When you have a moment this morning, I’d like to connect. We should set up a time to meet and talk through next steps.
CJ’s jaw tightened. Next steps. That sounded ominous. Before he could figure out how to respond, another message came through.
Reid Harrington
In the meantime, it would be best if you avoided coming to the stadium until we have a meeting set up.
What was he supposed to say to that? Sure, no problem. I’ll stay away from my job until the internet decides what to do with me. Then, because there wasn’t really another option, he typed:
CJ
Got it. I’m available whenever works for you.
Reid Harrington
Appreciate it. I’ll have my assistant reach out shortly with a time.
CJ stared at the phone, willing Reid to send another message, a supportive message. But his phone went dark and reality set in. This was the exact scenario that had made him run before. This was the fallout that came from wanting an actual life with Evan.
Evan.
He turned to look at his front door. Evan was avoiding him, but he lived three doors down, and CJ had an extra key fob.
“Yeah,” he muttered to himself as he stalked toward the door. “We definitely need to talk.”
The distance between their apartments seemed longer than usual, and every step sounded unusually loud. When he reached Evan’s door, CJ knocked once. Then again, harder, when Evan didn’t answer. He waited, listening for movement on the other side. But it was nothing but silence.
“Come on, Evan.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Evan.
CJ
You have 30 seconds to let me in, or I’m letting myself in.
Still nothing. CJ waited a little bit longer than the thirty seconds he’d threatened, then he pulled out his key ring, found the fob for Evan’s place, and unlocked the door.
“Evan?” he called as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
No answer. The apartment was dark, the blinds still closed, and only one small table lamp illuminated the living room. Everything looked too still, and CJ grew more nervous as he moved farther in. “Evan?”
He stepped into the living room and stopped. Evan was sitting on the couch, head tipped back and turned toward the one window with the blind still up, his gaze fixed somewhere over the harbor. He looked like he hadn’t moved recently and, for a second, CJ just stood there and stared at him.
“Hey,” he said, softer now.
Evan’s shoulders shifted slightly, confirmation that he’d heard CJ, but it took him several long seconds before he turned his head.
“What do you want, CJ?”
CJ took a few steps into the room. “You weren’t answering.”
“Didn’t feel like it.”
“Yeah, I got that.” CJ shoved his hands into his pockets. “You get a text from Harrington?”
Evan clenched his jaw. “Yeah.”
CJ studied him for a second. “You gonna look at me or are we doing this whole conversation with you pretending I’m not here?”
That got Evan’s attention and he turned his head slowly. His eyes were sharp when they landed on CJ. “I’m not pretending anything.”
