AllFreeNovel
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Zahra: It sure doesn’t look good.
Me: I know.
Zahra: Question is, do you trust him or not?
Me: I’ve known him for exactly a week. But yeah, I do. He’s a straight up guy so far as I can tell. And this is hurting him, bad. You should have heard him talk about it. The man sounded absolutely gutted. The way his teammates have turned on him and everything. They’re like a family to him.
Me: On the other hand, I haven’t always displayed the best judgement when it comes to men. The evidence is damning.
Zahra: Girl, we’ve all been there. Each and every one of us messes up sometime. And usually more than once. What does your head tell you? More importantly, what does your heart tell you?
Me: It tells me there’s every chance I’m in over my head when it comes to this man.
Zahra: That’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Me: How so?
Zahra: As I recall, your heart didn’t have a damn thing to say about Sean. Nada. Nothing. Not a peep. At least it’s paying attention this time.
Me: True. Even from the mandatory six feet away Evan Sparks has managed to get under my skin. He’s a dangerous man. I’ve got to get off messenger. It’s time to call Mom to see how Dad is going. She’ll only let me call at designated times twice a day, so I don’t drive her crazy checking up on them. Fingers crossed his temperature has come down.
Zahra: He’ll be in my prayers. I’m here if you need me. Keep the pages coming. The story is fun and that’s what people need right now. A little lightness and hope.
Me: xxOnce I’ve called my parents (Dad is doing better) and prepared Evan’s treat, I pick up my cell and dial Evan’s number. I’m standing behind my closed front door so I can hear everything that happens. I’m a little overexcited. So? Sue me.
“Sexy Sadie.” He all but purrs.
My skin immediately turns to gooseflesh. How the hell does he do that? “Evan, you have a delivery. Go check your front door.”
“Do I now?” The sound of his bare feet against the polished wooden flooring echoes through the quiet of his apartment. “How’d your work go today?”
“Excellent, thank you. But even better, my dad’s fever broke.”
“Honey. That’s great news. You must be so relieved.”
“Yes, I am. So, we’re celebrating.”
I can hear his door opening followed by a low chuckle. “Well, now. You’ve been busy. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be hearing from you again.”
“What? Why not?”
He sighs. “Because of what I told you, about the whole fucking mess my career is in. You barely know me. Why the hell should you trust me to believe I’m not cheating the system and taking drugs when some of my oldest friends have turned their backs on me over it?”
“You’re right, we haven’t known each other long. And maybe this is just a fling, a fun time between two consenting adults. Maybe when the world starts turning again, we’re going to find we’re not the least bit compatible and this was just a temporary isolation type thing. A Band-Aid to help get us through this situation.” I pause and take a deep breath. Just the thought of this being a bust hurts more than I anticipated. Those pesky damn feelings again.
“But, Evan. I’ve seen you out on that balcony almost every day working your ass off to keep fit and strong. I can’t even imagine how much time you spend on the treadmill and bike in Jake’s spare room. I’ve seen how you eat clean and look after yourself. Most importantly, I heard in your voice how much this has hurt you. How wrong this all is. Not only do I believe you, I believe in you. Okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.” His voice comes through both on the cell and more quietly down the hallway. We’re so close, but not close enough. And the man needs a hug. I can tell. What he’s going through is awful. That I can’t be with him to comfort him sucks.
“Now pick up your food and take it inside while it’s still hot.”
The door to the neighboring apartment snicks closed. “Thank you for the beer. Without sounding like an ingrate, are you sure what’s in this bowl is food? Because it doesn’t look like food.”
“This is as close as I get to cooking, buddy.” I settle on the sofa, my own meal already set out in front of me. “I even did a side salad for you. You’re welcome.”
“Sprinkling parsley on top of orange macaroni isn’t a side salad, baby.”
“Close enough.”
“This came out of a box, didn’t it?” he asks, but I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Two boxes, actually. No expense spared. A toast,” I announce, picking up my vodka, soda, and lime. “To our families’ health and to us.”
