7. Evan
Evan
“Or you can still stay with me.” Panic hit hard and low like a first-line D-Man.
“I really can’t, though, Evan. I mean…I’ve intruded on your life so much.”
“I don’t mind.”
She glanced over at me as we buckled into our seats. “I do.” Her voice was soft. “I know just how hard it is to accommodate someone in your space. How off-kilter it makes you…” She pulled out her phone and pressed buttons.
I settled back in my seat, considering everything Emmy had said…
and what she hadn’t. She’d given me a piece of herself in the coffee shop; something she didn’t tell many people.
And now she was raw and a little scared.
I could relate to those feelings—whatever was happening between us was big, and it was happening fast.
But that didn’t make it wrong, just scarier than something we could control.
And like me, Emmy craved control. Heck, she was doing coursework to control narratives. She might need it more than I did, which was saying something. So, I needed to figure out how to cede more control to Emmy while I continued to break down her barriers.
Lucky for me, Naomi and Adam were still run down, but as soon as I thought that, I was frustrated with myself. I shouldn’t wish people sick; I just wanted more time with Emmy.
And I had it, which meant I needed to make the most of it.
The cleanup was complete after we had enjoyed our dinner of grilled salmon and vegetables in a garlicky lemon butter, a meal Emmy found much more appealing than my Cobb salad the night before.
We’d settled on the couch, and I’d picked up the remote.
“We have our final preseason game tomorrow. I was hoping you’d be there. ”
“I’d like that.”
She didn’t say it was for the fake-dating, just that she’d like to be there. I smiled. “Good. I like knowing you’ll be in the stands, cheering me on.”
“In the box, not the stands. And you’re going to need all the support you can get since half your team is still purging their poor Saturday night choices.”
“Just means the rest of us have to step up. What do you want to watch?”
“Whatever you want is fine.”
“I normally watch sports, and I don’t want to do that tonight. I want to watch something you enjoy.” Because I wanted to know more about her—to be part of her rituals. It might be too early to think long-term, but my mind went there anyway.
My mom used to say, “When you knew, you knew.” Granted, my dad had been an ass, so maybe my mom’s advice wasn’t the best. Still, it was all I had.
“What about a comedy? I know. Let’s watch The Good Place.” She smiled a little, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You remind me a little of Chidi but hotter.”
“Why don’t I think that’s really a compliment?”
“Oh, it is.”
I settled into the couch, nonplussed. She cozied up next to me as she started the show. It was good, and I enjoyed the philosophical elements. But what made the night perfect was Emmy’s head on my shoulder and her delicate hand on my chest—as if we’d been watching TV together for decades.
We’d just started a third episode when the power cut out.
Emmy didn’t panic, but I did. I jumped up from the couch and went to the windows.
“Is that normal? All those dark buildings don’t seem normal.”
“Well, it’s over a hundred degrees outside, and there’s a massive thunderstorm sitting over the city. So I’m going to go out on a limb and say the power grid got overwhelmed. It happens.”
“Right.” I paced. “Okay, okay, okay. The air’s not going to kick on. That means it’s going to get hot. Fast. And I need to take a shower. There won’t be any hot water.”
“It’s a thunderstorm,” she said in a soothing voice. “It’ll pass.”
“But what if it doesn’t?” I asked. “What if this is a cascading infrastructure failure?”
She stared at him. “You do spiral.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I like knowing what’s coming. Unknowns cause issues.”
She softened. “I totally get that. And I’m sorry I teased you. For what it’s worth, my mom used to disappear for days, so I learned really young to be ready for anything.”
Yep. I’d been right when I thought Emmy’s degree choice fed into her home life.
I swallowed, wanting to tell Emmy her mother was full of shit. Instead, I admitted my most profound, painful truth. “My dad used to say if I wasn’t the best, I was nothing.”
The storm rumbled as Emmy took my hands. She tugged me back to the sofa, and our knees touched.
“Then why do you have his Jeep?” Mimi asked.
“Because it’s cool and to remind myself that I overcame his comments. I am the best. Maybe not in the entire league, but in Vancouver, for sure. And I’m better at maintaining his Jeep than he ever was.”
Her eyes widened. “You take care of that car yourself?”
I nodded. “I like to understand how things work. Then, I can fix them.”
“I like to be in control, too,” she murmured. “When I am, then it feels like bad things can’t happen.”
“Like what?” I asked. I placed my hand near her hip, and more of my forearm warmed as she shifted into my embrace. This attraction between us burned hotter with each shared insight and passing minute.
“Like my mom can’t steal my tuition money if I lock her out of my bank account.”
Shock reverberated through me. “That happened? She did that?”
Emmy blinked a few times, seeming to come out of the stupor that had wrapped around us. “Um, yeah.” She sat back. “Which is one reason I have nothing to do with her anymore.”
She shook her head, her eyes refocusing on me. She offered a tight smile. “Sorry about oversharing. That’s in the past.”