“What the hell did you want me to do? Hide out in your apartment? Be reasonable, Riley. Running was the best and only option.”
“The girl I knew didn’t run from anything.”
She met my eyes for a moment before she looked away, brushing a flyaway strand of hair back behind her ear. “Yeah, well. I ran from this. I’d never been up against anything this big before.”
“What about your parents?”
Her shoulders tightened, her spine going rigid, and that was enough of an answer without her saying a word, though she said, “What about them?”
“They still think you’re dead, don’t they? You never told them…”
“No, I didn’t. And I’m not going to.” Her voice was hard, brooking no argument.
I furrowed my brow, scratching the scruff on my jaw. Evie hadn’t exactly gotten along with her parents back then, but this was on a whole other level. There was teenage angst, that whole butting-heads-with-your-parents thing, and then there was this. Letting them think she was dead? That seemed a little extreme.
“Never? But why—”
“I said they don’t know and they’re never going to. End of discussion.” She stood from the couch and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and effectively shutting out any response I’d have.
Before, Evie hadn’t ever liked talking about her parents, had avoided it at all costs, but that was nothing compared to the way she’d just slammed the door on my questioning.
The fact that she shut it down so forcefully made me wonder how worried she was … if concern over her parents’ well-being was what had made her run in the first place.
Chapter Ten
EVIE
Despite my exhaustion, sleep still wouldn’t come. Riley had crashed on the couch a bit ago, and in our near proximity, I could hear his smooth, even breathing. Listening to it brought back memories of a time so long ago, a time when I’d crash at his place—anything so I didn’t have to go home—and he’d curl himself around me, the two of us smashed on the couch because he and Gage had only been able to afford a one-bedroom apartment. Like it was yesterday, I could remember the feeling of having him pressed up behind me as he slept, his arms the only solace I’d ever known, all warmth and comfort wrapped up in a lanky kid.
He wasn’t that lanky kid anymore.
He was anger and aggression and determination, the past five years having changed him so much from the boy I’d once known.
It was nearing dawn, the earliest whispers of light brushing against the sky and filling the loft with pale light. I stared at the ceiling and thought about my and Riley’s last interaction, right before we’d crashed for the night. When he’d brought up my parents. Brought up the two people I had no desire to think of ever again.
Riley had always been astute, especially when it came to me. He’d always been able to read me, knowing my signs, sensing my emotions. But with my parents, he’d assumed it was standard adolescent angst, just run-of-the-mill teenage bullshit, and I’d never corrected him. He’d never known the issues I’d had with my parents. I hadn’t told him, and he hadn’t pushed.
He’d never pushed me in anything—not back then. He’d always let me take the reins, let me lead in our relationship. Now, though, that was something else that was different. Something else about him that had changed. He would never be satisfied letting someone else lead, that much was clear in the little bit we’d interacted.
And that worried me, because if he pushed on this … if he didn’t take my short answers at face value, wasn’t satisfied with them like he’d always been before, a whole host of shit I didn’t want to talk about—especially with him, never with him—was going to be staring me down, looking me right in the eyes.
And I’d have no choice but to tell him. To reveal the secrets I’d worked so hard to hide.
The secrets I’d tried so hard to run from.
RILEY
With the loft being so open, it was hard to hide out, but Evie had managed to do it all morning. She’d woken up, headed into the bathroom, showered, and changed into different clothes. Then she’d parked herself on the bed, phone in hand, doing whatever it was she needed to do. Whether she was reading a book on there or surfing the Web or, more probably, talking to her fiancé, I didn’t know.
The thought of that guy—Eric—made my jaw tighten, my shoulders tense. It’d been five years, and I certainly hadn’t abstained from relationships during that time, though relationships wasn’t exactly accurate. After Evie … after learning of her death, I’d slipped into an easy pattern of fuck and flee, and I’d never really gotten out of it. All the women I’d been with had been aware of how I worked, were in it for the same thing I was—physical release. Because after Evie, I’d figured I’d already used up my one chance to connect with someone so much. I’d had it and lost it, and that was it for me.
Seemed she didn’t quite think the same.
When the silence that had filled the loft all damn day finally got to be too much, I asked, “What have you told Eric?”
She snapped her head up, her eyes wide as she looked at me. I didn’t need any kind of answer from her, because her eyes said it all—that panicked stare focused directly on me.
“None of it?” I raised my eyebrows.
Averting her attention to the bed, she avoided my gaze again, but I was tired of being shut out by her. We were stuck here together until we figured a way out of this fucking mess she’d gotten us in, and I wasn’t about to spend it talking to a goddamn wall.
“So he has no idea your real name is Evie Masterson.”
“I’m not Evie. I’m Genevieve.”
“Bullshit you are. That’s a role you play, simple as that.”
She laughed then, a hollow sound, too dark and sinister coming from such a sweet mouth. “Oh, Riley. I’ve been playing a role for a hell of a lot longer than five years.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Ignoring—or avoiding—my question entirely, she said, “No, he doesn’t know any of it. And he won’t, not if I have a choice in the matter.”
“And what if you don’t? What if Max takes that choice away from you?”
She blew out a breath, sank back to the pillow propped against the wall at the head of the bed. “Then I guess I’ll figure it out if that happens.”
I turned around on the couch, hanging my arm over the back, and faced her more directly. “Does he even know where you are?”
“He knows I’m away from home…” She trailed off, her gaze going to the window next to the bed. “He just doesn’t know where or why.”
“And he doesn’t ask?”
Shaking her head, she said, “Our relationship isn’t really like that…”
“You’re engaged to marry him, but you don’t tell each other where you are?” Granted, I’d never been engaged, so what the fuck did I know? But it just seemed to me that was exactly what two people desperately in love with each other would do. In fact, people desperately in love usually couldn’t stand to be away from each other. Which raised another question entirely. “Why aren’t you in London with him? Why’d you stay behind?”
She crossed her arms, her chin jutting up, eyes hard. “I’m not sure it’s really any of your business what I do and don’t discuss with my fiancé or why I do or don’t do things with him.”
I stared at her for a minute, at that defiant glint in her eyes, the hard set of her shoulders, and clenched my jaw, my fists tightening. I didn’t know why her avoidance of my questions bothered me so much. More than that, I didn’t know why I wanted to know the answers so damn bad in the first place. No good could possibly come from delving into her life like that, finding out what made her tick now. Or from learning detailed accounts of what she did and didn’t do with her fucking fiancé.
Giving her a short nod, I said, “You’re absolutely fucking right. Forget I said a word.”
I turned my back on her, though I wanted to do more than that.
What I wanted was to storm out, slam the door, and go for a long ride on my bike. Or hit a punching bag until I’d exhausted myself. Or go for a hard, grueling run until I’d cleared my goddamn head. Or fuck out every ounce of aggravation and irritation and frustration I had thrumming through my veins … Instead, I was stuck here, in this too-small loft, with the one girl I never thought I’d see again, the one girl I’d loved and lost … The one girl who’d always managed to turn me inside fucking out.
One thing I was certain of: if I sat here stewing, I’d be miserable all night—hell, I’d be miserable however long we’d be stuck here. Just because I’d gotten used to burning off my aggression in other ways didn’t mean I didn’t have the best piece of equipment with me. I got up and walked across the room, grabbing the bag of stuff I’d had Gage pack for me yesterday and pulling out an A-shirt and basketball shorts.
Evie had dismissed me the second I’d told her to forget I said a word, burying her nose in that goddamn phone again, so I didn’t give it a second thought when I reached back and pulled my shirt over my head, quickly slipping into the white A-shirt. I unbuttoned and dropped my jeans, pulling on the basketball shorts over my black boxer briefs, then shoved everything else in the bag.
When I spun around to head toward the kitchen to get some water, Evie’s eyes weren’t focused on her phone like I’d expected. Nope, they were focused right on me, those gray eyes hidden partially behind eyelids at half-mast, her lips parted, a blush dotting her cheeks.
I stopped in my tracks, narrowing my eyes at her. Though it’d been years since I’d seen it, I recognized that look on her face, had seen it a hundred times before. Evie was turned on. It could’ve been my frustration coming out, or it could’ve been pure curiosity, but I couldn’t help goading her. “Something you need?”
My voice startled her, and her eyes lifted to connect with mine, telling me she’d been staring right at my chest. She shook her head. “No. Um, no. Just wondering what you were doing.”
“Well, you’ve pissed me the fuck off, so I’m gonna run some drills.”
She glowered at me, the lusty—and, yeah, it’d been lust on her face; I’d bet my balls on it—look wiped clean in the blink of an eye. Instead of commenting on the first part of what I’d said, she asked, “By yourself?”
“Not a whole lot of options…” I filled a glass with water, then set it on the counter before going over to the couch and pushing it forward, sliding it to sit right in front of the TV. The space in here wasn’t overly large, but it was big enough to go through some routines. Ones I hadn’t been through in a while—months, if not a year or more. Gage and I always used to do this, back when we couldn’t afford any other method of keeping in shape—no gym memberships for us. And in our business, you had to keep in shape. If you didn’t, you were flat on your back—or worse—before you could blink.
I stretched briefly, warming up with some jumping jacks, push-ups, and sit-ups to get my heart rate up. When I was ready to really get into it, see if I could remember the series of movements Gage had taught me years ago, Evie was standing in front of me. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a light gray tank top and the tiniest pair of shorts I’d ever seen the only things covering her body.
“I’m an option,” she said, her hands resting on her hips. “I always did think it was more fun doing it with someone else.”
I raised an eyebrow at her words and let my eyes take in every inch of her, traveling up from her bare feet, her toenails painted a boring pale pink that so wasn’t Evie, to the creamy smooth expanse of her toned calves and thighs, pausing momentarily at the tiny scrap of material that counted as shorts—or panties, more likely. I knew if she turned around, the cheeks of her ass would be visible out the bottom of that little band of fabric, and I ached to reach around and feel it for myself.
My cock roused in my shorts, twitching to life, and it didn’t settle down as I continued my appraisal, ghosting over the flat plane of her stomach and the sliver of bare skin where her tank top didn’t quite meet the band of her shorts, then darting my gaze up to the creamy expanse of her shoulders, speckled with freckles and nearly bare except for the straps of her tank top. The thin straps that made it clear she, once again, wasn’t wearing a bra. Not that she needed to—her breasts were small, tiny really, but perfect. The thought of them, of what they’d looked like, especially as I allowed my gaze to finally drop and take in the hard points pressing against the fabric, made my mouth water. Made my hands twitch at my sides to reach out, pull the strap from her shoulder, yank down the front of the tank top, and put my mouth to those perfect little tits, suck her nipples into my mouth, and see if I still knew how to make her moan.
See if, this time around, I could make her scream.
Chapter Eleven
EVIE
I’d sat, staring mesmerized as Riley had stripped. Right there in the open for anyone to see, like he hadn’t a care in the world, and I couldn’t even catch my damn breath. When I’d said he’d filled out, I’d had no idea. No idea.
I’d watched the muscles in his bare back flex with each movement he’d made. He’d somehow managed to make reaching for his tank and tugging it over his head look like an art form. Too focused on his broad shoulders, the defined cut of his arms, I hadn’t noticed he was shucking his jeans until he’d already nearly had the shorts he’d been changing into over his ass, but I’d still managed to catch a glimpse of skintight black—boxer briefs, if his old preferences were anything to go by. And I hated that I remembered what kind of underwear he wore.
If I was honest with myself, though, I knew that the remembrances of our time together didn’t start and end there. I remembered everything.
Riley wasn’t someone easily forgotten.
Sitting there watching him, I’d wanted to freeze the moment and stare at it forever. Stare at him forever. But more than that, more than just sitting and watching, I’d wanted to go to him. I’d wanted to be the kind of girl who could stand up from the couch, walk up to him, put my hand around the back of his neck and tug him down to me, and press my lips to his while I pressed everything else against every hard inch of him.
And the thing was, I was that girl. I’d never had problems taking control of that part of my life, making sure I was the one in charge in the bedroom. In fact, that was what I preferred. And not just what I preferred, but the only thing I allowed.
Except now, I wasn’t that girl. I couldn’t be, because I had this ring on my finger and a fiancé in London, and I wasn’t allowed to stare at my ex-boyfriend like I wanted to drag him to the floor and ride him until neither of us could see straight.
So, of course, I’d done the next most logical thing. I’d stripped from my yoga pants and hoodie, going over to him in my tank top and boy shorts, offering to be his sparring partner. Because that would certainly abate the heat that was burning inside me.
“Since when do you spar?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.
Crossing my arms against my chest, I said, “Since five years ago when I started running from people. I had to figure out a way to protect myself. Just in case.”
He nodded, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I saw the glint of appreciation in his eyes when he looked back at me. “Do you normally work with a partner?”
“That’s how I learned.”
“Okay.” He appraised me, his gaze landing on every inch of me, and I tried to control the shiver that ran up my spine, but by the smirk on his face, the heat in his eyes when he locked them with mine, I wasn’t successful. When he’d finished his perusal of my body, he took a step forward, bringing his toes within an inch of mine, and leaned down, his face so close the heat from his breath whispered across my lips. I wanted to close my eyes and breathe him in. Wanted to lean forward and see if his lips were as soft as I remembered. See if he still tasted the same. Wanted to run my hands over his chest and shoulders, see how different he felt now. Wanted to get lost in him. Wanted to be found.
Instead, I just stared at h
im while he stared at me, and then he broke the silence. “Let’s see what you’ve got, baby.”
RILEY
She was good. Better than I thought she’d be. Her instincts were sharp, her movements practiced and precise, and soon, despite what she was wearing, despite the hard-on I’d been rocking at the beginning, I got into the exercise of it. Matching her movements, blocking her kicks and hits, pushing her and challenging her, while doing the same for myself.
She was shorter, smaller, but that made her quicker and sleeker, able to twist out of the way more easily when I came at her. And watching the determination on her face, the concentrated look in her eyes, was hot as hell. She took this seriously, as seriously as anything, and that was damn sexy.
As if I needed another thing to find attractive about her.
That heat between us was unmistakable. Despite the years we’d been apart, despite all the shit piled up between us now, there was still chemistry. And I’d have to be blind not to see it in Evie’s eyes when she looked at me, too.
Breathing heavily, she stepped back and brushed the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail back from her face, ending that sequence. She walked over and grabbed her water, then downed it before setting the empty glass back on the counter. With her hands planted on her hips, she stood and stared at me.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye as I followed her lead and went to get some water, guzzling it in a few swallows, then filling the glass again. Before I drank that one, I asked, “What?”
If I’d thought she’d had steely determination in her eyes before, it had nothing on what I saw there now. She rolled her shoulders back, jutted her chin up. “I want you to show me how to get out of that hold. The one you had me in at my house.”
I paused with the glass halfway to my mouth, assessing her, then gave a slow nod. Trapping her like I’d done, besting her in less than sixty seconds, was something that would eat away at her. She’d always thrived on being in charge, and being forced into a submissive position like that would piss her off.
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