Chapter 2
EVIE
When I wake up, I don’t even bother opening my eyes. I just reach for Charles’ drawer like I do every morning as a matter of habit. But just as I grab the knob, the sound of knocking at the front door nearly startles me out of bed.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I sit up and deflate. I recognize the sound instantly. Reese.
“Wake up, loser!” she shouts, adding a kick that actually shakes the walls of my crappy apartment.
“Coming!” I shout groggily as I crawl out of bed and into a pair of raggedy Santa pajama bottoms. I have no idea where I got them or why I still have them, but they’re comfortable.
Reese is all wide-eyed and full of smiles when I open the door, and she throws herself onto me, nearly crushing me in a hug. She still smells of smoke and alcohol from wherever she was last night.
“Have you slept yet?” I ask.
Laughing, she shakes her head. “Met this hot guy named Trevor. Not just hot, but also so nice. We ended up talking all night at his place.”
“Just talking?” I ask. She pushes past me inside.
“Well. And some other stuff…” Using her middle finger, she makes a suggestive motion between her legs.
“Riiiight.” I nod.
“How was your night?” she asks, gulping down an entire glass of water in seconds. She’s talking just fine, but I’d bet she’s still hung over.
“Oh, ya know,” I reply, looking away. “Same ‘ol same ‘ol.”
Making a tsk sound with her tongue against her teeth, she takes a seat at the table and gives me that look my mom always used to give me when I lived at home. Disapproval.
“You’re gonna jack-hammer your pussy into bubblegum, you know that, right?”
Groaning, I go to the pantry and grab some cereal.
“Leave me alone.” I’m still slightly mortified that Reese knows my schedule with Charles.
I let it slip one night, and I regret it.
But that wasn’t half as bad as when she found him in between the couch cushions on another one of her unannounced visits.
“I’m just trying to help,” she replies. “And speaking of which, you’re coming out tonight.”
“Am not.”
“You are. That guy I met? He’s throwing a house-warming party later, and you are coming.”
“Nope,” I reply as I sit down with my bowl. “I’m gonna eat my cereal, work on a few logos I have to design for this new publishing company, and then—”
“And then lock yourself in your bedroom with Charles,” she interrupts, cocking one eyebrow at me. “Am I wrong?”
Shrugging, I spoon a mouthful of cereal and just give her the look. The one all girlfriends have that basically says everything without saying it. She smirks back at me. “You know, I’m not leaving until you agree to come out. And I’m going to make it impossible for you to work while I’m here.”
My stomach drops. She’s half-joking but also serious. Reese doesn’t do this sort of thing often, but when she gets her mind set, there’s no changing it.
“So either I go to this party with you, or I don’t get any work done today?”
“That’s right!” she laughs, heading for the door. “I’ll be back around eight to pick you up. Look cute. There will be boys there.”
“Fine!” I shout after her as she makes her exit. “I’ll go. But only for one hour!”
I spend the rest of the day somewhat working on the new company logo that’s due in two days but mostly obsessing over what I’m going to wear tonight.
Having spent the last several months in nothing more than pajamas and sweats, the thought of even putting on something remotely cute has my head spinning.
It seems like an insurmountable task, but after I shower and blow-dry my hair, I manage to settle on a pair of faded jeans and a black lace top that’s sort of like a corset thing but appropriate for public.
It’s more than I’d normally wear out, but I know if I try to play it conservative, Reese will just make me change and then force me out the door.
I rehearse small-talk in the mirror and fail miserably. My anxiety is already kicking in. I’ll just keep a drink in my hands at all times and sip from it whenever someone tries to talk to me. Especially a guy.
Five minutes before eight, I quickly down a pre-game vodka tonic to take the edge off, but when she shows up and I find myself walking out to Reese’s car, I realize it didn’t even make a dent.
I don’t hear a word she says on the drive there. My anxiety has reached a nearly explosive level. And when I see the actual party, with people standing outside, drinking and chatting, I’m sure I’m about to have a panic attack.
“Let’s go back!” I hiss as Reese parks. “We can hang out at my apartment and play Clue!”
Reese frowns at me like I just stepped out of a time machine. “Clue? Who are you, my grandmother?” Laughing, she hops out of the car and comes around to my side. Ignoring my protests, she drags me out and into the chatter-filled night.
I’m instantly overwhelmed, and I cling to Reese’s hand like it’s my lifeline while she whispers encouragement into my ear. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I do need to get out of the house more. Nothing’s even happened yet and I’m already freaking out.
The house is nice. It looks old but recently renovated and is absolutely packed with people.
Dragging Reese behind me, I rush to the drinks table, and in an attempt to calm my nerves, grab some kind of cocktail and throw it back.
It tastes like piss and burns as it goes down, but after a minute, the roar around me has dulled.
“Feeling better now?” Reese teases, sipping at her own drink.
“Yo, Reese, I see you brought your hot friend.” I look to my left as a clearly-drunk man advances on us. He sways as he holds a beer in his hand, his eyes glassy and a droopy grin on his face. I instantly regret my decision of coming out tonight.
“That’s Brad Simmons,” she whispers. “A real prick.”
He walks right up to me and drapes an arm around my shoulders. My nose curls at the stink of booze and body odor. “This house has a hot tub, did you know that?”
“Nope” is all I can say, shaking my head.
“Why don’t I show you?”
“I’m okay,” I reply, glancing at Reese for help. Like the stone-cold bitch she is, she instantly comes to my aid, grabbing Brad’s arm and tugging it off me.
“You’re drunk. We’re trying to have a nice night. Why don’t you go check the hot tub out yourself?”
But Brad won’t take no for an answer. He steps in and drapes his arm around me again, smiling even broader as he takes a swig from his beer. “Just relax,” he says, slurring his words. “Don’t get all bitchy with me—”
But doesn’t even have a chance to finish his sentence.
There’s a flash of a hand, a grunt, and then he’s flying backwards onto the floor. Gasping, I whirl and find myself looking up at the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.
He’s big, tall, and broad and somehow takes up more space than any of the other men in the house.
And he does it without even trying. His eyes are dark, his jaw is strong, and he has an energy about him that goes straight to my stomach.
It’s calm but coiled. Like he has a lot more in store if Brad wants to find out.
“And that,” Reese whispers. “Is Dawson Clark.”
“Are you okay?” he asks me, his voice deep and filled with bass.
My jaw drops as his eyes meet mine. It’s not just a glance either. His gaze locks on to me with a predator’s intensity. I try to speak, but my tongue doesn’t work. The words simply do not come.
His hands are strong and thick, hanging from his veiny forearms like weapons. I start to overheat as I press my thighs together and find them wet, slick with a sudden, shocking arousal. No man has ever been able to cause my body to react like this. This goes beyond even what Charles can do to me.
My face goes suddenly hot, like I’m having an allergic reaction. I know I’m blushing, and I try to look away, but I can’t. It’s like he’s bound me to him with an invisible chain.
“I…I can’t breathe…” I gasp to Reese, finally finding the will to step back. Reese glances at me, then back to my mysterious savior.
“Evie, are you okay?” she whispers.
No. I’m not okay. I’m going to have a heart attack if I stay here any longer.
Something snaps inside me. I drop my glass and stumble my way through the crowd, mumbling apologies as I fight through the bodies to reach the door.
They’re all looking at me. I know it. But that’s nothing compared to his gaze.
Whoever he is, I can feel it on me as I finally make it to the door and bolt out into the night.
I run. I keep running. And I don’t look back.