Chapter 6 Evie
EVIE
I haven’t used Charles in three days. That’s the longest I’ve ever gone.
It’s not because I don’t want to. I’m horny as hell—hornier than I’ve ever been in my life. But every time I try, my body simply refuses to cooperate. I just can’t do it without…
…him.
Dawson Clark.
Charles is great. He’s reliable and has been my rock for years. But he doesn’t have Dawson’s hands, his broad shoulders, or that gravelly voice that does funny things to my insides.
My dreams last night were nothing but him. I keep waking up, hot and sweaty under my sheets, a desperate longing between my legs. But Charles can’t cure it for me.
Only one thing can. And only Dawson has it.
I’ve been checking my phone obsessively for the last three days.
Dawson’s texts are always short, direct, and never overwhelming.
But I still feel like I never know what to say back.
I take forever to reply, and everything I write feels cringe.
Any day now he’s going to give up on me. I just know it.
What will I do then? How long will it take for me to get over him? How long before I can go back to Charles and my routine?
“You’re horny for an actual human,” Reese says, eyeing me over her latte. “This is a historic time.”
She asked me to meet up for a coffee, and I jumped at the opportunity to get out of the house. I need something—anything—to distract me from thinking about Dawson. We met at a different place this time. Just in case he decided to drop by unannounced again.
I cover my face in my arms, wanting to melt into the table and die. “Leave me alone!” I pout. Reese laughs back and pats me on the head like I’m a good dog or something.
“Don’t be embarrassed. This is a good thing. Maybe now you can have an actual boyfriend that isn’t made of plastic!”
“Silicon…” I mutter.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.” I can’t take this any longer. I need Dawson, but I’m still too afraid. Of what? I couldn’t even put it into words. All I know is that I am. All I can hope is that he eventually loses interest.
My phone buzzes, shaking the table. Startled, I reach for it, but Reese grabs it first.
“Gimmie,” I snap. But she stares at the screen and her eyes go wide. “What? What is it?”
“Oh my God, Evie…”
My heart is pounding so fast I move like The Flash, snatching my phone back from her. There’s a text on the screen from Dawson. And when I read it, my entire body freezes.
Dinner with me tonight. Pick you up at seven. If you don’t open the door, I’ll wait outside until you do.
I blink rapidly as my mind basically stops working. I don’t even know what to say, so I quickly text back:
No. I can’t.
“Did you just say no to him?” Reese asks, her voice a mixture of annoyance and amusement. “Dawson is a total hottie, if you haven’t noticed.”
“You think I haven’t noticed!?” My voice explodes from my mouth, causing Reese to jump in her chair. I put a hand to my chest. “Sorry…I’m just…I don’t know what to do—”
Before I can finish, my phone buzzes in my hand. Another text.
I wasn’t asking.
He’s so assertive. So confident. It has my body aching all over. I thought I was desperate when I woke up this morning, but these texts…they’re taking things to a whole new level.
“You’re gonna go is what you’re gonna do,” Reese chimes in, raising an eyebrow. “If you don’t, I will.”
“Shut up.” I frown. “You will not.”
“I will.” She smirks. “I’ll take him dancing, I’ll back my ass up on him and then take him home and—”
“Okay!” I blurt out, grabbing my things as I stand. “I’ll go.”
She laughs. “Damn right you will.”
“Which means I have to get out of here and get ready.” I glance at the time. “He’s gonna be here in three hours. How in the world will I be ready by then!?”
“You’ll be fine,” Reese assures me.
But will I? All I can think about on the drive home is how I’m going to embarrass myself. I have zero experience with guys, and I’m sure Dawson has had gazillions of women. I mean, who would be stupid enough to turn him down?
Aside from me, of course…
I spend the rest of the afternoon in a full anxiety spiral, tearing my closet apart, searching for something acceptable to wear.
I need something that makes me look cute but not like I’m trying too hard.
Eventually, after showering and blow-drying my hair, I settle on a pair of faded blue jeans and a lime-green halter top.
Doing my makeup is nearly impossible, thanks to how badly my hands are shaking. Maybe I should just call this off. I mean, he can’t force me to go out with him.
I actually take out my phone and type out a text:
I can’t do this.
My thumb hovers over the send button.
But what am I supposed to do if he follows through on his promise to just sit outside my apartment, waiting for me?
No. I set the phone aside. I have to go. I want to. I just don’t know how I’m going to survive.
At precisely seven o’clock, there’s a heavy knock on the door. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, fighting the urge to throw up.
This is it. Get yourself together.
Slowly, I walk to the door and open it, revealing Dawson standing there like a statue. He fills the entire frame with his hulking body, a physique that any man would kill for.
He’s wearing a pair of khaki pants and a worn Henley that is nearly bursting at the neck from the bulging enormity of his chest muscles.
I force my eyes to lock on his, keeping them from exploring every inch of him like my instincts are telling me. But it’s not possible. My gaze drifts down his biceps, tracing the lines of his veins as they move down to his thick forearms, and then finally to his hands…
God, those hands…
I want them on me. Threaded through my hair, bending my neck back as he kisses me all over. I want him to spank me. Grab my hips and show me who’s boss.
But right now, I just have to keep it together. And as he looks at me like I’m the only girl in the world, I feel myself starting to melt.
“Good girl,” he says simply, the hint of a smile on his lips.
My knees almost give out. I pretend like I have to grab my phone charger just so I can lean against the counter until my head stops spinning.
Yes. Talk to me like that. More…
My vision is a blur as he leads me out of my apartment to his truck. I barely even know what’s happening. All I can focus on is the feeling of his hand on my skin as he guides me—the rough calluses of a working man.
He’s strong but is a total gentleman as he helps me into my seat and drives us to the restaurant, which happens to be Vincenzo’s, the nicest place in town.
When we walk in, he casually gives the doorman a hundred, and we’re seated immediately. Instead of taking the chair opposite me, he slides onto the booth beside me, getting so close I can feel his warmth. Smell his scent. I even feel his muscular thigh press against mine.
Here, sitting next to him in the dimly lit booth, I already feel like I belong to him. The rest of the world simply does not exist. It’s just the two of us.
He orders for both of us: a steak for him and some kind of chicken pasta dish that I can’t even pronounce but is absolutely delicious for me. My mouth is watering as I take my first bite.
But then again, it’s been watering since he first showed up at my apartment…
“How’s your dinner?” he asks. It’s strange how polite he can be. I guess I thought he’d be…rougher.
“Wonderful,” I reply, hiding my mouth with my hand as I chew. “Thank you.”
“What do you do for a living, Evie?”
“I’m a graphic design artist,” I reply. “Basically any kind of digital art someone might need—logos, app design, text, photos. All kinds of stuff.”
He nods, the intensity of his eyes bearing down on me. He actually seems interested, but with him this close, I can barely concentrate.
“So you’re talented.” He nods. My cheeks flush, and I’m just about to reply when I feel his hand on my knee. No, not his hand. Just his thumb, moving in soft, slow circles in a way that causes my entire body to vibrate.
Poetic.
My lips are trembling as I search for a response. But thankfully, our waiter arrives and asks us if we’d like dessert.
“No,” I blurt out. “We’re fine. Just the check, please!”
Ugh, did I just do that? End the date awkwardly in front of Dawson and our waiter?
I don’t know what I’m doing.
Every instinct I have is telling me to hurl myself into this man’s arms. But at the same time, I don’t know men! I have no idea what to do. All I can see is me making a fool out of myself.
Even as I stand up and head for the door, I can see Dawson smiling at me out of the corner of my eye. Outside, I pretend like I’m checking my phone while he pulls the truck up. Now I just have to make sure I don’t do something stupid on the way home.
The drive back to my apartment feels like an eternity. My whole body is buzzing. I feel like a tiny little planet in orbit around Dawson’s massive body. When he finally pulls up at my place, I’m frozen. I want to get out of the truck and race inside, but I also want to stay.
“You did so good tonight, Evie,” he tells me. I look up at him, feeling his praise like a physical touch. I want more. More.
But all I can do is shove the door open and run for the hills. I can’t even look back. I gasp for breath as I shut the door behind me. Only once I hear his truck pull away do I start to get a grip on things.
My thighs clamp together. My panties are soaked. The need inside me is so strong it’s painful. Charles won’t even put a dent in it.
Slumping down on the kitchen floor, I grab my phone from my purse. I start to text him but stop.
No. I can’t stop. He has to know.
I wanted you to kiss me.
I type it as fast as possible and press send. It takes him three minutes to respond, but those three minutes feel like an eternity.
I know. Next time, ask me.