense his heat.
“It’s not what I want. At all,” our lips were millimeters apart, both hovering with expectation as they prepared for their meeting. “But it’s what I should do,” I barely whispered.
Evan’s reply was simply a breathy kiss on my lips, we interlocked with one another it felt like our first time kissing all over again. It felt like my first time kissing anyone. Glitter gel pen feelings bubbled up and I nearly made him stand so I could pop my leg.
“Oh my god,” he groaned into my neck behind my earlobe.
“I thought it was going to kill me if I had to pretend to just be friends.” The reverberations from his mouth made my toes go numb and my spine feel like it was being dunked into the Arctic.
“Fuck I missed you.” His lips urged my mouth open again.