Chapter 1 #2
On shaky legs, I stepped away, hiding the roil of my emotions, lust, and want. Longing.
"I have to go," I said inanely. He already knew I had to go. Why wasn’t I leaving?
"Go then. I'll be here when you get back."
His words sounded suspiciously like a promise. They aren't, I told myself as I considered one more kiss, then thought better of it.
If I kissed him again, I'd never leave my apartment, and Julie was waiting.
Grabbing my purse, I headed for the door without another word. Standing at the elevator, I lectured myself.
Be sensible.
This is Evers Sinclair.
He might get bored and wander off before you even get home.
Don't count on him being there.
Don't count on him for anything.
I warned myself, but I didn't listen. I never had where Evers was concerned.
I had no idea what I was doing with him. We were a total mismatch.
From the moment we'd met we hadn't gotten along.
He was bossy, autocratic, arrogant, and an incorrigible flirt. Evers wasn't my type in so many ways. I favored serious guys, usually cute, but not hot. Guys with normal jobs and normal lives.
I sound exciting, don't I? But that's the thing, I'm not exciting. I'm a perfectly normal girl with a perfectly normal life. At least I was, until the day Evers swept in and turned everything upside down.
I was at a conference in Houston, kind of bored, kind of having fun, looking forward to the weekend when I was expecting a visit from my best friend, Emma.
Evers had appeared out of nowhere, claiming that Emma was in danger and she needed my help. If I’d heard that line from anyone else I would have laughed him out of town. Especially since he refused to tell me what the trouble was or how she needed my help.
I'd known, the way best friends always know, that Emma was involved in something, but that didn't mean I trusted Evers. Still, I'd gone with him, all the way to Atlanta, bickering the whole time.
I couldn't help myself. He was so high-handed. He strolled in and expected me to do his bidding just because he said so.
It hadn't helped that every time I looked at him, my knees went weak.
Back then he'd worn his hair almost military short, and it left every inch of that chiseled face on display, from his dark brows to his ice-blue eyes, his sharp cheekbones and full lower lip.
His face is enough to make a girl swoon. His body kicks the whole package up a notch. I didn't have to see beneath the suits to know that Evers Sinclair was sex on a stick.
So out of my league. So very much out of my league.
We'd bickered and flirted, and that had been it.
Until Emma's wedding.
A little too much champagne, an argument over the wedding cake, and before I knew it, I was backed into a wall behind an arrangement of potted plants, Evers’ hand on my ass under my bridesmaid’s dress.
I could blame the champagne for falling into bed with Evers, but that would be a flat-out lie. It had nothing to do with the champagne and everything to do with Evers Sinclair.
Damn, that man knew how to use his hands. And his mouth. And everything else.
We'd spent Emma's wedding night locked up in my hotel room. And the night after. And the night after that.
Then I'd flown home, he'd left town on a job, and I wrote off Evers Sinclair as a wedding insanity mistake.
Maybe not a mistake.
It's hard to call sex that good a mistake.
And what's wrong with having a fling every once in a while? Every girl should have a fling. Except I was a serial dater. I didn’t fling. One-night stands seemed like too much work for not enough payoff.
With Evers, it was all payoff and no work. When I bumped into him again a year later at a client’s party, my body went on full alert the second my eyes met his.
I'd convinced myself I'd forgotten Evers, but my body hadn't. Not for one red-hot second.
Evers had his own gravity, a magnetic pull that drew me across the room, demanding my attention even when I was in the middle of a client's party. At the end of the night, he’d been there, lounging against my car, waiting.
I'd invited him home, we fell into bed, and our non-relationship was born.
He showed up every once in a while, knocking on my door with no notice, and I always let him in. Every now and then, I’d text, and he'd come. I’d never been to his place and wasn't exactly sure where he lived. Somewhere in Atlanta.
I was in Marietta, northwest of the city. Close enough that we could have seen each other more often, but neither of us offered or asked for more.
I didn’t ask because I knew I wouldn’t get it, and Evers because he didn't do more. More wasn't his thing.
Julie was waiting in front of my building, the car running, music blaring through the open windows. She was ready to party, but she didn't miss a thing. A grin bloomed on her face when she saw me.
I snapped my seatbelt into place as she said, “Your lip gloss is smudged."
"I still have lip gloss?" I lifted a hand to wipe my lips. I'd have been shocked if Evers hadn't kissed every speck off my lips. I pressed my knees together at the thought.
Down girl, tonight's not about you. Not until you get home. If he’s still there.
Julie stared at me for a minute before her eyes flared wide and she glanced at my building. “Is he up there? Did he come by tonight?"
She thought my weird thing with Evers Sinclair was the stuff of fairytales. Evers Sinclair of the Atlanta Sinclairs. She imagined he’d fall in love with me, and we’d live happily ever after in a little mansion in Buckhead.
I gave a mental snort. Not likely.
I couldn't see Evers settling down, and if he did, it wouldn't be with someone like me. Someone normal. Average.
He'd find some society princess or a former model. An actress. Somebody with flash. With flair. Someone exciting enough to fit into his life.
Evers Sinclair came from a long line of Atlanta Sinclairs who, a few generations back, had founded the premier security agency in the country.
They protected royalty. Celebrities.
Designed security systems that put Fort Knox to shame.
He was James Bond come to life, from the perfectly-tailored suit to the Aston Martin. I wasn't the first to get caught in his orbit, and I wouldn't be the last. I was just enjoying the ride.
I shook my head at Julie. "He's up there, but don't worry about it. Tonight is about you."
Julie hesitated before putting the car in gear. "Are you sure? I mean, we can go out any night. He hasn't come by in a few weeks, and—"
"I'm sure," I insisted, irritated that even Julie thought the world should stop for Evers Sinclair. "If he wanted to know if I was free, he could have called. He shows up, he takes what he gets. Tonight is for you. He can wait.”
Julie leaned over and threw her arms around me in an awkward hug, considering our seatbelts. "You're the best friend, Summer. Most girls would have ditched me for a hottie like Evers Sinclair."
My libido bitched at me when I said, "I'm not most girls, and he'll be there when I get home."
I hoped.
I really, really hoped he’d be there when I got home.