I stopped rooting in my drawer. “It’s not funny. It’s cruel.”
“That’s what’s so funny about it.” He drew his hand in from the window dripping rain and wiped it on his shirt, leaving a dark handprint. “The cruelest people we know are from church. Let that sink in.”
I scoffed, turning back to the dresser drawer, and accidentally caught the knot tying my robe on the corner. Swiftly, the knot unwound and my robe fell open.
I drew a sharp breath, stomach plunging, and grabbed for the fabric, pinching the sides back together. I couldn’t even look at him. The sheer humiliation.If he’d seen…
“Ruth.”
Ever’s voice was strangely low. That single word—my name in his deep, lilting tone—changed the temperature in the room. Charged the air.
I turned my head, knowing it was a bad idea.
The sight of him stilled me.
His dark eyes were intense, gaze unwavering, like a predator on a hunt, his muscles tensed. He took a slow, measured step toward me, as if he thought moving faster might send me running.
“What are you doing?” I whispered. My throat felt nearly closed.
He slowly lifted a hand, the same way he did to calm a scared animal. His eyes were trained on my face. “I’m coming closer.” His soft voice found its way inside my chest.
“Why?” I breathed.
He stopped an inch away. Looked down at me with his hair falling over his forehead. I almost shook at our closeness.
Ever and I had always existed in a world of our own. We’d tried to be there for each other, as close as two friends could be. But what was happening now was different. Uncharted. I had no map for it.
“Can I?” he whispered. And though I didn’t know what he was asking for, I dipped my head anyway.
Ever placed his hand over mine—then, slowly, with our eyes locked, lowered it to my side. The robe I clutched fell open, revealing a sliver of skin, the small curve of my breast.
I caught my breath.
He took my other hand and gently lowered it. The robe opened to my shoulders. His eyes took me in, drifting to the soft dip between my breasts. I had no idea what to do. My heart beat so fast I was sure he could see it under my skin.
Slowly—so slowly—he rested his fingertips against my bare stomach. A gentle touch, but each finger sparked a nerve. He skimmed his fingers higher, leaving goose bumps in their wake, until they came to rest between my breasts.
He pressed his hand flat, the warmth of his palm and his fingersspanning my chest. The unexpected rush of feeling made me close my eyes. I’d never been touched like this before.
“Your heart is racing,” he whispered. “I can feel your blood pumping under your skin.”
This, finally, was what Bella had felt in the meadow the moment before Edward kissed her. I took a deep inhale of Ever’s woodsy scent and it was almost like I was there.
“Ruth,” he said gently. “Look at me.”
I opened my eyes. No amount of imagining could have prepared me for the beauty of his bruised face wearing that tender, urgent expression.
“I sold my dad’s garage,” he said thickly. “I have money now. Enough to leave Bottom Springs.”
It was like he’d plunged a sword through my chest. “What?”
His eyes grew brighter, hopeful. “The garage—it sold immediately, for exactly what I asked. I have more goddamn money now than I ever expected. This is our shot to leave. We’ll do it just like we said. I’ll work, you’ll go to school, we’ll travel and read and be happy.”
Somehow it hadn’t occurred to me that Everett’s father’s death would finally give Ever what he needed to leave: freedom, money, and opportunity. How shameful, as an avid reader, that I hadn’t predicted the textbook tragic irony: my fear that Ever would one day leave me had finally come true, and I’d been the very one to engineer it.
I took a step back and knotted my robe tightly. “I can’t.”
His face fell. “What? Why?”
