Page 25 of Inking My Crush


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His hand smooths up my leg. I place mine atop his, holding tightly.

“I’d be happy with you,” he says. “I know I would.”

“But…”

“Who said there’s a but?”

I pull my hand away. “There is, isn’t there?”

“But the crush. But your age. But Roger.” He moves his hand too. “Is that enough for you?”

I don’t reply, and we continue the journey in icy silence.

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Brian

A Marine can sleep anywhere. All soldiers can, an ability we develop when we’re at war, sleeping on choppers, in Humvees, or the dirt. That’s how I fall asleep outside Kelly’s house, slumped awkwardly in the driver’s seat. I wake to a knocking at the window. It’s Evie’s friend, Kelly. I recognize her dyed hair. When I don’t see Evie at her side, I sit up quickly, heart crashing in my chest, thinking of the last time I saw her.

It’s morning now. Sunlight frames Kelly, so it was hours ago. She climbed from the car, throwing me a look over her shoulder, looking pissed. I wind the window down quickly, thoughts bleeding red like when I confronted Keith at the office. Whenever I think about him calling my woman fat, a war drum pounds in my mind, trying to get me into battle mode and tear the bastard to pieces.

“Hey, Mr. Pearson,” Kelly says.

“Where’s Evie?”

It’s not a smart thing to do, asking this question so urgently. If my objective was to hide how badly I want to be with her, how much she means to me, all of it… I’ve failed.

When Kelly smiles, I sense she knows about me and her best friend.

“She’s okay, just getting ready. I only came out to take out the trash. Have you been here all night?”

“Yeah.”

She narrows her eyes. More implying without saying anything.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?” I say.

When she doesn’t reply, I ask, “Or do you already know why?”

“I think it’s sweet,” Kelly says, “how much you care. Evie’s a great person. She deserves somebody who cares about her enough to sleep in his car overnight. Do you want to know something else about Evie?”

“Sure.”

“She’s always been the mature one since we were kids. She’s always been the sensible one. When she says she wants something, it’s never this childish thing, this impulse. I always know she means it.”

“Are we speaking generally?” I ask. “Because I feel like you’re driving at something here.”

She gives me a significant look. “Just something to think about. Evie will be out in a little while.”

Kelly turns and walks away. I don’t have it in me to be angry with Evie for telling her friend about us. If she weren’t Roger’s daughter, I’d also tell my best friend about us. Roger would have some good advice about this situation, as he always does, if it weren’t for the fact he’d kill me if he knew.

Stepping from the car, I stretch out, rolling my shoulders, my back aching, but a few minutes later, any aches and pains drift away. Evie walks from the house in one of those floaty summer dresses that triggers so much hunger in me. It’s how the fabric rests against her body, outlining her breasts, her thighs, her belly… her belly, which will swell with my child one day.

Soon.

Her smile is the sweetest of all. She pauses a few feet away as if she’s anticipating more coldness.

“Kelly said you’ve been out here all night.”

“I have.”

She bites her lip, my woman driving me wild. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” I growl. “I can’t let anything happen to you… ever.”

“Have you ever heard the phrase mixed signals?” she asks, walking right up to me.

Kissing her would be the most natural thing in the world right now. She’s barely an inch from me, my fingers twitching, attempting to get me to grab her hips and pull her right up against me.

“Yeah,” I say, laughing gruffly. “I get it. I’m being an ass. I must be driving you crazy.”

“Just a little bit,” she murmurs, but she laughs too. “But crazy or not, thank you. I would’ve invited you inside if I’d known you were out here all night.”

“I might’ve cramped your style,” I grunt. “Those young boys wouldn’t want an old man hanging around.”

Her smile is playful, so alluring I almost have to put my hands behind my back to stop touching her. “I kind of like it, you getting jealous over Kelly’s boyfriend and his brother. Don’t worry. The brother has a girlfriend, and even if he didn’t, there’s only one person I’ve ever been interested in.”

I turn away, opening the passenger-side door.

“I shouldn’t say things like that, should I?”

I take her bag. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But it’s the truth,” she says once inside the car. “The men—boys—my age seem so immature. I can’t imagine starting a life with any of them.”

“That’s very forward-thinking,” I comment, trying to keep my voice neutral, as dreams of the future beckon us, Evie holding our child, Roger’s grandchild. “Shall we stop somewhere for breakfast?”

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