“But we both fell. Together. And there’s no reason why we can’t try and make this work when we get back to San Diego,” she said hopefully, knowing she was wearing her heart and emotions on her sleeve like she never had before.
He bit down on the inside of his cheek. She prayed with everything in her that he was considering what she said. But looking into his eyes, she knew the moment he shut down any possibility of a future together.
“I’d like to think we’d at least be friends after this,” he said quietly.
God, that hurt. So much. “I can’t make that promise, Eric.” Actually, she wouldn’t make that promise and decided to risk everything for a chance to be with him. “I feel too much for you and I can’t be friends with someone I . . . love,” she admitted, knowing it was true. “Knowing I’ll never really have you. Ever.”
He groaned, the sound low and tortured.
She knew what his issues were without him saying a word. Knew why he’d never allowed his emotions to get involved with any woman, and addressed those concerns. “Eric, I would gladly take another week with you, a month, a year . . . rather than nothing at all. I would take anything with you, even knowing what the risks are, because I wouldn’t want to live our life, our future, thinking about what-ifs that may never happen.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched tight. “I’m not going to do that to you, Evie.”
“It’s my choice to make,” she argued.
He let go of her hands and pushed his fingers through her hair, forcing her head back, and pinned her with his stare. “No, it’s mine,” he countered, his tone brusque and irritable to cover the underlying pain she saw in his eyes.
Before she could say anything more, he crushed his mouth to hers, the taste of his kiss raw and emotional and demanding. It started angry and punishing, his hands suddenly tearing away her clothes to get her naked, and she helped him do the same, her body already wet and eager and hungry for the feel of him inside her.
He pushed her back on the bed, rolled on a condom, then came over her, grabbing her hands and pinning them at the sides of her head. His cock found her core, and he lined himself up and drove so deep inside her in one hard thrust he impaled her completely. She arched beneath him and cried out as he claimed her, rough and desperate and without his normal finesse.
When she didn’t fight back and instead wrapped her legs tight around his waist and just let him take whatever he needed from her, even if it was just this physical release to stave off the avalanche of emotions he was feeling, something seemed to switch inside him. His thrusts gradually slowed, gentled, as if he was now savoring what he’d never have again.
His fingers tightened around her wrists, and he buried his face in her neck, his breathing ragged as he dragged the length of his shaft back out, then entered her again in one long, pleasurable stroke that made her thighs quiver against his hips. She closed her eyes as his warm male scent wrapped around her, and she imprinted it in her memory to recall in the lonely nights ahead. With each slow downward grind against her sex, desire pulsed through her veins, thick and hot, pushing her closer to the orgasm building inside her.
“I’m sorry, Evie,” he whispered jaggedly against her throat, sounding so broken inside it brought tears to her eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
She knew he wasn’t apologizing for the barbaric way he’d just fucked her, but rather his inability to take that ultimate risk for her and with her. He coaxed them both toward orgasm—heat, softness, and slick friction adding to the pleasurable climb—and he lifted his head and watched her face as she came beneath him, then looked deeply into her eyes before his entire body shuddered with his own release.
And when he kissed her a few minutes later, it tasted like goodbye.
Eric walked into the office an hour before the scheduled Monday afternoon meeting with Leo and a client. He’d just dropped Evie off at her place after a long, quiet car ride back to San Diego. They both knew there was nothing left to talk about since he’d pretty much shut down any possibility of a real relationship with Evie the night before—for her own good, he told himself, forcing himself to believe the words.
The thought of never seeing her again cut him like a knife, and the laceration felt fresh and raw. His greatest fear was that this particular wound would never heal, because as crazy as it was to even him, he loved her and always would. Yes, he loved her . . . There was no other explanation for the deep, emotional connection he’d felt with her. But none of that changed the fact that he was doing what was best for Evie, even if she didn’t agree, and that took precedence over his own feelings toward her.
He was glad that Heather wasn’t at her desk, because he wasn’t in the mood to chat or give anyone a rundown of his weekend as a boyfriend for hire. He went to his office, booted up his computer, and reviewed the emails relating to the upcoming meeting so he’d be refreshed and prepared for their presentation.
A few minutes later, Leo walked into his office. “Hey, I thought I heard you come in,” he said, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of Eric’s desk. “How did the weekend go?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Eric was not an overtly emotional guy to begin with, let alone one who talked about his feelings with another dude. And the fact that he was feeling things he’d never experienced before had him so fucking confused and disconcerted he wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Leo winced sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”
Eric stared at his friend, giving him one of his leave-me-the-fuck-alone glares to get his point across. Leo knew about his sister’s death, but he had no idea what Eric’s fears were. In fact, the only person in the world he’d ever shared those doubts and concerns with up to this point was Evie. Not even his mother knew the research he’d done on fraternal twins and cancer, which had always kept him from letting any kind of relationship develop with a woman.
With Evie, though, he hadn’t stood a chance. He’d never known such a sweet, kind, selfless woman like her . . . nor had he ever been inclined to share the kind of things that he had with Evie because it felt right. Because she felt right.
“Oh, shit.” Leo smirked knowingly. “Did you actually fall for her?”
“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ don’t you fucking understand?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Amusement danced in his partner’s eyes. “The part that tells me some woman actually managed to do what dozens before her never could.”
“Which is?” Eric asked before he thought better of it.
“Broke through to your walled-off heart.” Leo suddenly turned more serious. “However, you don’t seem happy about it, which is more of a normal reaction to falling for someone, which concerns me.”
“No need to be concerned,” he assured his friend. “I’m fine.”
He was far from fine. He was torn up inside and wondered when he’d feel normal again. If ever. Jesus.
“Okay.” Leo stood to go, then hesitated, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his khakis. “One last thing and I’ll leave it alone. I almost lost Peyton because I thought letting her go was what was best for her, and I was afraid to trust that what I was feeling would last after what happened with my ex. All I can say is thank God I pulled my head out of my ass in time to realize that Peyton is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and now, I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”
But this was different, Eric thought. What about Evie’s life if something happened to him?
Yet he heard his friend loud and clear, and as Leo turned and walked out of the office, he left Eric even more confused than ever.
The cellphone on his desk buzzed with a text message, and he glanced at the screen, seeing that it was from Evie. His heart skipped a hopeful beat in his chest at the sight of her name, then fell flat when he read her note.
I have an opening Thursday afternoon at two p.m. for your mom.
So polite and cordial, like they hadn’t spent the weeken
d sharing their deepest, most intimate secrets. Like he hadn’t been so deep inside her, where everything felt so damn perfect and right and unlike anything he’d ever experienced with any woman before.
He dragged his fingers through his hair, irritation quickly adding a layer to his already bad mood. What did he expect from Evie after rejecting her when she’d offered him her heart? She’d made it clear that they wouldn’t be casual friends who stayed in contact after they went their separate ways, and he had to respect her request.
He’d made his choice, and now he had to live with the consequences.
Alone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
How was it possible for Evie to both anticipate and dread seeing Eric when he dropped his mom off at the salon Thursday afternoon? The conflicting emotions had her stomach twisting and turning. Through the large windows in front of the shop, she saw him walking with a woman she assumed was his mother, Ginny, lightly holding her elbow in a gesture Evie found incredibly sweet because it was clear how much he cared about his mom.
Ginny Miller definitely looked a little nervous and uncertain about her visit to Evie’s salon. From what Eric had told her, it had been years since she’d done anything with her hair, and while Evie knew that his mother was aware of the appointment her son had made for her, she was also certain that Ginny had no idea what to expect, which was why she appeared so anxious.
The other woman had nothing to worry about, because Evie had already selected a few possible hairstyles and hair colors for the two of them to discuss. Nothing radical or too extreme. She wanted Ginny to be happy with whatever new look she ended up with.
As soon as Eric stepped into the reception area, Evie felt as though his presence had sucked all the air from her lungs. Her heart squeezed painfully tight at seeing the man who fulfilled everything on her checklist but would never be a part of her life in the way she’d hoped. She pasted on an amicable smile and headed in their direction, trying to remain professional when all she wanted to do was throw herself in his arms because that’s how much she’d missed him.
“Hi, Eric,” she said, hating the slight quiver she heard in her own voice, along with the fact that she was probably wearing her broken heart on her sleeve.
“Evie.” He nodded in greeting, and even though she could see how guarded and reserved he was, his eyes told a different story.
They looked at her with the same kind of misery she’d been dealing with the past four days, and she had to force her attention away from him and to the woman at his side before the tears she’d managed to keep tucked away during working hours threatened to burst free. No, she only allowed herself to indulge in those crying jags at night.
“You must be Eric’s mom, Ginny,” Evie said, reaching out to gently shake the woman’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you and I’m excited to see what we can do to make you feel like a million bucks by the time you leave today.”
Ginny laughed lightly and self-consciously touched the wavy ends of her hair. “At this point, feeling like a hundred bucks would be amazing.”
The other woman had her son’s wry sense of humor and his kind eyes. “We only work in the millions here, so get ready to have your socks knocked off.” She shifted her gaze back to Eric, fighting to remain composed and businesslike. “Give me about three hours with her.”
“Perfect.” He smiled, but the sentiment didn’t erase the pain in his eyes. “I’ll be back to pick her up around five.”
As soon as he left the salon, Evie felt as though she could breathe and think again. She led his mom over to her station, and once she had Ginny settled in her chair, she brought out the magazines she’d ear-marked with a few styles for Ginny to choose from. She selected a pretty layered bob that Evie assured her would look great with the shape of her face and her jawline, and together they narrowed down the color to a warm chestnut shade that would cover the gray and give her a hint of red highlights.
Then Evie got to work, first painting sections of Ginny’s hair with the dye, aware of the fact that the other woman was looking at her more curiously now in the mirror.
“So you’re the girl that Eric went to Santa Barbara with last weekend.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement, which meant Eric had mentioned her to his mother as more than a hairdresser who was going to do her hair. Honestly, Evie was surprised that he’d told his mom as much, but not knowing if Ginny knew the whole story about how Evie had met her son through the Boyfriend Experience app, she decided to just let Ginny lead the conversation and reveal what she knew.
“Yes, I am,” she replied, giving nothing away as she sectioned off another part of Ginny’s hair.
“I thought maybe the two of you were dating.”
“No.” Evie glanced in the mirror to meet the other woman’s gaze and forced a smile. “We’re just friends.”
“You know, he told me the same thing, but I just saw with my own eyes the way he was looking at you . . . and the way you were looking at him, and I know I’m really rusty and out of the game when it comes to having strong feelings for someone, but from my perspective, and it’s probably none of my business, but it seems like there is more between the two of you than just friendship.”
Evie swallowed hard, knowing she had to be careful with her reply yet be true to herself, as well. “I care for your son. A lot. And I suppose it could be something more than friendship, except he’s a little gun-shy when it comes to a long-term relationship.” And that was putting it mildly. Evie didn’t stand a chance against all the reasons Eric believed they couldn’t be together.
Ginny cast her gaze downward, her expression dismayed, as if she blamed herself for his inability to commit. “He’s always been that way. If he’s ever had a girlfriend, I’ve never met one. And it makes me sad.”
It made Evie incredibly sad, too. But what could she say to that? Evie continued the coloring process. Dipping the brush into the dye. Applying it to her hair. Another section, repeat process.
Ginny raised her eyes back to their reflection in the mirror, meeting and searching Evie’s eyes as though she’d found someone who might understand the family situation and, maybe, her son.
“Did he tell you about Trisha?” she finally asked, a flicker of grief passing across her features.
Evie tried not to appear startled, because she never would have anticipated Ginny bringing up something so personal. Then again, maybe she’d kept everything bottled up for so long and now saw something in Evie—like a connection to her son that she, herself, didn’t have—that made her want to open up about the past. “Yes, he did.”
“We all took her death differently, and I’m beginning to realize that I’ve spent way too many years hanging on to the past and not being present in Eric’s life like I should have been.” Her voice cracked slightly, her anguish nearly palpable. “I know I’ve missed out on so much by letting my grief over Trisha’s death consume me, and my biggest fear is that he won’t be able to forgive me for shutting him out when he needed me the most. How does a mom fix something like that?”
She sounded so ashamed, and Evie’s heart went out to Ginny. She’d made mistakes but she clearly loved her son. And she wanted to make amends. Evie gave her the only guidance she could without being too intrusive. “You start by being present in his life. By talking to him about things you’re feeling, even if the topics are difficult ones to address. Eric just needs to know you’re there for him.”
“You sound like my therapist,” Ginny said, clearly trying to make light of the situation.
Evie smiled at the other woman. “Then maybe you should take their advice and apply it to your relationship with Eric. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever known, and he’s going to love you and forgive you and be there for you no matter what’s happened between the two of you, or in the past.”
“You know that about him?” she asked quietly, hopefully.
“I do,” she assured Ginny as she finished with the hair dye. Eric’s heart might have b
een shattered, but his kind, compassionate soul spoke for itself. She’d seen so many facets of his personality last weekend to know exactly what kind of sincere, honorable, humble man he was, even if he didn’t believe it himself.
“All I want is him to be happy,” Ginny said candidly. “To meet a girl and fall in love like he deserves. I hoped since he’d mentioned you that maybe that had finally happened.”
A swell of emotion tightened in Evie’s throat, and all she could manage was a shake of her head to indicate a reply of no. It wasn’t her place to explain Eric’s reasons for not wanting to commit to Evie, to his mother.
When she finally felt as though she could talk again, she said, “I’m going to have you sit here in my chair for about a half hour to let the color develop.” She reached for a nearby magazine and handed it to Ginny to read if she wanted. “I’m going to go gather some other things I need and be back in a few minutes.”
She walked to Scarlett’s station, grateful that her friend was in a room giving a client a facial so she didn’t see everything written all over Evie’s face and hound her to talk. She’d been avoiding conversation with both Scarlett and Jessica about Eric, and she knew her time was limited. She grabbed a few makeup items to use on Ginny after her hair was done, and when Evie returned to her station, their conversation turned to other things. Like Ginny’s job at a nursery and how much she loved nurturing plants and flowers. She even told Evie about meeting the friend from long ago for lunch.
By the time the appointment was finished and Evie turned Ginny around to look at herself in the mirror to see the full effect of everything Evie had done—from the rich color of her hair, the soft, layered bob, to the light application of makeup on her face—the other woman gasped audibly and tears filled her eyes.
“Oh my God,” Ginny whispered in wonder and awe as she stared at her reflection. “I look . . .”
It was as if she couldn’t bring herself to say the words, so Evie smiled and supplied them for her. “Absolutely beautiful.”
The Boyfriend Experience Page 16
