Twenty-four feels different.
I stopped acknowledging my birthday a long time ago. After Nessa died, there wasn’t anyone left to force me to celebrate, no one who cared enough to even remember.
But technically today is the day.
It’s funny looking back on when I was just a kid. I’d spend my entire birthday trying to imagine what it was like when I was born; how my mother reacted when she brought me into the world.
Did she cry?
Did she pull me to her chest and feel our hearts sync up?
Was my father there holding her hand?
“How much longer?”
My dad’s gruff voice hits my ears and my shoulders tense at the intrusion. I don’t turn toward him, keeping my eyes locked on the flower pod in my hand. I turn it back and forth, inspecting the small crown at the top and making sure the ends aren’t curving downward, before taking my straightedge blade and slicing a shallow incision into the side.
“Hello, anyone home?” he barks. “I asked you a question.”
He’s in my peripheral vision, lounging against the wall of my greenhouse with his tattooed hands in his pockets and his silver hair slicked back.
“I heard you,” I mutter, cutting another small line.
“And?”
I release the poppy and tighten my fist around the handle of my straightedge as I turn to face him. “And?” I repeat. “Is that the only reason why you’re here? To check on my progress?”
An amused grin sneaks onto his face and I hate the way my heart skips when it does.
“Of course not, Bug.”
The nickname scrapes across my skin.
“I need you at Winkies tonight.”
And just like that, the sliver of hope shatters into a thousand broken pieces, searing through my stomach as they fall. Sighing, I turn back to my poppies and count down from ten in my head.
“Eveline. Don’t ign—”
“About half of them are ready,” I interrupt. “But it will be a week before I’m ready to start the chemical process.”
“A week?”
Another slice, this time on a new bud. “Maybe more.”
“That’s too long.”
“It is what it is.” I shrug, irritated that he’s coming into my space on my birthday and acting like I’m not doing enough. “And I’m not going to Winkies.”
He straightens. “You are.”
“No,” I say again. “I’m not.” My knuckles whiten as I grip the straightedge so tight it cuts off circulation.
He sighs, running a hand over his face and groaning. “Listen, Bug. I’m bringing on a new guy.”
I don’t say a word, instead just continuing the job of lancing the pods, slowly working my way down the row.
“Did you hear what I said?” he asks.
Slice.
“I heard you.”
Honestly, he’s really fucking stupid if he thinks I didn’t already know. I know everything that goes on, how else does he think our business stays afloat?
“I need you there tonight to represent me. Make sure he’s someone we can trust.”
“And if he isn’t?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Then he isn’t.”
What he’s really saying is he wants me to do the dirty work. Again.
I twist my head, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. “Didn’t you already have Dorothy meet him? What’d she think?”
He clears his throat, his face souring. “Dorothy is… smitten. I can’t trust she’s not letting that cloud her judgment.”
My brows lift because this does surprise me. Dorothy loves being the center of attention, but normally she uses and abuses the men in her life, never settling for more than a weekend fling. Whether that’s because she doesn’t want to be tied down or because she’s a sociopath, I’m not sure.
I find it hard to care, to be completely honest.
“Bug. I need you here. Your family needs you.”
My stomach tightens at his words, the way it does every time he says that, and Nessa’s voice whispers in the back of my mind.
“There’s no one like family, Evie, and there’s no place like home. We have to stick together.”
“Fine.”
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
Dorothy appears next to where I’m sitting at the bar, her ruby-red lips pinched.
I look over at her, dipping my fingers into the small bowl of green olives I stole from the garnish tray and smiling wide. “Surprise.”
She opens her mouth but before she can get a word out, Zeke walks up behind her, a grin on his face as his gaze moves from her to me.
“She lives!” He slaps a hand to his chest. “I’ve been tryin’ to get a hold of you all day.”
Out of everyone who works for my dad, Zeke is undoubtedly my favorite. He’s one of the only people I can tolerate, and over the years he’s worn me down enough to actually enjoy his company.
“Been busy.” I pop another olive into my mouth.
“With what?” Dorothy scoffs. “You’ve been hanging out with that loser from your high school again?”
I grind my teeth, trying to rein back my irritation at her constant nagging. She’s talking about Cody, of course. She’s convinced that we’re lovers, and I allow her imagination to run wild because what she thinks of me is none of my business.
The truth is far from that, however. Cody is a computer geek, and I realized when he sat next to me in chem class that befriending him would work out for me in the long haul. So I kept him close and tolerated his company, knowing that he’d be in my corner whenever I need. And good thing I did considering he’s now one of the top hackers in the world. Of course, nobody knows that other than me, and most people agree with Dorothy, thinking he’s nothing but a loser who failed in Silicon Valley and moved back to live in his mom’s basement.
They couldn’t be further from the truth.
Zeke places his hand on her shoulder and nods toward the front door behind me. “There he is.”
His eyes sharpen and he stands just a bit straighter. My eyes flick to Dorothy, watching as she sticks her chest out, her pupils dilating.
“You’re late,” Zeke says.
“I like making an entrance,” a silky voice replies.
A sick feeling drops into my stomach because I know that voice. I’ve had it whispering in my memory ever since it moaned into my ear.
“Brayden,” Dorothy coos. “Hi.”
The coil unravels just a bit. Maybe he just sounds the same.
I spin around on my stool and my breath whooshes from my lungs like a sucker punch to the gut because it’s him. Nicholas.
And he looks… shocked.
Did he lie to me about his name?
He’s got that same black leather jacket he was wearing the night he fucked me against a bathroom wall, and a silver chain slightly peeking out of the neckline of a white shirt.
When our eyes meet, heat floods through my veins, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m remembering how good he felt inside me or because I’m furious he’s here now.
He takes his time perusing down the length of my body and then back up before locking on my eyes again. And then he smirks.
Irritation simmers deep in my chest.
“Brayden,” Dorothy says again.
The name snaps me out of this weird staring contest we’re in, and I let the corner of my mouth tilt up in a sardonic smile.
Brayden. He did lie to me about his name.
He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control. “Zeke. Dorothy,” he murmurs, his focus never leaving me. “And who do we have here?”
I glare and that stupid smirk grows.
Popping another olive in my mouth, I chew then swallow.
His gaze drops to my lips.
“That’s really none of your business, Brayden,” I say.
“Evie!” Dorothy snaps.
Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head. “For some reason, I pictured you blonder, Evie.”
“It’s Eveline.”
His face softens. “Now that’s a beautiful name.”
My insides tighten.
Dorothy laughs and steps forward until she’s angled herself in front of me, reaching her hand out and running it down the sleeve of his arm. “Come on, let’s get a table in the back.”
Finally—finally—he stops staring at me and puts his attention on my sister, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. He nods, placing his hand on her back, allowing her to lead him away, and my shoulders sag from tension I wasn’t even aware I was holding.
Zeke hums, rubbing his hand over his beard as he takes me in.
“What?” I drop my eyes to the bar, grabbing my phone and standing.
He shakes his head. “Nothin’. You got somethin’ you need to say to me?”
My muscles pull tight. “What would you like me to say, Ezekiel? I’m here because dear ol’ daddy doesn’t trust your judgment. Or Dorothy’s apparently.”
My eyes flicker to where she’s scooting in next to Brayden in the booth.
Zeke nods, puffing out his cheeks. “I’ve known Brayden since back in the day. Haven’t seen him in a long time, but he’s good people. And he’s lookin’ for work.”
Tapping my fingers on the bar top, disappointment wraps around my middle. “I fail to see how that’s our problem.”
He smiles, throwing an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his side as we walk to the table in the back. “You and your bleedin’ heart.”
I laugh at his sarcasm and let him lead me to the booth, ignoring the way my bleeding heart speeds when I look up and meet a pair of jade-green eyes.
