Broken

by Lisa Edward

  I turned my head, tears blurring my vision.

  “Oh, Evie.” He held my hands, squeezing them gently in his, his thumbs stroking my knuckles. “From past experience I know you probably won’t remember half of what I’m about to say, which is why I feel comfortable saying it. I came here tonight to bring in the new year with you, Evie. I had given up that this coming year would be one that I would even want to welcome, but meeting you has changed all that. It’s given me hope and it’s made me want to fight. You won’t understand what that means, and that’s fine.” He lifted my hand, placing it over his heart. “But I want you to know that there’s an island in here for you, and it’s one I want to spend a lot of time on.”

  I tapped my chest. “You’re in here too.”

  My head was swimming and I suddenly felt hot and clammy. Standing, I just managed to lean over the railing as tequila came flooding out, burning my throat.

  “Now I know you definitely won’t remember anything I just said.”

  My legs buckled, but Adam’s arms were there to catch me. One hand went to my hair, pulling it back and holding it as the next wave of nausea hit me. My body and mind weren’t connected as Adam led me back inside.

  “I’m putting Evie to bed. I think she’s had enough merriment for one night.”

  “I’ll do that,” Angie slurred, attempting to stand.

  “No. I don’t wanna go to bed with you. I wanna go to bed with him,” I mumbled.

  “Did he grovel, hon?”

  “I’ve got an island, Ang.”

  “That a girl. Go get him, ya little porn star.”

  Adam’s chest vibrated and I’m sure he was laughing his ass off, but I couldn’t turn my head to check.

  We made it to the bathroom before I had to dive for the toilet, dry retching. The tiles were hard and cold beneath my knees as my head rested on the seat, but I couldn’t move. I was positive I was going to die.

  Adam steered me to the floor, where he had laid a quilt for padding. He sat leaning against the bath while I gingerly placed my head in his lap and he tucked the quilt around me. Sleep began to consume me as he stroked my hair tenderly.

  “Sorry I spoiled your New Year’s Eve,” I said softly as my eyes closed and I lay perfectly still to stop the room from spinning.

  “You didn’t spoil anything, Buttercup. There’s nowhere else I would rather be.”

  WEEK FOUR

  ADAM WALKER—JOURNAL ENTRY

  Irony—Evie was sure I’d left her to be with Anna, when really all I’d wanted was to get back as fast as possible to be with Evie. She’d said she was fine with me going, but when I got back I found she really hadn’t been. For a moment there I was worried I’d lost her, my heart banging out its haphazard beat in my chest. She’d been pissed, both figuratively and literally.

  Anna came through with the documents and I finally feel like I’m on the right track. She wanted to catch up in Philly and I know why, but for the first time, it didn’t interest me—she didn’t interest me. I gave myself a satisfied pat on the back as I drove past her office and didn’t even slow down. She’s not the one I want to be my last.

  EVIE RIVERS

  I have got to stop drinking. My last fuzzy recollection of New Year’s Eve was lying on the bathroom floor, the room spinning and my stomach churning as Adam stroked my hair.

  Adam.

  He came back, and although I can’t recall the conversation on the deck all that clearly, I have an overwhelming sense that he chose me, and that my bliss bubble has been repaired. Closing my eyes, I tried to replay what Adam and I had talked about. One thing stood out, bringing a tear to my eye. I had an island in his heart. Not only was he thinking of me with affection, but he had also recalled what I’d told him about Mimi and shown me he’d been listening by using her analogy.

  Flashes of penises came to mind, making my heart skip before I disappointedly remembered none of them were Adam’s.

  Angie, Patrón, and porn—that was a lethal combination.

  I chuckled, fully expecting my head to pound, but I was surprised that my skull didn’t echo with the sound bouncing off my dehydrated brain as it usually did. I guess vomiting all the alcohol back up had been a good thing.

  Oh that was right, there’d been vomit, and a lot of it.

  As I ran my hand over my body, I tried to remember how I’d gotten undressed and into bed. Nope, no memory of that particular event whatsoever.

  The bed compressed as someone climbed in behind me, wrapping a muscular arm around my waist.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead. How do you feel?”

  My eyes closed as the contours of his body pressed against me. Adam’s voice was so smooth and sensual. I’d missed it over the last couple of days. Soft kisses traced my shoulder blade, sending a wave of goose bumps down my spine. I relaxed, allowing him to pull me closer to him, my butt wiggling into his hips until we were spooned perfectly.

  “Did you undress me last night?” I asked with a smile.

  “More like early hours this morning. I had to wait until you’d emptied your stomach before I could move you to tackle your clothes.”

  I didn’t know how I felt about that. I wish I’d been sober and awake to enjoy it. Picturing the scenario of Adam unbuttoning my jeans and slowly sliding them down my legs gave me a shiver. I wondered if he had been turned on as he uncovered my body, layer by layer.

  “So you took all my clothes off except for…” I reached down, double-checking my panties were still there. “Except for one item.”

  Adam laughed. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t put you to bed dressed. You’d puked all over yourself.”

  I cringed. Any images of a sexy unveiling went poof from my mind.

  “And on my jeans, and the quilt you were lying on.”

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Even my bra?”

  Adam’s face rubbed against my back as his hands ran over my stomach until he reached my breasts and cupped them. “No, the bra coming off was for my benefit. But don’t worry, I didn’t take advantage while you were unconscious.”

  Something felt…different. Adam was kissing my neck, but there was no tickle.

  I turned to look over my shoulder. A fresh-faced man grinned back at me.

  “Adam, where’s your beard?” He still looked devilishly handsome, only five years younger.

  “I shaved it off.” He ran his hand around his smooth jaw. “It was okay to look at, not so good for kissing you, though.”

  I couldn’t believe he’d gotten rid of his beard because of my chafing. If my mouth didn’t feel like a trash can, I would have tried the new Adam out.

  Adam had a wicked grin on his face. “Besides, I figured if you could defuzz, then so could I.”

  What?

  He chuckled cockily. “I thought a raccoon had climbed through the window and gone to sleep in your waste basket in the bathroom; then I realized it was your beaver, ripped out on wax strips.”

  My cheeks flared hot, but Adam was laughing his ass off.

  “I’m hoping you went through all that pain for my benefit. That I’ll get to see, and touch…and taste.” He bit his lip suggestively.

  I nodded as heat radiated down through my body due to the images Adam was invoking.

  “So shaving this was the least I could do.”

  “Annabel said you wouldn’t shave it off for her,” I commented with a grin.

  Adam brushed the hair from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. “Don’t give Abannel, as you called her last night, a second thought.”

  I laughed at my name mix-up.

  “Remember when we first met, I told you that I’ve known some stunning girls who have been really conceited and ugly on the inside? Well, she’s queen of the conceited, cold-hearted bitches.” His fingertips tickled up the side of my body, making me giggle.

  “So I’m the other type of girl? The regular girl?”

  “No, baby, there is nothing regular about you.” His lips brushed my cheek. “You are a category
all your own. You are beautiful and sexy and sweet. You have looks to rival Annabel’s and a heart of gold.”

  My heart swelled. I’d never met anyone like Adam. I’d never had anybody straight out tell me what they thought of me, and it gave me such a confidence boost, to think someone as amazing as Adam thought so highly of me.

  We snuggled together, wrapped in each other’s arms. Adam was dressed only in his painting jeans, the button on them torn off so they sat low on his hips. My hand tenderly ran up and down his abdomen, over his chest and down his arm, and he squeezed me tighter. As my fingertips descended the peaks of his abdomen once more, continuing down to his jeans, a groan rumbled in his throat.

  As his face brushed against my hair, he said hoarsely, “You can keep going if you like.”

  My heart rate sped up instantly. With a slightly firmer hand, I ran the tips of my fingers under the band of his jeans.

  “Hmm, no underwear,” I observed.

  “You’re lucky I’m wearing jeans. You looked so inviting lying here I got hard just looking at you. I was tempted to slip in beside you while you were sleeping.”

  I looked up at his face to see if he was teasing me.

  He gave me a playful wink. “But I want you to make the first move, Evie. When you’re ready, just let me know. You can either tell me or just tackle me to the ground, rip my clothes off, and slide on. Either one will do.”

  There was a knock on the door, before an extremely hungover Angie poked her head into the room.

  “Wow, y’all look better than I feel.” Her hair was sticking up on one side, makeup smudged under her eyes. “I guess waterin’ the plants over the railin’ with all that alcohol last night was a good thing.”

  “It has to come out somehow.” I laughed. “I’m surprised you remember much of last night.”

  She tapped her finger to her temple. “I recall everythin’ when I’m drunk, which is sometimes a curse, especially when I’ve had the beer goggles on. Sometimes I wish I could forget.”

  Entering the room, she gingerly lay on the bed beside me.

  “Ya smell like vomit,” she told me, screwing up her nose.

  I turned to Adam for confirmation; he just shrugged and kept cuddling me. “You smell good enough to eat.”

  “No, seriously, I think ya threw up in your hair.” Angie grabbed a stuck-together clump of curl. “Look, that’s gross.”

  Adam laughed as he sat up. “Only a true friend would tell you when you stink and look gross. I’m going to go run you a bath, baby.”

  “Thanks, baby,” Angie said, cheekily, “but we haven’t known each other long enough for you to come in with me.”

  Adam entered the bathroom, laughing and shaking his head.

  I shampooed my hair three times just to be certain all the grossness was gone. Then I drained out the dirty water and refilled the tub, soaking in the heady floral oils until the water turned cold.

  Adam didn’t come into the bath with me and I have to admit, I was a little disappointed. He did poke his head in the doorway a few times to make sure I hadn’t dozed off and drowned, or at least that was the excuse he gave. Every time he came in, I was so close to inviting him to join me, but I couldn’t find the words. I even tried to imagine he was my fireman, Mac, and I was the reporter, Stacey, hoping that role-play would get me over my apprehension. I imagined Stacey seductively reclining in the bubbles, her long slender legs resting on the edge of the bath as Mac came in. He would saunter over to Stacey, running his hand up her leg and under the water as she subtly gave him enough space between her thighs to reach his end goal.

  But this was real life, not a book, and that just wasn’t me. I didn’t have a seductive bone in my body, and I couldn’t pretend I knew what to do when I’d never had anyone look at me with desire in their eyes the way Adam did. Truth be told, I didn’t want to blow it. To turn something that should be romantic or sexy into something corny and make him laugh would be soul destroying. So I played it safe. Every time he came in, I sank down a little bit farther under the bubbles and told him I was fine.

  By the time I climbed over the edge of the tub, I was satisfactorily pruned. As I made my way to the living area, a familiar aroma hit me, bringing tears to my eyes.

  At first I thought it was Angie cooking, but when I saw her sprawled on the sofa, I realized Adam was playing chef again.

  “I hope I’ve done this right,” he said as I entered the kitchen. “I’ve never cooked hog’s jaw, black-eyed peas, and greens before.”

  Wrapping my arms around his waist from behind, I squeezed him tight, resting my head against his back.

  “I can’t believe you’re cookin’ a traditional New Year’s Day meal from the South. How’d you even know ’bout this?”

  “I’ve done my research, Buttercup.” He spun in my arms so we were facing each other. “Isn’t it bad luck if you don’t eat these things today?”

  I nodded and smiled at this wonderful, thoughtful man.

  He kissed my nose. “So we don’t want any bad luck.”

  Surprisingly, I was ravenous. I guess emptying my stomach the night before had given me a wicked appetite. I stuffed my face, having second and third helpings as Adam reclined in his chair, his stunned expression showing how amazed he was at how much I could put away.

  Angie picked at her plate. “Ya know, I haven’t lived in the South for nearly six years, so I don’t think the superstition applies to me anymore.” She picked up one pea on her fork and forced it into her mouth. “I mean, isn’t there a statute of limitations or somethin’?”

  “Do ya wanna risk it?” I asked, cleaning my plate. “‘Cause I sure don’t.”

  The cogs ticked over in her head as she weighed up her options. Resignedly, she took a bite of each component on her plate, then pushed it aside.

  “I think I need some fresh air.” Angie stood, giving me that “come with me” look that I knew so well. It was the look she used when we were out and she wanted to talk about a guy. We’d go into the bathroom and whatever had been bottling up would come spilling out.

  I shook my head at her. I didn’t want to talk because I knew it would be about Adam.

  She enhanced “the look”, her eyes flaring.

  I glared back, my lips pursed.

  “Wow, you two are having a whole conversation without saying a word.”

  Rolling my eyes at Angie for being so obvious, I glanced over at Adam.

  He was smiling, watching the performance we were putting on. “She obviously wants to talk to you about something, so why don’t you two get some fresh air while I clean up?”

  We shrugged on our coats and walked down to the water’s edge in silence. As soon as we were far enough away from the house that she was confident Adam couldn’t hear, Angie started.

  “What happened to bein’ focused on the book and swearin’ off men, Evie? I mean, last night was one thing—you deserved an explanation and maybe a little fun—but as soon as he comes back and gives you that come-hither look, you turn to mush and it’s as if nothing happened.”

  We stopped walking and perched on my favorite rock that was sheltered from the chilling wind. “It wasn’t what I thought. He didn’t go to see her in Philly.”

  “You said when she was here you saw him getting dressed.”

  Gazing out into the distance, I nodded, unable to meet her eyes.

  “So why was he undressed? Did you ask him?”

  I turned to face her. “No, I didn’t ask, but I believe that nothin’ happened and I believe that she wasn’t the reason he went to Philly. He promised me he didn’t even see her while he was there.”

  “What’d he tell ya?”

  It was a bit fuzzy, but I could piece most of it together. “She had to give him some documents, which is why she was here. He said he had an appointment, which is why he had to leave.”

  I could tell from her face that she wasn’t buying it. “It’s plausible. I mean, if they had property together, maybe they had to tie up
loose ends. Charles and I will have documents to sign. It’s possible.”

  She shrugged at my explanation and I hoped that would be the end of it.

  “So why was he half dressed if she was bringin’ him documents?”

  Now it was my turn to shrug. “Maybe she had to sign somethin’ medical and needed to give him a physical examination to say he was healthy?”

  She scoffed at that explanation.

  “What? She’s a doctor.”

  “She’s a cardiologist. Unless she was checkin’ his heart, why’d she be examinin’ him?”

  “Cardiologists can practice general medicine, too, so it’s possible.” I was willing to give Adam the benefit of the doubt. He’d said nothing had happened and he wasn’t interested in her, so what choice did I have?

  Angie was quiet for a while, her legs swinging from the edge of the rock.

  “You really like this guy, don’t ya? I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s hot as hell, and that accent is to die for.” She turned to face me. “I just don’t want my bestie gettin’ hurt.”

  “He’s the most carin’ and thoughtful man I’ve ever met. He swept into my life like a hurricane but instead of turnin’ my life upside down and swirlin’ it ‘round, he’s somehow calmed me down. Everythin’ just seems to make sense.” I tried to find the words to make her understand how differently I was seeing the world now that Adam was in it. “It’s made me realize how beige my life was with Charles, how what we had was really no life at all. I just existed day to day—there was no excitement, no butterflies or laughter.”

  Angie smiled, and I knew she was getting it.

  “A simple pizza dinner with Adam is an event. We talk, Ang, like really talk, and he wants to know what I think and how I feel about different things. I never had that with Charles. Every conversation with Charles was like listenin’ to a sermon where he held court and preached to me while I sat there like his loyal subject.”

  “Y’all weren’t equals. He never saw ya as his equal, did he?”

  I shook my head. “He was never interested in my opinion. Adam makes me feel like what I have to say is worthwhile and fascinatin’.”