Now

Carys

“DAMMIT!” THE BOWL SLIPS from my hand, shattering when it hits the floor. My favorite serving bowl is now garbage.

“Hey, you okay?” Tate asks, concerned. Her blonde ponytail swishes side to side as she stoops to pick up the large chunks of broken pottery.

Tate is my brother’s wife and a dear friend. We’ve only known each other for a couple of years, but bonded easily over the loss of Griffin. He was like a brother to me, and at one point, Griffin was Tate’s boyfriend.

While we didn’t know each other when Griffin was alive, he lives on in each of us for the other. She’s my go-to person for the rare moments when I feel the need to talk about Evan. She’s easy to talk to, especially since she doesn’t know him, and more importantly, she didn’t know me with him.

I haven’t told her about our kiss. I can’t. For now, it’s just for me. While he let me in when I called him about the letter, I’ve been a chaotic bundle of nerves since then. Everything is still a mess with Greg. He’ll be here tonight, and I’m not sure if I can face him.

“I don’t know what happened. I’m clumsy tonight,” I offer lamely, helping to gather the pieces.

“I’ve got it.” Lauren steps in with a broom. “C, you’re not clumsy, never, but I have noticed that you’re distracted. I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. What gives?”

I swallow past the tightening in my throat; I truly don’t want to talk about this. “L, in case you missed it, I’m in charge of this party and have a kazillion things running through my mind.”

Ma’s party is in full swing with most of our guests here. Food is in abundance, the drinks are flowing, and the band has just started to jam. It won’t be long before the little makeshift dance floor will be hopping with old and young alike.

“Sorry, not buying it,” my best friend presses. If anyone’s going to pull this out of me, it’s Lauren. “You have these parties down to the second. You wouldn’t be worried about a certain guest who has yet to arrive, would you?”

Tate’s lips twitch in amusement. They think they know it all. About to attempt another deflection, I’m saved by Lauren’s sweetheart, Jenny. The platinum blonde pixie swoops in and wraps her arms around Lauren.

“Sorry, can I steal her for a moment?” Jenny asks.

“Absolutely,” I chime in with a big smile. Lauren’s eyes narrow on me. “Take her and don’t bring her back. We are so done.” I smirk.

“We’re not done.” She wags her finger at me before walking away.

It’s funny, but not in a surprising way, how Lauren’s an equal-opportunity kind of gal. She’d always been a highly sexual creature, having lost her virginity long before me, but during high school, she was all about the boys.

During college, she began to explore her interest in her own gender. Now, she’s with whomever she likes, man or woman. She and Jenny have been together for almost a year and they’re adorable. As much as I’m happy for her, I never miss the opportunity to tease her about her childhood dream of marrying Ry.

“You know, you’re not off the hook,” Tate says.

“Not you, too,” I groan.

Walking together into the kitchen, she adds, “You have been off a bit lately. First when we were at the gym and then while we were shopping the other day.”

Dumping the shards into the garbage, I turn to face her. Her concern is evident in her face. I trust her. She’s never told Ry anything we talk about; he’s made a point of telling me that he knows nothing. I could tell her anything and she’d take it to her grave.

Lord knows the woman has been through a lot, but she won’t talk about it, and I don’t push. She confides in Ry and Max about her tormentors, her father and first husband, who are now dead. She’d walk through fire for someone she loves.

“I just …” Inhaling deeply, I gather my scattered thoughts. I’m not ready to reveal it all, but I’m willing to let her in on some. “I’m a wreck. I’m so happy that Evan’s alive and home, that he’s okay, but since he’s come back, these past few weeks have been utter chaos in here and here.” I touch my head, then my heart.

“Have you talked to Evan? I mean really talked.”

Biting my lower lip, I sigh. “We’ve started to, but it’s not going to change things overnight, and being near him fucking short-circuits my brain.” My voice climbs higher as I become more agitated with his impending arrival.

“Wow, he brings out your potty mouth,” Tate says. “And Greg?”

The thought makes me ill. I’m a coward. I haven’t told Greg about Evan’s return. I already planned on ending our relationship; the question is when. While he and I have never talked about Evan, it won’t take long for him to jump to conclusions.

Ma had no qualms about telling Greg everything about Evan, going so far as to tell him that Evan and I were practically married. She didn’t do it in a spiteful or mean way, in fact, just the opposite. She told Greg to help him understand me, be patient with me.

And what am I doing? I’m avoiding Greg. We’ve hardly seen each other in the past three weeks. It’s not unusual for our time to be limited because of his career and my hours. Really, it’s a wonder we’ve lasted this long, but he usually makes time to see me. Lately, I’ve found excuses when he says he’s coming by the bar for lunch or dinner.

“No.” My voice is low and weak, which is how I feel. “I’ve been avoiding him. I don’t know what to tell him.”

“I didn’t want to push, so I didn’t ask, but you were thinking about ending things a couple of months ago—did you change your mind?”

“Truthfully, no, but I never did anything about it. I was complacent and a coward. Things are the same. He’s a good guy and I love him, but I’m not in love with him. I never was. Even though I’ve been honest with him, I still feel horrible.”

“Has Evan coming back changed anything for you and Greg?”

“Evan has nothing and everything to do with Greg and me.” I sigh at how complicated it is. It’s because of my love for Evan that I can’t be with Greg, but it’s not because of Evan’s return that I need to end things. “If we break up now, it’ll look like it has everything to do with Evan,” I complain, frustrated with the situation I’ve gotten myself into.

I should have walked away months ago, but Greg begged me to give us another try. I tried to make him understand that there was nothing that he was doing wrong, make him see that you can’t make someone fall in love with you, but no matter what I said, he insisted and I just gave in.

“I know, sweetie. I know you know this, but you’ve got to talk to both of them.”

Nodding, I give her a short but warm hug. Tate makes sure I’m okay before going to Ry, Tripp, and her brother, Max. Coop was supposed to be here, but Ry said something cryptic about him not being in the partying mood.

Like before, my stomach flutters before I even see him. It doesn’t take long for me to spot him, despite the crowd. He’s hugging Ma and she’s smiling as brightly as the sun. As much as I’d hoped he’d be a no-show, I’m glad he’s here for her. She’s beyond thrilled to have him back.

“What ya looking at it?” Max whispers seductively in my ear from behind me, his hands firmly planted on my hips.

“Hey, Maxie,” I tease.

He grunts, resting his forehead on my shoulder. Tate let me in on the secret about bugging him with that horrendous nickname.

“Not you, too. I’m going to get Tate for that,” he groans, but when he lifts his head, he’s smiling.

Coming around to face me, he wraps me in a big hug. Max is as sweet as they come and damn hot, too. When we first met, I was in my ‘fuck-it’ phase of Evan leaving me and boldly asked him out in front of friends and family. I was doing anything and everything out of character, and asking Max out was just one example.

Max and I hit it off and went out a few times, but the chemistry wasn’t there. We tried, both of us did, but we finally admitted that we were meant to be friends and that was it. At the time, he was living in England. He’s now back in the city and is a cardiologist with one of the big hospitals.

Behind Max, I spot Evan striding toward us, his stare fixed on me. He’s not happy. I haven’t spoken to him since my office, since our kiss.

Thrusting his hand between Max and me, he gruffly says, “We haven’t met.”

“No, we haven’t,” Max says, taken off guard, eyeing Evan suspiciously. “I’m Max Conrad, and you are?”

“Evan Hart.” His shake is firm, his eyes unyieldingly on me, as if Max isn’t here.

“Oh, Evan. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Evan nods, eyes flitting back and forth between us. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not all. Carys and I were just catching up.”

At this point, Max hasn’t picked up on Evan’s ticked vibe, although I’m fully aware that Evan’s move was solely to break up our conversation. He didn’t like us talking to each other. The funny thing is, he doesn’t even know my history with Max; just imagine how he’d be acting if he did.

“Yeah, you’re interrupting. Max and I were having a conversation,” I say.

“Well, I’d like to join in,” he says cockily. “I might have something to add.”

Unable to stop myself, I chuckle at his immaturity. Some things never change. Evan isn’t immature; actually, he’s an old soul, sage and reasoned, but his weakness is me, especially with other men. He doesn’t share, contrary to him encouraging me to live my life and experience things before we settled down. That was his mantra when we were younger, but I knew he didn’t mean for me to have numerous boyfriends.

As much as it bothered me when I was younger because all I wanted was Evan and it meant I wasn’t with Evan, a part of me loved it. I loved him even more for that selfless act of putting my needs before his, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be selfish. He can be—he proved that by walking away from me, even if his intent was pure. Yeah, I’m not bitter at all.

But he’s also giving, kind, and sweet. Dammit, I must stop this. I don’t need more reasons to long for Evan Hart.

“So, Max, I hear you went out with my sweetness,” he says out of the blue, enunciating the possessive word.

Of course, he knows we went out.

“Sweetness? This one?” Max teases, chuckling with a glance at me. “Sweetness?”

“See, people find me rather sweet, adorable even,” I say, poking Max in the ribs.

He fakes a flinch, grabbing my sides and tickling me. Evan growls, his fists clenching as he remains still, his gaze a potent mixture of savage and lover.

“Yes, we go way back,” Max finally responds, ceasing his torment but still holding me.

Max is astute and his action is deliberate. He’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not pick up on Evan’s serious displeasure at our friendliness. Evan steps closer to me. He’s not trying to be intimidating, more to infringe on my space. His hulking body and heat is overpowering. My pulse races.

“Um, back up.” I’m conflicted as to whether I mean it or not.

Again, he growls, but he moves a bit. “Max, do me a favor?” His tone is smooth and measured.

“Sure,” Max says casually, amusement dancing in his green eyes.

“Take your hands off her.” There’s a razor’s edge quality to his words.

“What?” Max chuckles and his eyes widen in surprise, laughter still evident in his features. At the same time, he removes his arm. “Hey, man, I know she’s taken. I’m not making a move. We’re strictly friends. Listen, Carys, I’ll catch you later. Evan, good to meet ya.”

“Talk to you later, Max.” Giving him a quick hug, I turn on Evan. “That was rude. You had no reason to come over here.”

“I didn’t like how close he was to you, how familiar.” His innuendo is clear, hanging like a guillotine between us.

“It’s none of your business. It’s not for you to care.”

“I’ll always care. You are my business. If the other night didn’t remind you of that, I can always give you a refresher.” He smirks.

Shaking my head, I turn from him, ready to walk away. We’ve got to talk, set boundaries and ground rules, but now is not the time or the place. Evan grabs my shoulder, spinning me to face him.

“Sweetness, I know you went out with him a couple of times. I’m sorry, I was out of line.”

He was watching me. The thought still messes with my head and my heart. It irks me and turns me on. Damn him.

“Yes, you were, and yes, we went out, past tense. So, anything new with the letter and Paola?” I ask, changing the subject.

“It’s going well. From what we’ve gathered so far, it looks like what she says is true, but we’re still digging to make sure this isn’t a trick or something.”

I’m surprised and pleased by the little that he’s shared. It’s way more than he ever has before, and it gives me pause. He’s really taking to heart what I said about letting me in, trusting me with things, even those that might be dangerous. I truly believe we can overcome anything together, no matter the risk, and I wonder if he’s beginning to believe it, too. He’ll always want to protect me, I know that, but perhaps he’s also accepting that I get to decide what risks I’m willing to take.

“I’ve got something for you.” His gruff, low voice brings me out of my thoughts as he hands me a blue paper bag with white tissue paper.

I noticed it before, but thought it was for Ma. Hesitantly, I remove the paper and the contents, gazing up at Evan every so often. He’s studying my every move.

I pull out a copy of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. Its significance is not lost on me; it’s one of our all-time favorite reads. Glancing up at Evan, I see his lips are faintly upturned as he anxiously awaits my reaction.

Upon further inspection, I see the cover is old, but in great condition. It hits me what I’ve got in my hands.

“Holy shit, Evan,” I squeal, wrapping my arms around him for a quick hug, completely forgetting that there’s nothing ever fleeting or innocent about Evan Hart.

His embrace is tight and warm. I can’t help but feel cherished, and while I don’t want to break our connection, it’s the smart thing to do.

He takes my cue when I push and readily lets me go. I glance down, willing my now flushed cheeks to cool and hoping no one is looking. Fortunately, it’s too loud for others to have noticed my outburst.

My hand reverently glides over the cover before opening it. He got me a rare first edition of the UK version. I love it. All our late-night reads, from as young as six until he left for the Army, flick through my mind like a slideshow, and I’m unable to contain my joy.

“Thank you so much. I love it. It makes me want to ditch this party and run upstairs and read.”

“I’ll go with you.” He smirks. “Like old times.”

My breath hitches and my stomach somersaults as some of those old times run through my mind, like when in high school we’d start off reading and very quickly escalate to kissing and heavy petting. As if he’s reliving the same moments, his eyes glitter and he grins at me with a wink.

“You know, you were always Aslan.” I snap us out of our walk down memory lane. “What you did, leaving, was such an Aslan move. I just wish you’d realize that I don’t need saving. We would have been stronger and better off together.”

Like a bucket of icy water, the cold, hard truth kills the joyful glint in his eye. He swallows hard, his expression grim as he scans the room, most likely gathering his thoughts and deciding if we should continue this conversation here or not.

I used to call him Aslan when he’d try to do something selfless but unnecessary. His intentions were always good, but in some cases his self-sacrifice was also hurtful, like when he told me we were over and there was no future for us, yet everything I saw, heard, and learned told me the opposite.

He never left. He didn’t walk away.

Anger heats my insides. I would have waited. I’ve told him that a hundred times if I’ve told him once. I will always wait for him.

Picking up where we left off before the precious gift, I dive back into it. “Max and I went out twice and quickly realized that we were better off friends than anything else. While he’s a hot guy, super nice, funny, and smart, unfortunately, he didn’t do it for me,” I snap. Only one person does—you.

Evan sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Taking both my hands, he pulls me closer to him, face to face, intimate—too close for comfort.

“Sweetness…”

“Carys.” Greg’s voice cuts through both our connection and conversation like a samurai sword, quick, smooth, and final.