Because of Lucy: 2016 Revised Edition (Butterfly Days #1)

by Lisa Swallow

  Evan straightens his shirt and smoothes his hair. “Sorry, Ness.”

  I want to ask why, persuade him otherwise, but he no longer looks at me. It is me. Did Evan challenge himself to screw me and have a pang of conscience at the point he could get what he wanted?

  “So, you’re not interested because I didn’t ask you upstairs?” I ask in a low voice.

  “No. Because I don’t want to do this with you.”

  His words are like a slap across the face. I sit and adjust my dress. “Wow. Okay.”

  Evan glances at my legs, squeezes his eyes closed, and then pulls out his phone. “I’ll call a taxi and get Matt home.”

  My arousal switches to embarrassment, and then anger as he walks into the kitchen and makes a call. A few minutes later, Evan manages to rouse his friend all the while acting as if nothing happened between us. Is he embarrassed too? The suddenness of the change in pace, how he switched off as quickly as he started riles me. The next ten minutes are spent in silence, and I’m on the verge of walking upstairs to get away from Evan. He won’t look at me still. No, I refuse to show him how his behaviour affects me.

  The taxi arrives and Evan’s too focused on supporting his friend and leaves with nothing more than a thanks and good night. I watch from the sofa as the pair leave.

  Twice. The idiot has kissed me stupid twice and walked away. Ignoring how my desire didn’t leave with him, I take my annoyed self to bed. What’s his game? Because I’m damn sure, he’s playing one with me.

  12

  NESS

  Work, lack of sleep, and hangovers are never a good combination. Nor are cringe worthy memories of throwing myself at Evan and him stopping because he’s not interested. Last night replays in my head, distracting me from work. He’s definitely odd. I’m convinced Evan either became pissed off because I didn’t drag him upstairs, or he had a sudden crisis of conscience. Or I’m not as attractive to him as I’d deluded myself. If Evan wanted to see me again, he would’ve asked for my number or given me his. Whatever the reason, I hope I don’t see him again or the smug look I’ll get that he won.

  The six-hour shift drags, and I walk away dizzied, as if I worked a double shift. My headache hasn’t shifted all day, dehydration replaced by stress of dealing with pissed off customers. Is it full moon? The world and everyone in it turned crazy the last twenty-four hours.

  In my lunch break, I pulled my phone out and visited a couple of travel blogs that inspired me to take the last step away from my old life. I’ve a ton of sites bookmarked at home on my laptop and each day my plans crystallise further. There’s more to life than this crap surrounding me, and I’m going to live it.

  As if to reinforce how much better life would be backpacking around Asia, I step out of work into a grey evening. The rain pelts the car park and I rest against a pillar beneath the building forecourt. Why didn’t I park closer?

  “Hey, Ness.” I look over to the person who said hello and blink. Evan sits on one of the benches beneath the brick canopy, holding a metal travel mug and a rueful smile.

  “Evan?”

  “Shit weather, huh?” His thin jacket is soaked and hair damp, and the dishevelled look adds to his attraction.

  I shove a trembling hand in my coat pocket. “Did you take a job here?”

  “You’re kidding, right? I wouldn’t work somewhere like this.”

  “Just hanging with a coffee then?” I ask and indicate his drink.

  “Waiting for somebody.”

  My stomach turns. A few students work here part-time. I guess he’s meeting one of his girls; why else would he take a twenty-minute drive from where he lives and sit in the rain? Maybe this is the reason he stopped last night and Evan has enough respect to sleep with one girl at a time. “Lucky girl.”

  “You think?”

  Two girls pass me and one glances at Evan. I wait for her to approach him but she keeps walking, complaining about the weather. Who’s his type on my shift? Maybe Imogen with the willowy body and bubbly personality.

  I don’t want to know. And I definitely don’t want to get into a conversation about last night.

  “See you later, Evan.” I step into the rain; I’d also rather get soaked than watch what happens next.

  Evan catches up to me. “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “Don’t you want this?” He holds out the mug. The rain trickles off his large hand and I meet his eyes.

  “What?”

  “I’m waiting for you, you idiot.”

  “Don’t call me an idiot.”

  “You’re bloody funny. Can we not stand in the rain?” He indicates the sheltered building and my shoes fill with water as I follow him back through the puddles. “Here.”

  “You drove out here to bring me coffee?” I take the warm cup.

  “Yeah. That okay?”

  “Why do that?”

  “I went to your house to see you and Abby told me you were at work.”

  “You could’ve left your number for me.”

  “I could’ve, but I didn’t.” He steps closer and brushes rain from my face with cool fingers. “I wanted to see you.”

  “Jesus, my head hurts enough.” The rain continues, and I sit on the nearby bench. My stomach fills with familiar butterflies as Evan sits next to me. “You’re a confusing guy.”

  “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.” He grins.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Nicer than misogynist, anyway.”

  I stare at my damp feet. What the hell is going on here?

  “Don’t you like coffee?” He points at the cup. “Are you a tea drinker? Earl Grey or something fancy from a china cup?” I scowl at his teasing, but the friendly eyes and that smile pull me in. “I’ll bring tea next time, but I might spill it if you insist on the posh cup.”

  I sip and shake my head. “Coffee is good. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” We lapse into silence, and Evan rubs his large palms against his damp trousers. “You busy tonight?”

  What? “Um. Yes. No. Not really.”

  “Is that a multiple choice quiz? Do I have to tick a box?”

  “I’m a bit tired after last night.”

  “You do look a bit—” He bites his lip. “Tired.”

  “Crap?”

  “You couldn’t look crap, Ness. You look better when you smile, though.”

  “Smooth, Evan.”

  He rests against the bench. “No.”

  “What?”

  “That’s your answer. No, you’re not busy tonight, and you’d love to see the smooth Evan Hyde who nobly braves inclement weather to bring you coffee.”

  “‘Nobly braves inclement weather’? Very poetic.”

  Evan shrugs. “Okay, drives through the shithouse Northern winter.”

  I smile and he pokes my cheek. “There it is. Come on, Ness. Let me take you out.”

  “So you can kiss me and run away again?”

  Evan watches me and wrinkles his nose. “How about if I promise not to run away this time?”

  “How about you don’t presume I want to kiss you again?”

  The tension is back; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sit with Evan, and not be surrounded by a weird pull to him. He shuffles along the bench, hands in pockets until our legs touch.

  “I don’t presume, I know,” he says in a quiet voice. The look in his eyes stops my retort. “I tried to do the right thing last night and looks like I screwed up. If you really do only want me for my body and not my brains, that’s fine by me.”

  Want him. Does he want me? “Ha ha.”

  He elbows me in the side. “So, where am I taking you? Curry again? Something more sophisticated?”

  My brain finally catches up. Evan drove here just to bring me a coffee. Drove here. To bring me coffee. He’s trying to tell me something I refused to believe.

  “You choose,” I say.

  “Awesome!” Evan wrinkles his nose. “No vodka for yo
u though.”

  “Why?”

  Evan strokes damp hair from my face, and I shiver but no longer because of the cold. “Because it makes you horny.”

  Omigod. I blush and look the other way, but Evan tips my face back to his and silences my response as his lips meet mine. Before I can decide whether to kiss him back, Evan pulls away. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  13

  NESS

  The date with Evan becomes a second. Then a third. My guard against him drops, flattered by his attention and his determination to spend time with me. I never expected to hold intelligent conversations with him, and the snarkiness of our exchanges swaps for banter. He’s a funny guy—in both the amusing and strange sense. Evan shares little about himself; and in an unspoken way, we focus on enjoying the now rather than chatting much about the past.

  Each evening ends without Evan coming home with me. After the last two incidents in my house, and my body’s insane reaction to him, I’ve kept things at a doorstep goodbye. Considering the tension between us and the innuendo we swap, I’m impressed by my self-control, and his. Each time he walks away, I don’t expect to hear from Evan again but always do. He thinks it’s hilarious. I think he’ll get bored. I also know the situation won’t last, because Evan’s effect on me intensifies and each kiss pushes me closer to dragging him inside the house.

  Tonight is date number four and the familiar butterflies swarm inside. Abby sits at the table intent on her phone as I search for my shoes. I look over her shoulder and groan.

  “Abby! Not Tinder again.”

  “What about this guy?” She turns the phone around. The guy onscreen looks uncannily like Matt. I take the phone and swipe left. “Ness! I liked him.”

  “Plenty more fish on the beach.”

  “In the sea,” she corrects.

  “Think about it. They’re all washed up.”

  “Stop trying to be a smartarse, I met a couple of okay guys on Tinder.” She returns to her swiping. “Evan was on Tinder.”

  I tense. Was or is? “That’s hardly surprising.”

  “You and him, that’s bloody surprising.” She pauses. “Are you dating? Like, officially together?”

  Good question. We are; but is this exclusive? Abby’s comment switches my alert system back on. “Not sure. Have you seen Evan around campus recently?” I focus on fastening my shoe.

  “Do you mean have I seen him with anybody else?”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  Abby holds her phone closer to her face, wrinkles her nose, and swipes left. “To me, yes. I’ve seen Evan a couple of times but not spoken to him in case Matt was around. He always has girls around him, Ness.”

  “Around or with?”

  “No idea. Ah!” She turns the phone. “He’s cute.”

  Somebody else with Matt-like features smiles back. I roll my eyes at her. “Come to the party with me. I won’t know anybody there apart from Evan.”

  “No way, Matt lives in the same halls and I bet he’ll be there. I’m not ready to see him with another girl.”

  Since Matt arrived on our doorstep, Abby has returned to her old life but not returned to him. I think something about his weakness bolstered her. Matt has called her every day and she smiles each time she cancels his call. Fantastic she’s moved on, not so great as this means a new set of students invading the house.

  I’m in two minds whether to go to Evan’s party at his halls of residence. A night with a group of students I don’t know well doesn’t appeal, but I’m curious why Evan keeps his student life and me separate. Is he dating another girl too? That would fit the guy who accosted me in the kitchen, but not the attentive one who sends me texts several times a day. Some evenings his phone rings a lot and he ignores the calls while I’m with him, fuelling that paranoia. I see him checking the screen when I’m walking back from the Ladies sometimes, and his expression is odd. Worry? Unhappiness? I’m unsure because he always shoves his phone in his pocket when I approach and returns to nonchalant, smiling Evan.

  There’s definitely something going on beneath the surface with him; he’s not sharing, and I don’t ask. I might not like his answer if I discover what it is. The problem is, I’m falling for Evan, and I need to know the truth. Tonight and a step into the life he’s so far hidden from me could give me some answers.

  “Are you leaving soon?” asks Abby.

  “When Evan arrives.”

  “He’s picking you up? Does this mean you’re staying at his?” Abby’s surprise isn’t well disguised. The halls are on campus and Evan claims he won’t drink so he can drive me home. I laughed at him. We both know that won’t happen.

  “I can take the bus home.”

  “Uh huh.” Abby points at my small handbag. “Don’t forget your toothbrush.”

  I poke my tongue out. I’m not planning to stay with Evan, but I’m not ruling it out either. Holding him at arm’s-length has the opposite effect to what I intended; I want him more and not less. The tension around us when we’re close is almost tangible, crackling, and ready to explode if we go any further than a kiss. Each look and touch filled with promise fuels my attraction; otherwise, why else have I avoided being alone with him since we reconnected?

  * * *

  EVAN

  Ness climbs out of my car and hesitates. On the way over, she’s fidgeted and said little. I’ve missed her this week, craving the peace I have when I’m with Ness, but have I done the right thing bringing her here?

  She’s wearing a short blue skirt, which reaches far enough down her legs to not be too distracting, and a plain top; dressed down but gorgeous to me. Ness wears her long hair loose, framing her delicate features and the warmth spreads inside as she smiles at me. Ness. My girl. Because she is. Ness might not have given herself to me yet in the way girls normally do, but despite the frustration, I’m okay with this. Surprised by myself, but okay. I suspect Ness needs me to give up part of myself first. How long before she discovers I’m not prepared to unguard my heart? We could reach stalemate and fall apart before anything happens.

  Lucy’s new onslaught is a huge reminder why I can’t let Ness in. Lucy thrusts the past firmly into my present and teaches me that nobody can escape what has shaped them. Her daily calls and texts stopped for a couple of weeks, but they have re-started with a new ferocity. The calls have switched from her pleading last week, to the edge of blackmail the last couple of days because I refuse to return to Lancaster. I stopped answering Lucy’s calls because we had the same argument on repeat, and I’m not allowing myself to be pulled in.

  So she switches to texting. Replying to her text in anger when I was drunk the other night has inflamed the situation. Now she’s threatening to come to me instead.

  “Are you okay?” I ask and take Ness’s hand.

  “I was about to ask you the same question. You look tired.”

  “Partying too hard.” I wink at her and Ness looks at her feet. “Only with the guys, Ness.”

  Ness doesn’t respond. Trust is an issue, especially considering the state she saw me in before we became Ness and Evan. A couple of weeks together may not seem long to Ness, but it’s a bloody long time to me. I wrap an arm around Ness’s shoulder and kiss her head, relieved when she relaxes against me.

  “Are many people coming?” she asks as we stroll toward the building. Eight stories high and red brick, the halls aren’t anything special. My room is basic, but it’s not as if I left luxury back home. All that matters to me is the place I live is on campus, allowing me maximum time in bed before class. Plus the proximity to the Student Union is an added bonus.

  “Who knows?”

  “So you won’t know everybody there.”

  “Probably not. I’ll introduce you to the ones I do.” I squeeze Ness’s hand. I probably will know them all.

  These parties were a bi-weekly ritual in the first few weeks as we introduced ourselves and began student life together. I don’t remember how the first few parties ended, but I did
sleep with a couple of the girls. Not always full on sex, but some nakedness, playing around, and waking up in bed together. I’m not bothered if any of those girls are here; life was revolving doors back then and none of us stuck to the same person for more than a night. A few people have settled as couples since, and now avoid our infamous parties.

  Tonight, half a dozen people who live on my corridor congregate in the large common room. Others I don’t know from other parts of the complex are here, which helps. Ness won’t be the odd one out of our group. Some lounge in the comfy chairs, and a couple of girls sit on the rough, carpeted floor, chatting. A group hang around the pool table with beers, and distract each other from shots causing loud protests. As the room fills, a disgruntled couple who were watching the widescreen TV and aren’t part of the evening leave.

  “I recognise some of these people,” Ness says. “They know me as Abby’s uptight housemate.”

  “Now they can see you in relaxed mode.”

  She eyes me with doubt. “You think I’m relaxed?”

  “You will be.” I head to the large table covered in plastic cups, bottles of spirits, and cans of beer and soft drink. “What do you want?”

  “Not sure. Vodka and something.”

  “Last time you drank vodka, you tried to get in my pants. Control yourself this time.”

  Ness’s cheeks turn pink; then she steps closer and surprises me by wrapping an arm around my waist. She tiptoes and whispers, “You want me to control myself?”

  No. “Yes.”

  Ness nods and picks up a bottle of beer instead. “No problem, I’ll lay off the vodka.”

  As she drinks, her eyes shine. Ness does this and I can never be sure if she’s teasing or dropping hints. And I’m confused over what to do. I’ve seen how other guys look at her when we’re out—like Jared is now—and a possessive jealousy grips. I’m damn sure I could get Ness into bed without much effort, and I question myself after each time we meet why I don’t. Have I met somebody I can let in? Partially I’m proving a point to Ness, maybe myself too, that I don’t have to be the guy I’ve morphed into the last few years because I’m no happier hiding behind him as I was before.