God fucking dammit. Heath was right.
“Heath and I aren’t really together.”
He braced himself for a dagger in the kidneys. The laughter caught him totally off guard.
“Oh, hell yes! Liv owes me money!”
Blinking, he sat back against the wall and watched her wiggle through a celebration dance.
“‘Scuse me?”
Her smile held an evil glee he’d have found off-putting, if he didn’t already have enough to worry about.
“I told her day one that you two were faking it. I even had Gracie dig up the reservation details and show me the screw-up they’d ‘fixed.’ Liv wouldn’t hear it. Said you two were too obviously gone for one another and the chemistry was too strong.”
He shifted uncomfortably and waited for her to regain her composure for the second time. “And you disagree?”
“Not about the chemistry. That’s completely true, and I’m glad you two finally figured it out, because I was so cheering for you.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“Evan, honey. You two were so awkward during the first week, and neither of you answered questions correctly if you both weren’t in the room. If you’re going to fake a relationship, keep one another in the loop on what’s said. Dumbass.”
He wanted to laugh. If only he’d caved earlier so Heath could have witnessed the reveal. Evan imagined his reaction to Izzy’scelebration and managed a hoarse chuckle before panic choked him.
Isabella nudged him with her shoulder. “Is that why you’re in here being melancholy?”
He shook his head and took a deep, steadying breath. “No, I was checking messages and… let’s say my wedding fiasco is no longerthe Bleat’stop news.”
“Your wedding fiasco?” Her eyes were wide with confusion, and he let her sit with it for a minute, because he needed to think. Except he couldn’t think, because he didn’t have enough details to work with, so instead he concentrated on resisting the urge to run screaming into the sea.
In the end, he went with show versus tell, handing her his phone with the post brought up. He’d skimmed it, and that was enough to verify it was just as scathing as he’d expected it would be. No surprise, really, since his youngest brother was a not-so-silent funding source. There were very few cookie jars his siblings didn’t have their hands in, which made existing difficult, even while being outside their orbit.
“Oh my God, that wasyou?”
The beauty of being a publication by, for, and about members of the socially obtuse was knowing all about libel and slander and having the means to avoid it. They never named names, but they didn’t have to. Everyone above a certain tax bracket knew whoLittle Orphan Evviewas, but there was enough plausible deniability to skirt legal consequences.
“The very same,” he confirmed, bowing at the waist from his seat.
She bit her lip and covered her mouth, but he heard thesnerkbefore she cleared her throat and composed herself. “So, if that isn’t the latest gossip, then…?”
“I think my father knows about Heath. Abstractly, anyway. I need more information, but I can’t bring myself to look.”
She sobered immediately. “Evan, I don’t know as muchabout your family as Liv and Nate do. How bad are we talking here?”
It was his turn to laugh, and the hysteria was authentic enough to send her sliding back a foot.
“My father has a list of faults that’s long as fuck, and you can bet your assbigotis in the top five.”
“Aren’t you estranged? What do you care?”
“Loopholes,” Heath answered from the doorway, and Evan went back to staring at his shoes. This was not how he’d wanted the night to go.
They were supposed to celebrate their newfound friendships, then return to the villa and continue the celebration of his even newer sexual interests until the sun came up. He’d wanted to fuck each other senseless until they both forgot tomorrow was happening, because he already knew there wasn’t a way to live to his list with Heath in the picture.
He sensed Heath knew that too. There was no mirth in his eyes, and the warmth Evan had grown fond of basking in was tepid at best. He was already miles away and rebuilding walls.
“What does he have over you?”
