by KB Winters
She smiled. “Good. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
My smile faded. I shrugged and looked away for a beat, gathering my thoughts. “You were right about Ryker. He’s not someone I can trust. I thought—for a minute—well, it doesn’t matter now. He’s not. I found out the hard way, and it’s over now.”
Tori slid a hand to my bare thigh. I jumped at her touch. She laughed and yanked her hand back. “Right. Sorry. Listen, Ev,” she heaved to a sitting position, our shoulders in line with each other. “He wasn’t worthy of you. You’re a fucking queen, and he was like the peasant boy. A fun fling, but never meant to work out.”
I stifled a laugh. It was clear that she was being serious, but her analogy was so out of character for her, the words themselves were funny.
“What?” She asked, arching her brow. “I read it in a romance novel once.”
“I’m far from a queen, but thank you,” I said, dropping the hint of laughter from my tone.
Tori smiled and waggled her eyebrows at me. “All that matters is that you got good and fucked! It was about damn time.” My eyes popped open wide and Tori burst out laughing so hard she dropped her head back and let her wild curls swing behind her. “Oh, the look on your face, Ev! Priceless.”
She popped up from the bed, dropped a quick kiss to my cheek and let herself out of my room, still giggling once the door was closed. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile. At least the Tori I knew and loved was back again.
Getting over Ryker was going to take some time, but at least I had a friend who would stand by my side as I worked through it all.
* * * *
The next morning, I bolted out of bed at the blaring siren of my alarm. I reached over to shut it off and noticed a missed call and voice mail from an unknown number. My heart somersaulted in my chest, jolting into action at the thought it might be Ryker’s deep honey voice on the other end of the line. I dialed into my voice mail with shaky hands, and held my breath as soon as the message started to replay.
“Everlie Harmon, this is Mark Laurels, the producer of Fly. We’re on the verge of making a final casting decision and we would like to have you come back in one more time to do a final audition. After that, we’ll have the decision made within the week. Please call me back as soon as possible, so we can schedule you.”
My heart raced as I clicked the button to call back. I’d been waiting to hear back about the next step in the audition process, and was thrilled to find I was still in the running. I’d been so sidetracked by the drama with Tori and Ryker that I’d almost forgotten about the follow up call I’d received in the middle of teaching a few days before.
Within minutes, I was connected with Mark, the lead producer of the show. “Hello, Mr. Laurels, this is Everlie Harmon. I just heard your voice mail.” I paused, trying to catch my breath. “About the audition.”
“Oh, excellent. Thank you, Miss Harmon. Can I just say we’re thrilled to have a dancer of your caliber audition for the part?”
A shiver of excitement ran up my spine at his compliment. He was the kind of man who could really make my dreams come true. “Thank you, I’m so—”
“Miss Harmon, let me put you on with my assistant. He’ll get everything set up. See you then,” Mark interrupted.
I snapped my lips closed at his abrupt interjection, and waited for him to pass the call to his assistant. The assistant and I worked through schedule conflicts, and by the time we hung up, my final audition was scheduled…for that afternoon.
Thanks to my booked out teaching schedule, and the time constraints on the show itself as everything was being arranged and prepared, it was the only mutual time that would work.
Only once my phone was on the bed beside me, did I release a full breath.
I didn’t give myself time to freak out, before getting dressed and rushing out of the apartment to go teach my morning classes. My afternoon classes had been rescheduled due to a field trip for the majority of my students, which was the only reason the audition would work. The classes were frenzied and chaotic as always with my youngest students. The benefit of a harried morning was that time flew by, each class clipping by in a blur, and occupied my mind to prevent me from over thinking my upcoming audition.
Right up until I walked into the studio and saw the panel of producers and casting agents seated behind a long table, all poised with pen and paper to jot down critique over my impending performance.
My eyes met with Mark—the producer—and he nodded at me. “Everlie Harmon. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“Of course,” I replied, smiling warmly, making eye contact with each member on the panel. “Thank you for having me back.”
After the formalities concluded, Mark asked, “You can give your music to Jason.” He waved his hand and a short, stout man rushed forward, with his hand outstretched. My heart skipped in my chest, crashing into a frantic rhythm at the request.
It was show time.
I handed off the music, queued up on my phone, and got into position, facing the panel. I worked my facial muscles into a concentrated, poignant stare, every fiber hinged, waiting for the first note to play.
Right as the song started, Ryker’s face blasted to the front of my mind, illuminated and bursting, like a mental firework display. Suddenly, he was all I could see, think about, feel. The sad music ripped at my heart, and my muscles loosened, sagging as the emotions hit me.
The music pitched, and my cue to begin the dance came...and went.
My mind snapped clear, Ryker’s memory vanishing like a disturbed ghost, and the horror of missing my cue consumed every sense. I froze in place, panicked thoughts racing into my head and pressed my eyes closed. The song was still going and I couldn’t do a thing.
Ten, twenty, and then, a full thirty seconds passed.
“Everlie?” Mark asked, clearing his throat.
My eyes fluttered open and my cheeks warmed when they found every member of the panel staring at me. “I’m so sorry…I missed my mark. Can we…do you mind? I can do this.”
Mark nodded at Jason, who was running the sound in the corner, and the music cut, flooding the room with an uncomfortable silence. I cast my eyes at the polished floor, and waited. The music piped through the sound system and this time, I managed to keep control of my thoughts, channeling every ounce of energy and passion into my performance.
The song came to a slow, simmering finish, and I struck my final pose, my arms outstretched above my head.
I waited a full beat before bringing my gaze to the panel and smiled as they offered a smattering of applause. Mark nodded, made a note and then looked back up at me. “Thank you, Miss Harmon. As I said on the phone, we hope to be making our decision this week. Someone will call you either way with our decision.”
“Thank you,” I stammered. The other panel members had already begun talking to each other, no one paying any attention to me as I slunk from the room, stopping only long enough to get my phone from the assistant.
As I left the studio, I was already planning how I’d describe how the audition went. I’d told Tori about it that morning on my way out of the apartment, and knew she’d ask as soon as I saw her again. But I had no idea how I’d answer the inevitable question: How did it go?
I wandered around, for what I’d intended to be a quick mile, but turned into a meandering stroll up and down different streets. My eyes were unfocused, only seeing traffic signs and obstacles, but not absorbing any of the other people or sights around me. The flashing lights, loud calls and cars whizzing by all faded to the background as my mind raced, ping-ponging between thoughts of Ryker, the audition, my conversation with Tori, and then back through everything again.
Eventually, the pounding in my feet urged me to walk back to the studio where I’d left my car. I spotted some of the panel members leaving the building, and I hung back, not wanting to overhear what they were saying to one another. No doubt, there were wondering how on earth I’d slipped past
the first round of cuts. Once they had left, I got into my car and headed home just as the city transformed from day to night.
I’d plowed through two TV movies, and a large bowl of popcorn, when a frantic pounding on the front door startled me upright on the couch.
“What now…” I grumbled, pushing off the couch. There was another banging knock before I’d even made it halfway to the front door, and I muttered under my breath that it was probably Tori, drunk as hell and couldn’t find her keys.
My breath caught in my throat as I pulled the door open and saw that it wasn’t Tori at all…
It was none other than Ryker Newman. Or Knight. Or whoever the hell he was today.
Chapter Three
Everlie
The door slammed before I even realized I was the one who shut it. The loud bang startled me, but it couldn’t cut through the shock that was reverberating through me at the sudden appearance of Ryker on my porch.
“Everlie! Open up!” Ryker shouted through the door.
My hand went to the doorknob, but stopped, my fingertips grazing the brass and then falling away. “Go away, Ryker. I don’t want to talk to you! Now, or ever!”
At the silence on the other side, I peeked out through the security hole, and didn’t see Ryker standing there. I sighed and wasn’t sure if I was more relieved or sad. My emotions were already frayed and damaged after the disappointment from the audition. I turned, the siren call of my bed swaying me, but two steps back into the apartment, Ryker’s voice boomed through the door again.
“Everlie, please. Open the door.”
The raw, desperate edge to his voice drew me back to the door. I looked out the peephole again and saw him still standing there. He was wearing a black t-shirt under a leather jacket, and honestly, he looked irresistible. He raised his eyes to mine, and hot lava filled my stomach. It took me a moment to realize he couldn’t see me, the way he looked at me, was intense and personal, as though there wasn’t a door separating us. There were deep lines etched under his eyes and my heart fell, wondering how long it had been since the last time he had a good night’s sleep.
Then again, he’d have had a perfectly nice evening of sleep, if he hadn’t been off, chasing hookers through casinos in the middle of the night.
With a groan of frustration—mostly directed at myself—I opened the door. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice hiding my anger, masking it behind a cool, frosty tone.
Ryker looked me up and down, a flash, but there was no doubt he’d taken note of every detail of my body. I pulled my jersey knit robe closed tighter—making sure everything was covered, tucked away from his eyes. “Can I come in?”
I crossed my arms. “Why? I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”
“I know.” Ryker’s reply disarmed me. The honesty and the earnest look on his face dropped another layer of my defenses.
“Then why are you here?”
He stared at me for another long moment before replying. “I needed to see you.”
I sighed. “Ryker, you just left me in the middle of the night, to go meet with a hooker in a casino! A hooker, who flashed a gun at me when I tried to even get close! And, what about when you told me that everything I know is a lie? You really think I can just put all that aside and hear you out?” I threw my arms up, even further disgusted as I recapped it. Something about saying it all out loud made it feel even more hopeless and ridiculous. “I can’t trust you. And you shouldn’t expect me to. Not after all that.”
Ryker nodded. “I know.”
I stared, my eyes wide and expectant, waiting for the rest of his excuses to come pouring out, but his lips remained a tight line. When it became clear he wasn’t going to add anything, I moved to close the door. “Goodbye, Ryker.”
When the door was halfway closed, he put up a hand, bracing it in place. “I’m not leaving.”
A shiver of fear crept up my spine. I’d never feared Ryker, but there was something so determined and dark about his words, that I began to wonder if I was safe. After all, he’d already confessed everything he’d told me was a lie. Was he some kind of serial killer who liked to play with his victims? Was this all some sick, twisted game to him?
I pushed harder against the door, my fear fueling my body with adrenaline. “Go away, Ryker, or I’m calling the cops. This is harassment!”
“Ever—”
Ryker released his grip on the door for a split second and it slammed closed with a loud bang. I flicked the three deadbolts into place, making sure to make as much noise as possible with each lock. “Go away!” I repeated, banging on my side of the door for emphasis, before turning away.
Curiosity ravaged my brain, question after question springing to my mind. I couldn’t tear myself away from the door. And I didn’t have to check the peephole to know that Ryker was still on the other side. I couldn’t feel him, but I could sense him. Our bodies were separated by the thick, security door, and a whole heap of fears and unspoken questions.
“Why? Ryker, just tell me why,” I said, voicing one of the nagging thoughts in my mind.
“I can’t tell you that part right now, Ev. I wasn’t looking to score with some hooker,” Ryker called back. “It’s all this mess with Bennett. It’s almost over, and when it is, I’ll tell you everything. Trust me.”
I scoffed.
“Not that I expect you to,” Ryker added, so quietly I barely heard it.
Against all rational thought, I turned and unlocked the door. I pulled it open. “Come in.”
He entered my apartment and I realized it was the first time he’d ever been there. It was odd to see him standing in my everyday living space. Something about it was more personal and intimate than I’d expected. The heat from his body radiated to me, and I stepped back to put some much needed space between us. “I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you. What I said at the casino last night…” My breath hitched in my chest, waiting for his next sentence like I was dangling from the edge of a cliff. His next words would be the difference between falling and flying. “…I was trying to get you away before Lau—Crystal, could do anything stupid. She’s a little…impulsive.”
“Tell me then, what don’t I know? You said everything is a lie. So, what does that mean? You want to start all over again? Do a little, hi, I’m Everlie, hi, I’m Ryker, conversation?” I shook my head, dismissing the thought. “It’s not that simple, Ryker. I was starting to really care about you,” I said, each word yanked from my mouth in a painful tug-o-war.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it was true. I was falling for Ryker. The first time the thought struck me, I’d told myself it was just the effect of the rushing hormones because we’d slept together, but in the aftermath of his betrayal, the pain and distraction had revealed the truth. Somewhere along the way, my heart got tangled up with the physical part, which made it even more difficult to let it go and move on.
Especially when he kept popping up out of nowhere with explanations and understanding words.
“Are you even in the military?” I asked, cocking my head at him.
“Yes, well, I was. I recently got out. Bennett too.” Ryker looked down at his hands.
“Look at me,” I snapped. “If you’re gonna lie to me, at least lie to my face.”
Ryker’s eyes flicked to mine, dark, and stormy. “I’m not lying, Everlie.”
I considered him, weighing his words. But I couldn’t decide. He was smooth and confident, and it was impossible to tell when he was telling the truth and when he was lying. “Then tell me, what is it that you want? Why are you really here?”
“I want you,” he said, unflinching at the boldness of his answer. “I can’t get you out of my head, and I couldn’t live with myself for pushing you away like that when things were actually getting real.”
Getting real. That line stuck with me. I turned it over in my mind for another half a minute, wondering if it was possible that Ryker was falling for me like I was falling for h
im. And if—just if—that was possible, what did it mean? Relationships required a solid foundation if they were going to last, and right now, it looked like Ryker and I had built the structure of our relationship on a pile of secrets, deception, and lies—his lies.
We were doomed before we even got started.
Ryker stepped closer as my wheels were spinning, his body filling the space I’d created between us, and then a little more, bringing us within inches of one another. I backed up half a step and bumped into the entryway wall.
I shook my head at him, my eyes stinging. “No. This isn’t going to work. I want you too, but it’s impossible.”
“Why?” He asked, his voice deep and gravely.
“I don’t know who you are,” I answered, still shaking my head. I wanted to touch him, to let myself dissolve into his warmth and the sultry scent of his aftershave. He was too much for me to withstand. The problem was he knew it. He brought his fingers up to the side of my face, stilling it. His touch set off half a dozen alarms in the back of my mind, urging me to look away, to sidestep him and run for my life. To hold onto the tiny sliver of common sense I had left.
“Yes you do,” Ryker said, his fingertips brushed down my face and traced over my trembling lips. “That’s why I can’t stay away from you. You’re the only one who seems to understand me. Everyone else is too busy trying to fit me into their mold, and they never slow down to ask what I want. With you, it’s different. You let me be. My whole life, it was my dad, pushing me into joining the military, and chasing me up the rungs of that ladder, right up until the day he died. I’m proud of my service, and wouldn’t take a minute of it back, no matter how fucked up it got at times…”
