dash

After our early morning scare with Mason, Evie decided to take a cab back to her mom’s for a few hours. I offered to drive her, but she insisted she was only going to grab a few things while everyone else was at work.

I didn’t put up much of a fight. Not only was I still exhausted from a late night and a hectic morning, I could tell she needed a few minutes to get her mind right before our talk with Mason this afternoon.

When I wake a few hours later, she’s still not back and I have some time to kill before my shift at the bar. I was a little surprised she’d been gone for so long. Between her fear of Mason discovering our secret and both him and her mother finishing up their work week, we hadn’t spent any time there since she came home. I know she’s nervous about this afternoon. If I’m being honest, so am I, but I also know it’s what needs to be done. Not only does Mason deserve to know what we’ve been keeping from him, I’m sick of lying and having to hide my relationship with Evie.

Out of both my worry for her and my own selfish desire to see her, I’m in my truck and on my way before the caffeine has even set in good.

I walk in to find the house dark and empty. She’d said she was still here when I texted her, but from the looks of it, no one is. I’m about to call her when the sound of the radio playing in her bathroom stops me, pulling me up the stairs two at a time.

When a quiet crash and a string of profanity escapes from beneath the bathroom door, her hushed laughter tugs at my lips.

She has got to be the loudest person on the planet.

I push her bedroom door shut behind me, making my way toward her bathroom.

“Babe?” I call out, unsure if she’s heard me over the radio.

A step closer to the door reveals the sound of running water, so I assume she’s in the shower. I’m considering joining her when my eyes roam over her bedroom, the bag she’d come to get in the first place distracting me. It’s lying empty in the middle of her bed beneath a heap of clothes she’d pulled from her closet.

I move closer for a better look, cringing at the size of it and wondering just how much crap she’s planning on bringing to my apartment. With the two she had when she arrived on my doorstep, there was already signs of her everywhere.

How much shit does one tiny, loud-mouthed woman need?

The disaster that is currently my bathroom pops into my head and I internally cringe thinking about it.

Jesus… I’ve never seen so much mascara.

I hate how much thoughts like this bug me. I love having her at my place, but we’re on day two and it’s already starting to not feel like my place anymore.

I love Evie, but this commitment shit freaks me the fuck out even though I know it shouldn’t. Not because I’m a cheater, my list of faults is long and ugly, but you won’t find that on it. No, the reason it freaks me out is because I’d gotten pretty used to people not wanting to stick around.

Aside from Mason, my mom is the only person who ever lasted beyond the walk of shame the morning after. Even the clingy ones eventually took the hint, not that it was ever a subtle one, and took off before shit got too real.

This ain’t that.

I wanted to get over my fear, embrace the shit and just enjoy the next part with Evie. Yet despite my stance on finding a fear and chasing it down, everyone had something that was hard to let go of.

Mine just happened to be this.

I’m lost in my thoughts when the smell of something familiar hits my nostrils.

What the fuck?

I take the two steps that separate me from the door and push it open, finding her standing in front of the mirror in a matching burgundy bra and panty set she’d surely swiped from the underworld to defeat me.

As she glances over her shoulder, her long, wavy, blonde locks sway over her waist, somehow pulling my gaze from her ass to her face. I’m about to meet her eyes when the combination of the smell and the haze have me stopping at the lighter hovering over the insanely feminine, rhinestone embellished, hot pink pipe she’s holding to her lips.

“Baby!” I call out over the Queens of the Stone Age track blaring from her speakers as she turns to face me fully.

I’m silently commending her for her improving taste in music, but am distracted by her inhaling a thick cloud of smoke into her lungs as she takes in my shocked expression.

“Yeah?” she manages, her voice strained as she holds in the hit.

“What the fuck?” I ask, barely holding in the amusement. “Are you seriously getting high in the bathroom?”

Her eyes shoot to the side, seeming to consider if there’s any way to get out of the conversation before she finally shrugs.

“I put your oldies on for you,” she gestures toward the speaker. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Babe, I listen to classic rock, not oldies.”

“Same differ-”

“Not the same thing!” I cut her off with a smirk, shaking my head. “And this song is new.”

“Really?” she asks, her eyebrows quirking. “It sounds like the stuff you listen to.”

“Well, I do, baby. I’m just sayin’ that it’s not classic…” I trail off, shaking my head clear before I push the door shut and face her. “Stop trying to distract me, Evie! Since when do you smoke weed?”

“Um…” she thinks, her eyes moving toward the ceiling in concentration. “What year is it?”

“Are you serious?” I balk back at her, this time my laughter barely contained as I lean against the door.

“Right…” she smirks, finally blowing the smoke out as she hops onto the sink and faces me, eyeballing the lipstick that hits the floor when she does before returning her gaze to mine. “You want some, baby?”

Her eyes are bloodshot, heavy as she leans against the mirror behind her. Her arms and legs hang lazily from the top of the sink. As she lets the numbness fill her, she slowly reaches for her diet coke and drains it in one long sip.

“Jesus Christ, I’m fucking Tommy Chong…” I rub my palms over my face and release a low groan despite the chuckle sitting in my chest. “Does your brother know you’re a pothead?”

“We’re all alone. Why are you whispering?” she asks as her lips begin to tilt upward when I shrug dumbly. “Dash, I think we’ve established there are lots of things my brother doesn’t know about me,” she says as she tugs on my jeans, pulling me forward until I’m standing between her legs, still dangling from the bathroom sink. “Come on,” she rests her chin against my chest, her voice morphing into that of a teenage stoner from a movie as she peers up at me through heavy eyes. “You’re in control, you can quit any time you want to,” she says, making me grin down at her. “Seriously, it’s good shit. Smoke with me before we go back to your place.”

“You’re a disaster of a person,” I tease, tugging her hair as I brush the pad of my thumb over her bare waist. “You know that, right?”

“Mhmm,” she nods, gazing up at me in a haze and making me smile wider before I let out a sigh.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were a conductor on the Mary Jane train?”

“You’re so dumb,” she giggles as she grips my sides and her head falls lazily against my chest, recovering a moment later and hugging herself closer. “I only smoke when I need to focus on a project or I get really stressed out.”

I nod silently as I press my lips to her hair, her fingertips slipping under my t-shirt oddly soothing.

“Gotcha,” I say low. “So, which is it?”

“Which is what?” she asks, making my lips quirk up on one side.

“Focus, Cheech,” I tease as I playfully pinch her side, pulling her heavy eyes back to mine, her lips spreading into a smile. “Why are you smoking today? Stress or a project?”

“Stress,” she admits with a sigh as her eyes leave mine again.

“About what?” I ask, tugging on her hair until she tilts her eyes back up toward mine. “Your brother?”

She studies me for a moment, unsure. I’m not sure if that’s due to me or her, before she finally answers me with a slight nod.

“Yep,” she admits. “Among other things.”

“What other things?” I ask, watching her slowly shake her head before her eyes flutter shut and she releases a sigh.

“I don’t really want to talk about it right now. It’s gonna harsh my buzz.”

I watch her replace her cheek to my chest, her arms squeezing my midsection tighter. I continue to brush her skin with my palm, hating the unusual uncertainty radiating from her small frame.

There’s a part of me that hates to see Evie struggling with anything, she’s usually so well put together that it’s completely out of character for her to not just know what she wants and run with it.

However, there’s another part of me that finds comfort in the fact that she’s willing to show me a side to her so few have ever seen. It’s never easy to be vulnerable, but I get the feeling it’s even harder for a girl like Evie. The fact that she’s letting me witness it firsthand tells me she’s finally given me something she never has before now.

Her trust.

I get more than anyone how terrifying that can be.

Shaking myself free of the thought that’s threatening to put a lump in my throat, I glance down at her again and tug on her hair again.

“Come here, ya train wreck,” I say low, the feel of her arms moving to wrap around my neck as she pulls me to her lips sending a jolt through me as I cage her in, propping myself up on the edges of the sink. My thumbs brush against her thighs as she teases my lips with her tongue and despite the fact that the smoke has cleared the room, as I pull away, I find myself feeling hazy from her lips alone. “So, you’ve finally hatched your evil plan, huh?”

“What evil plan?”

“Don’t try denying it now, ya damned hippie,” I tease, meeting her eyes. “I might not be as smart as you, but I finally figured it all out.”

“Did ya?” she narrows her eyes. “And what exactly have you figured out?”

“Your plan to seduce me with your drugs and lacy lingerie,” I husk, glancing down at her skin, teasing the charm dangling from her belly button before I flatten my palm against her waist and move slowly up to her bra. “With a rack like this, you’ve probably got a whole army of idiots ready to run product across the border for your hot little ass and you’ve just been buttering me up to join the ranks.”

“Uh oh…” she whispers, batting her eyelashes as I meet her gaze before smirking slightly as she whispers up toward the air conditioning vent directly above her in the ceiling. “He’s onto us.”

Her words make me chuckle, her heavy, bloodshot eyes dancing in amusement as they meet mine and with a quick glance at the time on her phone, I kiss her forehead and stand upright.

“Alright, fuck it,” I shrug, taking the pipe from her perfectly manicured fingers. “Gimme a light.”

“Are you serious?” she asks, her eyes going slightly wide as I begin tamping it down.

“Looks like it,” I say, meeting her eyes. “You better never tell anyone I smoked out of this fuckin’ thing, though.”

“What’s wrong with my bowl?” she asks, her head tilted slightly in offense and we both glance down at it and then back at each other.

“It’s about one rhinestone away from ovulating.”

“You’re about one rhinestone away from ovulating!” she blurts defensively, my expression making her grip her stomach in laughter as she leans against the mirror behind her.

“Jesus,” I snort. “How much did you smoke before I got here?”

“Hmm,” she sighs, still recovering from her fit of giggles. “So much…”

“You’re like the crazy hot, evil spawn of Willie Nelson,” I shake my head in amusement. “Alright, baby. Let’s get lit in the bathroom.”