“You have a plan for getting through all this dating shit with her?”
Ice freezes my veins, shocking my system in a cold panic as Eli’s question wafts around the corner.
My footing slips, and my back slides further down the wall before I catch myself. A bevy of pebbles knocks loose from the sudden shift and clatter to a rest in front of me. Fuck.
I glance at the corner, hoping my commotion didn’t attract their attention, relaxing slightly when the shadows don’t draw any closer.
The whine of an ill-timed ambulance drowns out most of Liam’s response but straining my ears, I pick up the words, “don’t fucking know” and “get her to trust me and finally get that damn wall down so I can...” Can what? Can what? The ambulance fades, the wordstormentandlike the pasthitting my ears with a deafening blow.
“Good luck with that.” Eli laughs. “I think she might actually kill you this time.”
“Hasn’t happened yet.”
Who’s the naive one now?the smug, younger doodle version of myself snarks in my brain.
“But he changed,” I whisper under my breath. “He bought us pastries. Multiple pastries.”
Chatter from inside The Quays swells and then fades behind the heavy oak barrier while the sounds of the city trickle back in. Training my ears, I search for a calming sound to cling to, narrowing in on the distant accordion melodically playing “La Mer.”
Calm fails to find me, and my breath grows more erratic with each passing moment. Giving up on serenity, I rely heavily on the wall behind me for emotional support.
Fuck—and I cannot stress this last part enough—me.
How am I allegedly an adult and still falling for the same bewitching behaviors seventeen-year-old me did?
A yogurt cup rendered me undone, for Pete’s sake.
And it wasn’t even flavored.
It’s just—
What psychopath buys a woman copious amounts of pastries if they’re going to screw them over?
“That ass!” I cry, puffs of frustration drifting away with what little peace I gathered.
Kicked gravel rolls across the alley’s entrance. Liam’s long ominous shadow grows closer, strolling along the sidewalk.
Merde.
He peeks around the corner. Light cascading down from a lamppost illuminates the befuddled expression on his face, and I press further into the shadows.
Come on, emotional support wall and obscurity, please don’t let me down.
“Evie?” he whispers in the dark.
My insides churn as his broad figure nears in a few short strides.
Clearing my throat, I step from my shrouded darkness, managing a tiny unconvincing, “Oh—hi.”
“Uhm, hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his head and glancing over to the corner where he and Eli were talking. “How long have you been back here?”
“Not long.”
His shoulders relax, and a sense of relief washes over his features.
Oh, no. Your plan’s still busted, Wonder Boy.
“I mean, I wasn’t—I was already—” I ball my fist at my side to hold back a tremor while an odd mix of rage and disappointment spirals inside. I wanted to give him a second chance, truly. But he’s still the same pain in my ass he always was; he just wears suits now.
