Chapter 8 Eva
The bane of my existence was never supposed to be forced proximity with a man I have loathed for the last eight years.
My cheeks feel like they’re on fire as I walk away, detouring to the restroom to calm myself down and splash cold water on my face.
The nerve of him.
I love Maddy, but this isn’t going to work.
There is no way I can endure spending more than a single minute with her brother for the sake of a wedding.
It will be easier if I do it all myself.
I mean, honestly, what will Aston contribute anyway?
I highly doubt he wants to sit with me and audition violinists playing love songs.
Ramona enters the restroom, trying to maintain her balance. She lets out a hiccup and a small laugh, then covers her mouth. “Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have had that last glass of champagne.”
“Maybe not.” I force a smile, then turn to face her. “Will you be okay getting home? Or wherever you’re staying?”
She nods with a wide grin on her face. On closer inspection, Ramona is a beautiful woman. Her skin is flawless, or perhaps it’s her makeup. Either way, I’m surprised she’s single, since most men would eat her alive.
Okay, that sounded gross, even to me.
Someone get me out of my brain.
“Aston has offered to take me home,” she almost sings out loud.
Oh, I mouth, crossing my arms again with my usual annoyance upon hearing his name. “When did he offer to do that?”
“Just then, before I walked in here. I told you he’s quite the man. It’s hard to find the right guy, you know? The one who checks all the boxes.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mutter, then continue, “or maybe he just wants to get you into bed.”
Ramona laughs a little too obnoxiously as she leans against the tiled wall. “And? Have you seen how unbelievably sexy he is?”
Suddenly, this restroom feels like a damn jail cell.
Just little old me trapped with Aston’s hookup for tonight.
“I have to go make sure everyone is okay. Have fun with him.”
I stomp out of there so fast, oblivious to guests walking past me to leave.
Maddy is saying goodbye to Myles’s parents, so I escape to the kitchen to thank the team.
Our conversation takes longer than anticipated, and by the time I get back, everyone is outside in the parking lot or has already left.
Maddy is quick to find me, but Aston is nowhere to be seen. Thank God.
Her arms wrap around me in a tight embrace. “Thank you for today. What would I do without you?”
I close my eyes to try to remember Maddy is more to me than a best friend, and all this misery will be worth it for her happily ever after. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Myles’s mother insisted we have afternoon drinks at her place. Will you be okay?”
“I will be.” I smile, then sigh. “What about you?”
“Afternoon drinks, Eva. That’s the only reason I agreed to go. I figure the strong martinis she serves will numb me enough to get through it.”
Myles opens the car door for Maddy. He quickly kisses my cheek to thank me, and then the two of them slide into the car to drive off, leaving me alone with relief that today is finally over.
My car is parked only a few spots away. As I walk toward it, my attention is shifted to a flat tire on the rear driver’s side. I lean against the car in self-pity, only for a raindrop to hit my forehead. “Oh no, you better not.”
Just as the words leave my mouth, the rain falls hard and fast. I can’t believe my luck today. All I need is a pile of dog poop to step in, and I’m officially done.
My hair clings to the back of my neck as the roar of an engine grabs my attention. I glance to my left to find a sleek gray Porsche beside me. The window glides down, revealing Aston in the driver’s seat.
“Get in,” he demands.
I turn to face him. “I’m not getting in there with you.”
“Stop being stubborn and get in the goddamn car before you get sick.”
It’s a total downpour that even my coat doesn’t stop my dress plastering to my skin. My hair and makeup are undoubtedly ruined, so at this point, who cares if I catch a cold?
“I’d rather end up in the hospital than step foot in your quarter-life-crisis mobile,” I snap.
His hands tighten around the steering wheel. “If you don’t get in, Everleigh, I will step out and put you in this car myself. Is that what you want? A little hands-on kidnapping scenario?” He simpers, voice laced with a daring edge. “If that’s what does it for you, I am more than happy to oblige.”
My mouth drops. “You are such an ass!”
Before I know it, I’m yanking the door open and sliding into his stupid car. “There. Happy now?”
Aston gives me a sly smirk as he shifts the car into gear. “Buckle up, sweetheart. It’s going to be a wild ride.”
The last thing I needed today was to be trapped inside a small sports car with Aston Beaumont. My teeth are chattering so I reach out to the heating knob, fingers trembling as I fumble to crank up the warmth.
“Who said you can touch my controls?” Aston questions sternly.
“I’m freezing,” I bite back. “Do you want me to die of hypothermia inside your car?”
Beside me, he rolls his eyes. “Ironic, since a moment ago, you were willing to go to the hospital rather than get into my quarter-life-crisis mobile.”
“More like penis-extension mobile,” I mutter under my breath. “Everyone knows men who drive Porsches have something to prove.”
Aston relaxes in his seat, then reaches out to turn up the heat. The car takes only seconds to warm, releasing the tension inside my body.
“If you’re still cold, I have a coat in the back you can put on,” he offers, but his tone sounds annoyed. “Can’t have you dying in my penis-extension mobile.”
He takes a sharp turn, causing me to jerk to my right.
“I would get it if you’d stop driving like a maniac,” I complain.
I reach over and pull the navy wool coat toward me, feeling the weight of the expensive fabric as I drape it around my shoulders, the soft material cocooning me against the lingering chill.
Closing my eyes momentarily, I relish the warmth and allow my body to relax.
I’m beyond exhausted, with my social battery completely drained.
Hopefully, Aston will leave me in silence for the rest of the drive so I can regroup.
The car’s speed slows as Aston takes the next turn smoothly. He briefly glances at me but then focuses back on the road. “Better?”
I don’t even acknowledge him, suddenly aware I’m too close to my enemy.
With a need to distract myself, I let my eyes wander to his hand resting on the stick shift.
Every time he shifts gears, the veins protrude, and I squeeze my legs tight because of the uncontrollable sensation taking over. Why do his hands have to look so…
Don’t say it, Eva.
He changes gears again, forcing me to turn away as the simple movement makes my urges all the more unbearable. It’s been a while since a guy touched me, but it has not been that long.
“I assume your guy friend will assist you with the tire,” Aston alludes in a sharp tone.
I shrug, staring out the window. “Right, my guy friend. Maybe, I could ask.”
Aston slams his foot on the gas, obviously bothered by my answer. I turn my head to look at him, and under my intense stare, he shifts his body uncomfortably.
“You seem rather annoyed by my guy friend ,” I begin, keeping my smirk at bay. “One would think you have a problem with me, too.”
“I’m not annoyed,” he insists. “I just don’t want to be planning this wedding on my own while you’re busy with some boyfriend doing God knows what.”
I raise a brow with a glassy stare. “I’m not a flake. Maddy is my best friend. Besides, weren’t you supposed to take Ramona home?”
Aston’s eyes widen. “Fuck.”
“Don’t tell me you left her behind without a word.” I laugh, the image of a stranded Ramona too amusing to resist. “The poor girl assumed she was getting laid tonight.”
“I don’t sleep with every woman I speak to, believe it or not,” he deadpans, his expression flat as if he’s daring me to challenge him.
Big mistake. “Yeah, right. Why else would you take a drunk chick home?”
Aston turns to look at me with a slackened mouth. “Myles asked me to.”
I study him closely, noting the way he leans back in his seat, effortlessly relaxed, as if leaving Ramona behind was the most natural thing in the world. “I call bullshit. He did not.”
“Would you like to call him to ask?” He moves his hand to his phone, ready to dial. “If you think I’m lying, I’m more than happy to prove you wrong.”
“Fine, whatever.” My arms fold at the same time as he turns left onto Ginger Grove. I glance around before asking, “How do you know where I live?”
“Madelina,” he answers nonchalantly.
“Oh,” I murmur as he pulls up to the back of the building.
Out front is the café, but back here lies the entrance to my apartment.
I unbuckle my seat belt, eyes fixed on the rain pounding against the windshield.
My choices are to stay in this confined space, awkwardly silent, or make a dash for it and get drenched before I even reach the door.
A little rain never hurt anyone… right?
“Thank you for taking me home,” I say, unable to look him in the eye. “I guess we should catch up to talk about the wedding stuff. How about tomorrow morning at my café?”
“Sure.”
I nod, then place my hand on the door handle, but something makes me turn back around to face him. “There is no guy.”
Aston tilts his head, his gaze sharp and penetrating as he examines me. I shift uncomfortably, suddenly aware of every inch of his attention.
“So the one at the bar looking rather cozy with you was a stranger?” he questions in a rigid tone.
“He is someone I know,” I reply honestly. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Aston presses his lips flat, then mutters, “Yet…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask with a heated glare.
“It means your gentleman friend’s body language would indicate he’s waiting for the right time to strike.”
My body temperature rises as my anger spikes. “And what makes you think I give in so easily?”
He keeps quiet with that stupid smirk on his face. Of course, he just broke the cardinal rule—he called a woman a slut. Okay, maybe not in so many words, but the assumption I sleep around is there.
“You’re telling me a man and a woman can’t be friends?”
“No! If a man tells you he’s happy to be friends, he’s waiting for you to get comfortable before getting you into bed.”
“Right, so all men are jerks? That’s what you’re telling me?
” I snap, grabbing my purse, barely containing my anger.
“You know what? I’m going to pretend this conversation never happened.
See you tomorrow morning. And by the way, from now on, it’s wedding stuff only. That’s all I’ll discuss with you.”
Despite the rain, I throw open the door and dash toward the stairs, barely feeling the drops pelting my skin. I don’t turn around to watch him leave, but the deep, throaty roar of his engine echoes behind me, cutting through the downpour as he speeds off.
As soon as I get inside the apartment, I strip off my soaked clothes and jump into a hot shower. Steam fills the bathroom, easing the tension from my muscles and nearly washing away the weight of the day. But Aston’s words linger, refusing to fade.
“What an asshole,” I mumble to myself.
When the heat becomes too much, I turn off the water, dry off, and pull on a pair of jeans and a cozy knitted sweater. The café is still open for another hour, so I head downstairs to check on Billie and, hopefully, clear my head.
Billie is wrapping up with customers, and as the door finally closes behind them, I join her in the kitchen, rolling up my sleeves to wash trays and wipe down countertops. The steady rhythm of cleaning brings a welcome calm, if only for a moment.
“How was the lunch?” Billie asks, counting the cash in the register.
I shrug. “As expected.”
“You seem tense. Did something happen?”
Denial will only get me so far, but I’ll ride its wave for as long as I can. “Just an exhausting day. How about I finish up here, and you leave for the day? You’ve had a busy one.”
Billie wipes her hands on her apron. “You sure?”
“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As soon as the lights turn off, I lean against the wall and close my eyes.
It’s going to take all my patience to deal with Aston because he sure as hell likes to make it difficult.
He’s a womanizer with only one agenda.
Thank God he appears to despise me just as much.
My phone vibrates on the counter. I don’t recognize the number but pick it up anyway.
“Hello, Eva speaking.”
“Hello, Eva,” the smooth voice sounds over the speaker. “Too early to call?”
My cheeks rise into a grin as my shoulders relax.
“For you, Marco, it’s never too early.”