Not yet.
I won’t kiss her in front of people until she lets me talk to Noah. I can’t imagine what he’d do if someone from town told him I was kissing his sister in the middle of the day—in his wife’s coffee shop, no less.
Nope. I value my life.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “I wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you.”
She’s smiling at me when it happens.
“Eva?”
The voice cuts through the cozy space like a knife.
I look up and see him, slick suit, gelled-back hair, carrying himself like he owns the damn place. My mood shifts instantly. My body tenses as I instinctively reach for Eva's hand, I don’t know who he is, but I don’t like the way he is looking at us.
Eva blinks, caught off guard. “Brandon? What are you doing here?”
Who the fuck is Brandon? Is he the ex-boyfriend? I think he is, she described him as a lame motherfucker, and he totally looks like one.
His smile is all smug and surface. “I’m here for business. What are you doing?” His tone is condescending, the kind that makes my hackles rise. I square my shoulders and stare him down, but Eva beats me to it.
“I’m here with my boyfriend, Esteban.”
The wordboyfriendcoming from her mouth makes something settle deep in my chest. But Brandon’s face tightens.
“Oh, so you moved on pretty quickly. I guess that’s why you haven’t answered any of my texts and you blocked me everywhere?”
Eva lifts her chin, cool and confident. “I thought you’d get the hint when I didn’t answeranymessage or call.”
He scoffs. “I see. So this is the new guy? You trading up from lawyers to... construction workers now? Guess you’ve got a thing for dirt under the nails and secondhand trucks.”
I’m halfway out of my seat, ready to shove this assholeback to whatever rock he crawled out from under, but Eva squeezes my hand tight and beats me to it again.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that, Brandon,” she says, voice sharp enough to cut through his designer bullshit. “You don’t get to question my choices or show up and act like you still have a say in my life. You had your chance, and you blew it. I’m happy now, really happy and it has nothing to do with you.”
Brandon’s smug expression falters. Good.
“Now,” Eva adds, ice in her tone, “if you’ll excuse us, we were in the middle of lunch.”
He stands there for a second, like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He turns and walks away—stiff, silent, and looking like he just realized he’s not the center of the universe anymore.
I stare after him, still ready to throw him through the door if needed. But then I turn back to Eva, and all I can think is how lucky I am to have her.
“You didn’t need me to step in,” I say, stunned and so damn proud. “You were fire.”
She shrugs, playful now. “What can I say? He brings it out of me.”
I reach across the table and thread my fingers through hers.
“He’s not the one who gets your fire anymore.”
“No,” she says, smiling at me. “You are.”
And damn, does that feel good.
I shake my head and mutter loud enough for Eva to hear, “That guy looks like he irons his socks and cries when his gel runs out.”
Eva snorts, nearly choking on her sip of iced coffee. “Stop,” she laughs, swatting at my arm. “You’re terrible.”
