Evan! You going out?”

Yes. To avoid you.

Evan pulled his face into something that wasn’t quite a smile, but at least didn’t feel like a scowl. Then he turned to Daniel Burne and said, “Yep.”

“I’ll join you.” Daniel fell into step with Evan as they pushed out of the forge’s double doors. “Need to pick up some fags.”

Great. So they’d head to the newsagents together and make stiff, forced conversation that made Evan want to stab himself in the gut.

Usually, he liked to talk. Just not with Daniel Burne.

“So,” Daniel began.

That short, sharp word was all it took to set Evan on his guard. He shot a glance over at Daniel and found the other man a picture of calm, looking straight ahead, nodding politely to passers-by.

“So,” Evan echoed.

“You meet your neighbour?”

Evan clenched his jaw. He remembered the way Ruth had felt against him three days ago and said, “Yeah. I met my neighbour.”

Daniel was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Nice guy?”

Evan sighed. “Do you think you’re being subtle?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You want to know if Ruth is my neighbour. Just ask.”

Daniel gave a rueful smile. “I suppose that right there is my answer.”

“I suppose it is.”

There was a brief, blessed pause. During that pause, Evan allowed himself to hope that the conversation would now be over.

He was, of course, disappointed.

“I hope you didn’t judge me too harshly, the other day,” Daniel said. “It’s just, I’ve known her a long time, and we… we don’t get along.”

Evan failed to see how anyone could not get along with Ruth. Yes; she was prickly and awkward and blunt to a fault. She was also adorably excitable, unapologetically passionate, and secretly, achingly, shy. But then, a man like Daniel would respond poorly to a woman like Ruth. He seemed to expect instant adoration, and Ruth wasn’t capable of that.

Evan liked her wariness. It made every inch of her trust a reward.

And you almost ruined that by throwing yourself at her. As if you’ve never known a beautiful woman before.

He pushed that thought away, because it was woefully incomplete. Ruth was not just a beautiful woman. She was the woman who’d made him want so badly, and with so little effort, that he’d completely lost control.

“You’ll find out eventually,” Daniel said. Apparently, he took Evan’s silence as a cue to continue.

“Find out what?” Evan asked. He wasn’t remotely interested in anything Daniel had to say, and yet, his upbringing would only allow so much rudeness. He was closely reaching his personal threshold.

“How she is.” Daniel paused to greet a pair of older men in flat caps, his smile wide and genuine. He introduced Evan with grace and charm, and Evan wondered how the man who had been so cruel to Ruth could seem so thoroughly… decent.

They went on, the newsagent in view now, but their pace so meandering that it might take another five minutes to reach.

“We were at school together,” Daniel continued, as if the conversation had never stopped. For someone who didn’t like Ruth, he really liked to talk about Ruth. “I’m older than her, but… She lost all her friends, you know.” Daniel paused. “She destroys relationships.”

Evan pushed down his rising temper. “I don’t think that’s any of my business. Or yours.”

“I’m just warning you. If you want a girl in this town, you won’t get one with Ruth sniffing around. All the women in Ravenswood know what she is.”

“Good thing I don’t want a girl.”

Daniel gave him a sideways, knowing look. “Because you want Ruth, right? I get it. She’s kind of cute, in her own little way. But I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

It was funny, because Evan had been thinking that, too. Not about himself, but about Ruth. He didn’t want to see her get hurt. He’d touched her because he wanted to, in the way his body wanted to draw breath. And then something had changed. Some odd tension had fallen over the room, and she’d stopped him, and he’d been struck with dread at the thought that he might’ve done something wrong. He did not want to see Ruth get hurt.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he said.

Daniel nodded sympathetically, falling into a silence that lasted until they reached the newsagent. If Evan was watching this interaction from afar, he might think that Daniel really meant well.

He was like a seller at the market, Evan decided, turning bad fruit over so shoppers couldn’t see the mould.

Mrs. Needham, proprietor of Needham’s Newsagent, was one of those who didn’t see the mould. She cooed like a demented dove when Daniel stepped through her door, and Evan’s presence only seemed to magnify her excitement.

The woman bustled out from behind the counter, throwing her hands in the air as if she’d found a long-lost son. “Daniel!” She trilled, reaching up to pat his cheeks. “How are you?”

“I’m very well, thank you, Beverly. Have you met my friend Evan?”

“Oh, yes!” Mrs. Needham turned her watery, blue eyes to Evan. “Our newcomer! I’d never forget a face so handsome!”

Of course, the few times Evan had come in here alone, Mrs. Needham had barely said a word—except to warn him about the shop’s 360 CCTV. But Evan dredged up a smile anyway, as if they really were friendly. He’d never embarrass a lady.

He’d love to embarrass Daniel, though. Every time he saw such an awful man treated like royalty, the injustice of it gnawed at Evan’s gut.

Another old woman appeared in the doorway behind the counter, apparently emerging from the shop’s back room. She had an armful of Kit Kat boxes, but she set them aside as soon as she set eyes on Daniel.

“Well, good afternoon, darling!” She cried, pulling off her silver spectacles. Brushing her hands on the front of her linen trousers, she shuffled out from behind the counter, too.

Resigned to a long and effusive visit, Evan floated off towards the magazine rack.

There were kids’ magazines lining the bottom shelves; they screamed about Disney Princesses or Charlie and Lola. One featured the face of a disturbing cartoon pig. Evan skimmed past those to the next shelf, which was filled with what appeared to be American gossip magazines.

He stared for a moment, frowning at the incongruous row of paper rags, their front pages splashed with headlines and images more audacious than anything he’d ever seen.

“Oh, you’ve found our imported stock.”

He jumped slightly, and turned to find Mrs. Needham standing beside him. Apparently, he was more than worthy of attention now. Or perhaps she was just making sure he didn’t intend to steal anything.

“These are from the U.S., right?” He asked.

Mrs. Needham nodded. “Strange, I know. Daniel’s wife, Laura, started requesting a few, and next thing we knew, all the town’s girls were buying them! We have a regular shipment, now.” She looked proud as punch. “It’s expensive sometimes, but Laura’s always happy to buy up any extra. The Burnes are such a help to this town.”

Ah. That explained Daniel’s warm welcome.

“I’m sure that’s not what you want, though.” She peered up at him, and Evan realised that she was right. He’d come over to the magazine stand looking for something specific.

He wanted to see if they had any comics. For Ruth.

Before he could open his mouth to say as much, Mrs. Needham plucked a magazine from the middle rack. “This is very popular with our menfolk,” she said conspiratorially. The glossy magazine read, CLASSIC CARS. “I think we even had one of those, around here,” Mrs. Needham murmured, tapping the little green car on the front cover. A frown creased her wrinkled brow.

“I’m not much of a car guy,” Evan admitted.

She shook her head, as if to displace a buzzing fly. “Nonsense. Here, Daniel, darling.” Waving the magazine over at the counter, where Daniel stood, she said, “Didn’t you have a car like this?”

Daniel squinted at the image. “Not exactly,” he said, his voice slow. “That’s a Lancia Flaminia GT.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Needham pouted. It was an… interesting look, on a woman her age. “But you know the one I mean, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” Daniel said. And his gaze settled firmly, strangely, on Evan.

“The green one,” Mrs. Needham prompted, as if he hadn’t said yes.

“That’s it.” Daniel’s green eyes seemed to burn into Evan’s skin.

Mrs. Needham added, “The one that Kabbah girl smashed to pieces.”

Evan turned and walked out of the shop.

“Sir?” He heard the other woman call after him. “Sir? Are you alright?”

He ignored them.

Evan had a rule when it came to other people’s business. He tried not to pick it up anywhere but the horse’s mouth. Of course, in a town like this, people fell over themselves to pour gossip into the ears of strangers.

Which Daniel clearly fucking loved.

Evan walked fast, his heart pounding. He didn’t know why, but he was certain that if Daniel came after him right now, he’d lose it.

In fact, he did know why. He knew exactly why. He thought about the hours he’d spent with Ruth the other day, about how simply and passionately she’d answered all his questions, about how eager she was to talk about comics, of all things. She was a sweetheart, even with all her grumbling and awkwardness and short, sharp words.

He’d wanted to befriend her, but that wasn’t all he wanted. Not anymore. Not at all.

Evan wasn’t exactly surprised to realise that his feet were taking him to the town’s car park. He watched the slab of Tarmac draw closer as he walked, almost dreamlike. It was the one place in town guaranteed to be busy; the council hadn’t added more spaces as Ravenswood grew, so finding a bay was always a battle. Nevertheless, Evan reached the place where he and Ruth had first met without any difficulty.

Apparently, even the cars circling like slow vultures, looking for spaces, didn’t want to mess with Evan Miller just then.

He looked down at the hard Tarmac where Ruth had fallen. He wasn’t sure he was in precisely the right space, but it seemed right; a few feet from the leafy central reservoir, in line with the town’s library across the street. Evan stared at the innocuous space, that mundane piece of the world whose significance only he knew.

There was no-one else who would look upon that place and think about hypnotic, angry eyes; no-one else who would see a hard-won smile or a perilous stack of comic books. Even Daniel fucking Burne wouldn’t see that.

Or would he?

I’m the town Jezebel.

Evan shook his head, dislodging the thought. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that standing here, thinking about Ruth, sent a familiar warmth surging through his blood.

He had no idea what had happened the other day. Well, that wasn’t true; he knew very well that he’d lost control, moved too fast, and generally fucked up. When he thought about the way she’d looked, the way she’d touched him, the silk of her skin beneath his lips…

Jesus.

But that part didn’t matter to anyone but Evan and his cock. The thing that mattered was the fact she’d pulled away.

He’d been trying to figure out, these past few days, if she’d meant Not now or Not like this or Not ever. If she wasn’t so fucking… Ruth, he’d just ask her. But he had a feeling, if he did anything so blunt, she’d avoid him for the rest of their lives.

She didn’t trust him. Not entirely. But something inside him was desperate to prove that she could.

With a sigh, Evan ran a hand over his face and turned away. If he wanted a chance to eat lunch, he needed to go back to work.

He jammed his hands into his pockets as his mind ran through possibilities, memories, fantasies. The fantasies were the worst part. He’d imagine Ruth smiling as she opened the door to him, not just because she wanted to eat or to talk, but because she wanted him. He imagined her touching him, not the way she had a few days ago, but the way a partner would. Casually, pointlessly, simply because she couldn’t stop herself.

Something about her made him hunger and thirst like an unnatural creature, as if she were more than addictive—as if she were vital. And yet, she was so fragile. The friendship they’d built would be so easy to shatter, if he pushed. He knew it.

So he wouldn’t push. He’d make his own position clear—not with words, because she’d hate that, but in any way he could. And then he’d let her do the rest. If she wanted him, eventually, she’d show it.

It wasn’t a solution, but then, Ruth wasn’t a problem.

Plus, it helped to have his feelings clearly labelled in his mind. He wanted her. He’d take her any way he could, and if that meant waiting a thousand years for her to trust him, he’d do it. And if he was mistaken, and she didn’t want him at all… Well, he’d think about that some other time.

Evan was a simple man. Give him a plan, and he was content.

He headed back to Burne & Co. and found Daniel hovering by the doors.

“Hey,” Daniel began. He moved forward with an apologetic look on his handsome, shitty face. “I’m sorry if—”

“It’s fine,” Evan said, walking past him.

“It’s just, I know it must be a shock.” Daniel hurried after him, voice painfully earnest. “And I know you like her.”

“Daniel.” Evan turned, looking the other man in the face, keeping his own carefully blank. “I said, it’s fine.”

Daniel studied him for a moment, green gaze clashing with blue. Then he shrugged and said, “Alright, mate.” From the sympathetic look on his face, he clearly assumed that Evan’s eyes had been opened. That he’d seen Ravenswood’s collective light and decided to avoid ‘that Kabbah girl’.

Nothing could be more wrong.