Chapter 25
25
GUY ‘FOSTER’
Eve shrugs, her delicate shoulders rising and falling in a gesture of nonchalance. However, the pleading look in her eyes betrays her true feelings. ‘Because I’d like it,’ she says, her voice soft and earnest. ‘Is that enough?’
Yes, the fact that she’d like it is more than enough for me. It always has been. I want to say that to her, but there is no way I am bringing up the past again. We never even finished our conversation from last night, but I feel like we got somewhere despite that. We each kept our past hidden away because we couldn’t let it go. That’s something, in my book.
‘Alright,’ I say, laying the accent on thick. ‘Southern Foster reportin’ fer duty – at yer request, Miss Eve.’ I tip my brand-new cowboy hat, feeling my heart swell with pride as she beams at me for granting her absurd request.
‘Well, howdy there, Mr Foster,’ she replies playfully. ‘What brings you to a place like this?’
‘A beautiful girl – or fate, perhaps,’ I respond with a grin.
Pink fills her cheeks. ‘Thank you, handsome. Speaking of fate… I should warn you that I plan on mounting that bull over there at some point tonight.’
Mount the bull. Christ, Evie. I can’t help but laugh.
‘If I weren’t already broken, I’d break whatever record this place has.’
‘I once went nineteen seconds,’ Gen boasts with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. ‘Got free drinks for the rest of the evening.’ The sound of clinking glasses and laughter fills the air around us.
‘And I’m sure that had nothing to do with the fact that she’s “doing” the bartender,’ Eve teases her.
‘Don’t tell all my secrets!’ Gen responds with a playful nudge to Eve’s arm as the song changes. ‘Oh, I love this one! Come on, we gotta get out there.’
‘Coming?’ Eve asks, turning to me for confirmation.
I shake my head, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the rowdy atmosphere. ‘Not sure I could keep up even if I wanted to.’
Eve lets out an exasperated sigh. ‘OK then, party pooper. I’ll be back,’ she says, handing me her now-empty glass. ‘Order me another?’
‘Jesus, you drank that already?’ I ask in disbelief as I hold up the empty glass.
She smirks, cocking her head at me. ‘We’re having fun like we used to tonight, remember?’
‘I mean, yes, ma’am,’ I quickly correct myself, using the southern accent I grew up hearing but have since trained myself out of. The music grows louder and more infectious as people dance and mingle around us.
I make my way back to the bustling bar, weaving through the dance floor where Eve and Gen are effortlessly line dancing to an Alan Jackson song. Their boots tap in perfect sync with the lively music, their faces aglow with joy. I can’t help but smile at the sight of Eve in her cowgirl get-up, a straw hat perched on her head, and the flannel showing off her midriff, hugging her petite frame.
A sweet, sugary scent wafts toward me, emanating from the drink I ordered for her. The glass is deceptively innocent, its contents hidden by a layer of frothy foam. Curiosity gets the best of me and I take a sip, only to be hit with an unexpected intensity that nearly has me choking. Startled, I catch the attention of the man sitting next to me, who looks at me with concern. I quickly wave him off, assuring him that I’ll survive this potent concoction. My taste buds come alive as I realize that this drink is no ordinary cocktail. It’s definitely moonshine, and judging by its strength, at least a double shot. This girl will be riding that bull after this drink, I promise.
As I gaze out at the dance floor, my eyes are immediately drawn to Eve who moves with grace and fluidity as she twirls and dips. She’s the center of attention, sparkling like the diamond she is, lost in the joy of dancing with a crowd of people moving as one. Her skirt flounces and sways with each step, and her blonde hair bounces under the cowboy hat perched atop her head. Every time she turns toward me, her whole face lights up and she gestures for me to join in on the fun.
With a playful grin and a wink, I lift her drink in response to each invitation. ‘Gotta keep an eye on this,’ I shout over the booming music, knowing she probably can’t hear me. But she’s too busy twirling and laughing to care.
‘Come on, Fost,’ she begs, approaching me when the song is over. ‘One dance probably wouldn’t even exert you as much as ten blocks do.’
‘A break-dance might.’
‘Do you break-dance?’ she asks, looking confused at this new information.
‘No.’
‘Then how about a slow song?’
‘I’d love to, honestly, but I’m afraid if I jostle my insides too much, I might drop dead, and I can’t possibly have in my obituary that I died country line dancing.’
She laughs, the sound like tinkling bells on a summer breeze. ‘The physical therapist says movement is good, as long as you don’t over-exert yourself – remember?’
‘You remind me every day, Jellybean.’
‘And every day you get a little bit better, so I must be doing something right.’
As the song changes to one she knows and likes, her body sways expertly to the beat. She stands in front of me, her drink in hand and straw between her lips. Suddenly, she reaches for my free hand and pulls me onto the dance floor.
‘It’s a slow one,’ she says, her voice low and sultry. ‘I’m sure you can keep up. Just sway with me.’ Her hand moves to rest on the back of my neck, while her other hand grips the glass tightly. ‘Even the bad dancers get away with swaying on the slow songs.’
I raise an eyebrow at her teasing remark. ‘Are you insinuating that I’m a bad dancer?’ I ask. But as I hesitantly slide my free hand around her waist and pull her closer, I can’t help but feel the electricity between us and suddenly, I couldn’t care less if my dance skills were the worst of the worst.
My God, this girl smells like a fresh summer day. Her perfume fills my senses and it’s unlocking memories I’d buried deep after realizing she wasn’t coming back. Yet here we are now, swaying to the music together and it feels right. Like no time has passed at all. As we move in sync, our bodies pressed close together yet not too close, I realize that maybe some things never truly die.
‘The backflip and hip thrusts you do after winning hardly qualify as dancing,’ she remarks, a teasing glint in her eye as she looks up at me.
‘Hey, backflips in your thirties aren’t as easy as they used to be, you know. But the fans love ’em,’ I say with a hint of pride in my voice. ‘So I gotta give ’em what they want.’
For a few brief years as a child, I did gymnastics because I was into it. If nothing else, it helped me understand gravity. I’ve still got a few gymnast party tricks up my sleeve that I break out on the track at times.
With a graceful shake of her head, Eve moves from side to side, taking charge and effortlessly carrying the dance. Her movements are like poetry in motion, fluid and mesmerizing. I can’t help but savor her company as we listen to the song’s lyrics about hating love. It perfectly captures her essence.
‘You really relate to this one, huh?’ I remark with a playful grin.
Her lips curve into a mischievous smile as she sings along to the lyrics. ‘Love sucks,’ she declares with conviction.
A gentle tap on my shoulder startles me, causing me to step away from her and turn toward the source of the interruption. A tall, light-haired man stands before us, his gaze fixed solely on Eve.
‘May I cut in?’ he asks politely, gesturing toward her with his hand. His confident presence and piercing stare make it clear that he won’t take no for an answer.
Eve’s eyes blaze with an intense rage as she gazes at the man before her. The air between them crackles with a charged tension, like a storm about to break. So much so, I want to step away but feel like for her sake, I shouldn’t. Their faces twist in familiar contempt. It’s clear they have a history together, one filled with animosity and resentment.
‘I’m not sure she’s up for it,’ I say, but he’s not paying attention to me. His eyes are on Eve.
‘I’ve missed you,’ the man says to Eve, whose brows pinch together with fury. That’s the face of a woman who hasn’t missed him back. I step closer, holding a hand out to keep the stranger at a distance.
‘Maybe this isn’t a great id?—’
Before I can even finish my sentence, the man falls to his knees in front of me, his hands frantically grasping at his throat as he struggles for air. His eyes bulge with surprise and fear, his body heaving in a desperate attempt to breathe.
I turn to Eve and see her rubbing her fist, a fierce determination in her fiery gaze.
‘Did you just throat-punch him?’ I ask, my voice filled with shock.
‘I did. Ouch, that hurt more than I expected.’ She shakes her hand, attempting to alleviate the pain.
‘My God, Eve!’ the man bellows when he can finally speak, attempting to get to his feet. His voice is strained and desperate, like a wounded animal.
‘You miss me?’ she hollers, her seething anger seeping through every word. I’ve never seen this side of her. The patrons around us instinctively take a step back, sensing the intensity of their exchange. ‘How about you go choke on a poisonous cock!’
Dang. I stifle a laugh at her choice of words. Thank God she’s never said them to me. They for sure know each other, and not in a great way. I step forward again to help – even though with all my injuries, I may die doing so. She’s worth it. But before I can reach them, a hand on my shoulder pulls me back. Genevieve stands beside me with a half-guilty grin on her face.
‘Don’t,’ she advises, shaking her head. ‘Trust me, she doesn’t need us. He’s earned this, so we’ll wait to step in until just before she kills him.’ She waves a hand at Brady, still behind the bar. He throws a towel over one shoulder and makes his way toward us.
‘What?’ I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
My attention snaps back to Eve as she commands the dance floor, her voice ringing out with a barrage of insults and profanities directed at the man kneeling before her. The girl hardly ever swears and here she is letting every dirty word that exists loose. The object of her contempt remains frozen in place, one knee pressed to the ground as if he’s about to propose, but his face is twisted in pain; it’s clear he’s already been hurt deeply.
Curiosity and concern tug at me as I turn to Genevieve, needing to know more about this explosive situation.
‘Who is he?’
She takes a casual sip of her beer before answering, ‘I don’t know if she’s mentioned him to you yet, but that is Cayden, her ex-fiancé. I’ll let her tell you the rest because sometimes I share too much and it’s not my story to share.’
My jaw literally drops open. Thank God I backed off the morphine recently because this is a lot of new information all at once. ‘This is Cayden?’
Wow. I knew she was engaged to him but that’s literally all she said before dropping that she didn’t want to talk about it. And judging from the way Cayden’s body language mirrors hers, it’s clear there are still a lot of unresolved emotions between them. My heart aches for whatever pain he put her through.
‘Yep,’ Gen says. ‘The same guy who ripped her heart from her chest and stomped it nearly to death in front of everyone she knows.’
Eve’s voice quivers with a mix of anger and contempt, rising above the pulsing music that fills the room. Her eyes blaze with fury as she addresses her former lover, her words dripping with disdain. ‘And to answer your question, no , I absolutely do not miss you at all because I am happily married to someone way better than you ever were!’ With that declaration, she lifts her cowboy boot-clad foot and forcefully shoves it into his shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground. ‘I hope she cheats, you bastard!’
Now she’s storming toward me, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of fear. She grabs my bicep in a vice-like grip and pulls me through the crowded club like we are indeed a couple, and I am the ‘someone way better’ she just referred to. I’m torn between feeling proud and scared.
‘What is happening right now?’ I manage to ask as we exit the building and continue walking toward her car at an urgent pace.
‘Nothing is happening,’ she says through gritted teeth, obviously still seething with anger.
I struggle to keep up with her speed as she leads us to her parked car. ‘Injured guy here,’ I remind her.
‘Stop lagging,’ she snaps when I fall a few steps behind. ‘We gotta leave before the police are called.’
‘I’m not exactly in a condition to run from the fuzz right now, Evie.’ Finally, I step in front of her, standing between her and her car. ‘Let’s slow down for a second. Take a breath, Jellybean,’ I suggest gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Reluctantly, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply, exhaling slowly.
‘Good, good,’ I say. ‘Now again.’ This time I do it with her. ‘Feeling better?’
‘No,’ she says, her eyes snapping open.
‘OK, well, how about you give me your keys then?’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re not driving me anywhere.’
‘And why not?’ Her voice is sharp, punctuated by the anger that has yet to die down despite the breathing exercises.
‘Because you’ve been drinking, and since I was tasked to keep an eye on your drink, I taste-tested it for poison or roofies and nearly choked to death.’ I glance around at where we are. It’s a mix of bars, restaurants and closed boutique shops. ‘Let’s go for a walk and cool down.’
For a second she only stares at me, then she slaps her keys into my still open hand and starts to blow past me in some sort of speed walk, but I grab her hand and gently pull her back. ‘We’re not racing, just going on a casual stroll, like we do lately, Evie. I’m injured, remember?’
As the fire in her eyes gradually dims, she nods silently, slowing her pace and walking alongside me on the cracked sidewalk, her hand firmly clasping mine. Her breathing is heavy as we walk. So, we continue silently until it seems she’s settled a bit as we reach a small neighborhood park with only a weathered swing set as its play equipment. Eve heads toward the swings, and I follow, sitting on a nearby bench while she settles in the middle swing of the three.
‘I can’t believe he had the audacity to approach me,’ she mutters between each push off the ground. ‘And then had the balls to say he misses me?’ Her voice rises with each word. ‘How can you miss someone you destroyed?’ She swings higher and higher, her skirt billowing with each movement, but she seems unconcerned – her mind is elsewhere. ‘Gawd…’ she groans. ‘Why did I tell him I’m happily married?’
‘I’m guessing because you wanted to hurt him back. Not even knowing the story, and based solely on a side of you I’ve never witnessed before, it seems like he deserves it. Besides, it’s not that much of a lie,’ I say, watching as the moon casts a soft glow on her face. How is she pretty in all lighting?
‘Both happily and married were total lies.’
I laugh under my breath, so as to not piss her off. ‘Well, technically. But I’m not unhappy tonight. For you I am, but being out with you was the highlight of my year. Because of that, I bet we probably did look happy on the dance floor, and we have been married.’
For five years now. That’s a marriage milestone, yet she has no idea. You have to tell her sometime, Foster. Maybe not when she’s tipsy and ready to kill a man in public, though.
Eve scoffs, her voice dripping with disdain. ‘Pfft. It’s all so stupid. Love is stupid.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ I reply, my tone matching hers.
My heart sinks as I realize the gravity of the situation. Cayden broke her heart, and it makes me wonder if this was how hurt she was when we split. Was I just another throat-punchable boy in her life? Is that why she never talked to me about it and only left a note? Did I do the same kind of damage to her that losing her did to me? I can’t even think about that right now, it’s too painful.