Bridget tears her gaze from mine to look at the phone. “I understand. I’m just a tad confused because I didn’t notice your car in the driveway.”
“Oh ... well, you know Jessica Edwards? Just down the street? We carpool on Mondays, and she left her necklace at my house yesterday anyway, so it was perfect. We both helped each other out. Win-win.”
My heart slows to an almost normal beat. Took Whitney a second to catch on, but I have to admit, the girl is good. Thank fucking God she doesn’t know it’s me she’s covering for.
“I see.” Bridget leans against the countertop, long, cream fingernails wrapping against marble. “Fortunate, indeed. Well, be sure to stay longer your next visit so we can catch up. And, of course, say hello to your parents for me.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks, Mrs. Rutherford.”
They hang up, and Bridget shifts her attention from me to Easton. “I suppose that will have to do for now,” she says, handing him his phone.
He slips it in his pocket and gives a tight nod.
Knowing Easton, he feels guilty for lying. Meanwhile, I’m choking back the breath of relief that tries to whoosh out of me. I have no idea what Bridget would do if she found out what we’ve done, but I know it wouldn’t be good for either of us.
“Eva,” Bridget snaps, moving toward her medicine cabinet. “Why didn’t you say something about your door? I could have had it fixed with one call.”
“Um.” I clear my throat, watching Easton continue to pretend I don’t exist as he dumps his dishes into the sink. “I know how busy you are.”
“Nonsense. It’s my house. If there’s a problem with it, I need to know. I’ll have your door checked by the time you return from school. As for my coffee, I was rather disappointed. Things might have worked out this time, but I expect you to be on schedule. Without the value of your word ...”
The beating of my heart and the weakness in my knees drowns out her voice when Easton crosses the kitchen and walks away.
He doesn’t look back at me.
He doesn’t waver at all.
Easton
Ifinish washing my hands at the bathroom sink, then I shut my eyes and drag my wet fingers through my hair. Exhaling, my nostrils flare with the razor-sharp burn that scales up my chest.
The image of Eva standing in my room, wrapped in someone else’s arms, brands itself in my skull. I’ve seen her with other guys, of course, but that was before. And she’s never let themholdher.
The faucet beside me turns on, and I drag my focus to Zach as he pumps soap onto his hands.
He glances at me. “You all right?”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, pulling my gaze away.
Lying never feels right, especially when it’s to Zach, but talking about Eva has always been off-limits. Keeping her safe and close to me involves a little white lie here and there. But I’d be lying to myself if I said that’s the only reason I keep quiet about what’s between us. Eva’s an enigma, and she’smyenigma. My secret. My lifeline.
“You sure?” he asks.
I side-eye him, and he shrugs.
“You seem tense or something. Just not yourself lately.”
Sliding my teeth across my lower lip, I reach for a paper towel.
“Listen, ah ... I know you don’t wanna talk about that whole thing that went down with your dad, but it could be good for you. Just saying. I got your back.”
I toss the paper towel into the trash can. “Thanks, man. Appreciate that.”
The day after the anniversary party, I told Zach what was said in the storage kitchen, but I kept it brief. I can’t bring myself to talk about my fucked-up relationship with my parents yet, and the only thing—the only person—who usually soothes the sting just cut me so deep I can’t look her in the eye without feeling like I’m bleeding out.
The bathroom door swings open, and laughter filters through the air. Carter, Elijah, and Marco walk in.
“Sup,” Marco says, following the other two toward the opposite end of the bathroom, where they kick back and lean against the wall.
