There’s a teenage couple waiting to cross the street we’re stalled at. The stoplight turned red and the walk sign appeared, but they’re still standing there, too caught up in each other to notice. I’m jealous of two strangers years younger than me. Because I know what that feels like, and I’m worried I’ll never find it again.
I look away from them, catching Sloane’s concerned gaze in the backseat beside me.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Um…do you really want me to say it?”
No. “Say what?” Denial has been a close friend the past few weeks. I’m not ready to part ways with it yet.
“He broke your heart, Evie.”
The light turns green and the car we’re in starts to move again. I look out the window at the darkened street. “It was always going to end…whatever we were.”
“It was a relationship that you were too scared to call one and he was too idiotic to acknowledge was one.”
I never told Sloane about our final phone call. Never told anyone besides Ben. The short list of people who knew we were ever connected by anything more than my brother and his parents’ choice of home when they moved to Charleston two decades ago—Sloane, Noah, Harrison, and Emmett—all think things are unresolved between us. Tense, but unresolved. They’re not. I don’t need Gray to tell me to my face he’ll never give me what I need. His silence has said enough.
“Sloane, please. I can’t talk about this right now. Not when I’m about to…” See him. Two days ago, I found out from Noah that Gray was back from his deployment.
He’s here.
Home.
Alive.
Silent.
And tonight is Emmett’s birthday party. The timing could have definitely been better. I think he’ll be there, but I’m not certain. My heart is split on what it’s hoping for.
Sloane gives up on conversation with me and starts chatting with the Uber driver instead. I watch the downtown lights continue to flash by, a mixture of apprehension and excitement swirling in my stomach.
I spot him as soon as we walk into Malone’s. Other emotions temporarily drift away as relief smothers me. Part of me didn’t believe it, not until I saw him with my own eyes. I soak in the sight of him greedily, feeling the familiar awareness enter my system like a drug. No matter how I feel toward him, how I feel around him hasn’t changed.
Colors seem brighter.
Sounds sharper.
Even the scents swirling in the air—cologne, liquor, and leather—hit me harder.
Gray has trimmed his hair since I last saw him and grown out a light layer of stubble. In his standard uniform of jeans and a faded T-shirt, he manages to make my heart skip a beat. He doesn’t seem to notice—or care—that I’m here as he continues chatting with Harrison.
The uncertainty and trepidation that I’ve been grappling with for the past forty-eight hours since I learned he was back is completely absent on Gray’s face. He’s sporting an easy smile and sipping a beer.
It makes me want to scream. Cry. Kiss someone right in front of him.
Instead, I paste a smile on my face.
Emmett is acting like twenty-seven is a substantial milestone. It’s not just Noah, Gray, and Harrison here. Guys he knows from high school, college, and work are all gathered around the corner table. Most of them I’ve met before.
Sloane and I are greeted enthusiastically—that might have a little something to do with the fact that we’re the only two females in attendance—by the group. Gray is standing on the left side of the table, so I veer toward the right.
I greet Noah first with a hug and a whispered, “Hey, big brother.”
He smiles, then gives me the concerned look he always seems to wear around me now. I move on quickly.
I don’t have many close friends in Charleston. Noah has always been more social than me. Most of my childhood friends moved elsewhere, and none of my friends from college or medical school live here. I work an insane amount of hours. It feels nice to be enveloped in a group of warm, familiar people. Noah’s friends have always treated me like an honorary little sister, for the most part.
Sloane’s phone rings. “Ugh, I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”
I nod as she heads for the door, then allow my eyes to dart where they want to. I look at Gray. He glances over at the same moment. Our eyes lock. I’m not sure if I have a right to be mad at him for not loving me, but I sure as hell am hurt. The emotion exacerbates when he turns back toward Harrison after a few seconds.
I approach Emmett, not allowing my smile to wobble. “Happy birthday!”
“Evie!” He gives me a warm hug. “I’ve barely seen you.”
“Work has been busy.”
I’ve also avoided him since he saw me crying in his apartment. Things with Noah have returned to normal—or at least we act like they are—but I haven’t been able to shake the awkwardness I feel around Emmett and Harrison. I’m worried they might resent me for causing conflict. Or even worse, pity me. Plus, they walked in on me about to have sex on a kitchen counter. So there’s that.
“Uh-huh. Come on.” He flings an arm around my shoulders and starts guiding me toward the bar. “Let’s get you a drink.”
“I can get my own,” I tell him. “This is your party.”
“Exactly. I can do whatever I want.”
He puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me toward the bar top.
I sigh. “I’m fine, Emmett. This is sweet, but I swear I’m not going to start crying. That was a onetime thing.”
Emmett studies me for a minute. “He hasn’t brought anyone home.”
I look away. “He can do whatever the hell he wants. Whoever the hell he wants.” Not to mention, he could easily go elsewhere to have sex. He even told me that was his preference.
“He can—does,” Emmett agrees. “But he’s spent the past couple of days in his room. Alone.”
“The two of us are done, Emmett. We had our fun. It’s over.” Fun feels like a misnomer for what took place, but heartbreak hits too close to home.
Emmett sighs as the bartender appears.
“What can I get you guys?”
“Uh, Moscow mule, please.”
The bartender nods, then glances at Emmett.
“I’m good, man, thanks.”
“Now, you really didn’t need to come,” I grumble.
“Do you remember Iris Jones?” Emmett asks.
“Um, your high school girlfriend?”
“Yep, exactly. My senior year, she broke up with me right before homecoming.”
I raise a brow. “Is there a point to this stroll down memory lane?”
Emmett chuckles. “I didn’t want to go alone, and sure, I wanted to make her jealous. So, I asked Gray if he thought Noah would flip if I asked you.”
I tilt my head, hanging on to his every word.
He smirks, sensing he’s caught my interest. “He said, ‘No guy is good enough for Evie Collins,’ and then barely spoke to me for a week.”
“You never asked me.”
“I know. Iris and I got back together a few days later.” He smiles. “Look, I don’t know what went down between you and Phillips. I think of you like a little sister, so I don’t actually want to know any details. But…just because he acts indifferent doesn’t mean he is. I’m pretty sure he’s had plenty of practice.”
“I’m done waiting for him to decide if I’m worth it.”
Emmett nods slowly. “Good for you. But…for what it’s worth, I don’t think that’s what he’s trying to figure out.”
“Here you go.” The bartender sets my drink down in front of me.
“Thanks,” I reply, digging through my clutch for my credit card.
“Put it on the Baker tab,” Emmett tells him.
The bartender nods. “Sure thing.”
“Emmett, you don’t need to—”
He grabs my hand and pulls me back toward the table. “I did.”
“Thank you.”
Right as we reach the table, I hear my name being called. I turn to see Chris approaching. Everyone at the table looks at him as he walks over. Sloane’s returned from her phone call. She makes an appreciative sound in her throat.
“Hey!” Chris gives me a hug, which I wasn’t expecting. Although I probably should have, based on the smell of alcohol coming off him. “Fancy running into you here. Small world, huh?”
“Small town, for sure.”
“Ben is on call tonight. He’ll be bummed you were here. I swear, all the guy does is talk about you.”
Does it make me a terrible, vindictive person that I’m glad Gray heard that?
“He and I are just friends.”
“You should give him a chance, Evie. He’s a good guy. Not like the asshole who broke your heart.”
Emmett coughs a laugh. “Sure hope you don’t have to go to the hospital, Phillips. You might get denied care.”
“Stay the fuck out of it, Baker.”
Chris looks between Emmett and Gray. I watch his drunk brain put the two pieces together. “Oh.”
An awkward silence stretches. Anyone here who wasn’t aware of what happened between me and Gray is now caught up on my train wreck of a love life.
“I’m here with Drew and Jessie. If you want to come say hi…”
“Yeah. Sure.” I set my drink down on the table, then follow Chris over to his table and spend a while talking with him and two of my other coworkers. It feels nice to be amid people who are my friends, not tied to Gray in any way.
There’s no sign of Gray when I return to my original table. I’m relieved as I settle on a seat and sip on my drink, half-listening as Noah and Emmett discuss the Sharks’ chances of having a decent season now that they’ve lost Jace Dawson.
I’m relieved when Harrison announces it’s time for the next stop. My cue to leave for the night. Proving I’m able to be around Gray is different from prolonging it, especially in a situation where he could easily entertain female attention.
“Hey.” Sloane reappears at my side as our group gathers up our belongings and begins to migrate toward the exit. “I think I’m going to go home with Jackson.”
“Yeah?” I glance at her, then at the guy who co-owns the gym with Emmett.
“Yeah. He’s nice. We’ll see where it goes. We’re just going to get another drink.”
“Okay.” I give her a hug. “I’ll see you later.”
“You’re sure you’re good?” she asks as we walk outside.
“I’m sure. Go!”
“Okay.” She smiles, then walks off with Jackson.
Emmett, Harrison, and Noah are all standing to the left outside the bar. I flash a small smile in their general direction, then head right. Everyone else seems to have already left. There’s no sign of anyone else from our group lingering outside. I dig my phone out of my bag to call an Uber.
“You good, Evie?”
I glance at Noah, who’s walked over to me. “Yeah. Just heading home.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“No, of course not. I’m fine. Great.” I smile and hope it comes across as genuine.
Noah hesitates. “I know we never really talked about…”
“We don’t need to, Noah. Just because…I just…” I sigh. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t feel like…” God, I can’t even get a full sentence out.
I know Noah feels torn between loyalty to me and his friendship with Gray, even though I’ve told him not to take sides. I feel terrible for putting him in this position. And I hate myself for ever expecting more from Gray.
“I’m just going to go home and pass out. Go have fun with your friends, okay?” I want to ask where Gray is. So badly. But I refrain.
Noah nods slowly, then leans forward and hugs me. “Love you, sis.”
I smile. “Love you too.”
Noah walks away. I turn back toward the street, and then I get the answer to the question I couldn’t voice. Gray exits the bar.
Rather than head for his friends, Gray walks straight toward me. He stops a few feet from me and shoves his hands into his pockets. He’s not relaxed or at ease now. His jaw is clenched and his shoulders are tight. “Hi.”
“For the record, I didn’t call you an asshole.” I figure there’s no point in acting like this is a casual catch-up.
“You should’ve.”
I don’t dispute it; I cut to the chase. “You didn’t call.”
Can you hate someone for not loving you? For confirming something you already should have known? Right now, I do. I hate him. I hate all the other emotions that are flooding me right now. How he still looks like the person I’d forget to cross the road with. I’ve had plenty of time to accept that he’s not.
“I know.” He stares at me.
I stare back.
“Evie.” He says my name like it’s breaking in two, like there’s a big crack between the Ev and the ie, where all the things he’s not saying are lodged.
“You didn’t call,” I repeat, this time with more emotion.
More conviction.
More pain.
More love.
More, more, more.
He doesn’t agree with me this time. He just looks at me, and I get mad. So, so mad. I’m mad at him for not loving me. I’m mad at myself for hoping he would. I’m mad at him for giving me hope.
And all that anger mixes with relief that he’s here—home—and spills out in streams of liquid that dribble down my cheeks. Dammit. I swipe at the tears angrily—harshly.
“Fuck.” The rough edge to the word tells me he cares—just not enough.
He takes a step forward.
I hold a hand out. “Go.”
“Or you’ll tell Noah?” There’s a glint to his eyes that’s a new arrival to this conversation.
He knows everyone knows. I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or relieved or just letting me know I’m fresh out of blackmail.
That glint makes me madder. I want to scream and throw something heavy at him. But Gray doesn’t make promises he won’t keep. And he never promised to love me. Never promised me anything at all.
I turn and walk away. People say walk away like it’s a good thing. Like it’s a strong choice—to not engage in conflict. I’ve never felt weaker.
I kissed Gray inside this bar that night to prove to myself I’d changed. That I was the girl who pursued what she wanted. Didn’t let doubt hold her back. There were moments with Gray where I felt like that girl. Right now, she’s nowhere to be found. I feel like a younger version of myself, coming to the painful realization that just because you develop feelings for someone, it doesn’t mean they will feel them back. That they’re wasted and bottled up with no place to go.
Footsteps sound behind me, but I know they’re not his. Things between us are messy. Gray doesn’t do messy. When he said Charleston is boring, I think he really meant messy. I’ve made it messier.
Noah’s voice murmurs, “Let me take you home.”
I nod. I don’t fight it or pretend I’m okay—because I’m not. I hid a lot from him—I didn’t realize how much until right now, when it’s all spilling out into the open. Things that have nothing to do with Gray—aside from the fact that they’re things I told him and no one else. I hid how lonely I was in Boston. How draining school was. How my friends were all as driven as I was, so no one was ever telling me to take a break. How things with Logan never felt right.
I’m in a daze that makes mundane things disappear. Like how I get from the sidewalk to the car to being halfway home.
It’s a sigh that pulls me out of the fog. That makes me realize he’s about to speak. “Leigh-Le—”
“Can you take me to Mom and Dad’s, please?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Noah doesn’t attempt to make conversation again. I’m the one who breaks the quiet when he pulls into our parents’ driveway.
“I need you to promise me something.”
He searches my face, then nods.
“I need you to promise you won’t let this affect your friendship with him.”
Noah starts shaking his head before I finish the sentence. “Evie, I can’t just—”
“You can. Me and him? It was me. All me. You’ve been best friends since you were seven. That means something.”
“You’re my sister. He can’t expect—”
I cut him off again. “It was sex, Noah. That’s it. We both agreed.”
He winces, then scoffs. “You think I don’t know how you feel about him? How you’ve always felt about him?”
“I hoped I wasn’t quite that transparent, yeah.”
He bangs his palm against the steering wheel. “Dammit, Evie.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” His tone makes it clear he holds someone responsible. And as much as it means to me, I know it’s wrong.
“Neither does he, Noah. He never lied to me. Never. He was thoughtful and sweet, and that was most of the problem. The reality was better than the fantasy.”
Noah sighs. “He’s…different with you. I’ve—I’ve seen him with plenty of other girls. Maybe you should talk to him.”
I shake my head. Not even the slightest twinge of hope appears. “I can’t. I’m so mad at him. And I don’t have any right to be, which just makes me madder. If we talk and he says he’s sorry and asks to be friends…I can’t do it.”
Noah sighs. “Okay. I’ll stay out of it. I won’t say anything to him. But he won’t be getting a welcome home party either.”
I breathe out a laugh. “Sounds fair.” I lean over and hug him before climbing out of the car and walking inside.
My mom is curled up on the couch, watching a movie, while my dad snores in an armchair. She startles when she sees me standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to her chest.
“My goodness, Evie. You startled me.” Her expression creases with concern as she stands and studies me. “You all right, sweetheart?”
I nod and walk over to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions that have seen me through other hard days. “Well, I will be.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Is there more wine?”
My mom smiles before heading into the kitchen and returning with a glass that matches the one on the coffee table.
I thank her and take a long sip, letting the tartness sink in before I swallow. “It’s good.”
“One we tried in Italy. We went to the vineyard and met the sommelier.”
“That’s nice.” I look down and swirl my glass, watching the liquid spin round and round for a few seconds. “I’m in love with Gray Phillips. It started when I first moved back, and it ended, well, I’m not sure when exactly. But it did. End.”
“Oh, Evie. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know—”
“That it was a long time coming?” I give her a wry smile before drinking more wine.
“I had a feeling you felt that way about him, yes.”
I exhale and relax into the couch. “Yeah, we were heartbreak waiting to happen, I guess. I just felt like being home tonight. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course. This will always be your home, Evie.”
I smile at my mom. “Thanks.”
She pats my arm before turning back to the television. We watch the show and drink wine in silence. Familiarity—reminders of the past—can destroy you. Right now, it’s soothing.
