Now

Evan

“SWEETNESS.”

My tone is gruff; her name sounds strange to my ears, despite her constant presence in my mind. I swallow with difficulty, thanks to the bowling ball of nerves lodged in my throat. Fuck, my palms are sweaty.

Her dark hair—so black it’s almost blue-tinged—fans as she twirls to face me. After two and a half years apart, it’s unfathomable how close we are, so close I could touch her. Clenching my fists, I fight the fierce urge to hold her, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate my bold gesture. To satisfy my craving, my eyes drink her in, every inch of her. I can’t help but stare. She’s breathtakingly beautiful.

Surprised aquamarine eyes nail me as she sucks in a jagged breath and drops the empty tray from her hand. The loud crash and subsequent reverberating clatter has all eyes in the bar on us. We’re at the family bar, The Waters, and while it’s not busy, just a handful of people eating lunch, it’s more than I would prefer. Alone is how I want her.

Doing this here wasn’t my preference. There was never going to be a perfect time. I’d been preparing to come back to her, trying to figure out how to tell them the truth. But now, I couldn’t delay it any longer.

The asshole forced my hand. He got her a ring, a fucking engagement ring. I may not know his plans or timing, but I couldn’t let him propose. No. Fucking. Way.

Time is of the essence. I’m in act now, deal with the consequences later mode.

“Evan.” Her voice quivers and she sways, grabbing the bar to steady herself.

Stepping in my direction, she hesitates, the hint of a frown clouding her features. It’s only a second, but time slows, practically stopping as a myriad of emotions skitter across her face. Is she feeling it too? The memories of our past hitting her in the chest? Memories of when we were together? When I left her, then when she was alone? Fuck, she’s gonna kick me out.

Without warning, Carys hurtles at me, arms and legs hugging me, as she buries her face in my neck. I cling to her slender frame, one arm under her rear and the other around her back as her muffled sobs echo within my chest. I can’t tell if they are tears of joy or sorrow.

Fuck. Holding her after all these years feeds my starved soul, fills my ravaged heart. It’s heaven. Finally, I’m able to breathe — I’ve got my girl in my arms.

Her subtle coconut scent invades my senses, reinforcing my regret about what I had to walk away from. My cock twitches, happy to have her where she belongs. I can’t smell coconut without getting hard. It’s the same shampoo she used years ago, and both the familiarity and the newness comfort and excite me.

Before I’m able to truly relish her body crushed against mine, she wriggles to get free and I reluctantly help her to the ground. She inches away, her head down, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

I wait, reminding myself that I created this situation, and as much as I fucking hate it, I need to wait her out, be patient. Eventually, she faces me with her lips pinched, cheeks flaming, and brow creased as she swallows uncomfortably.

“Sweetness,” I try again, taking a step toward her as she holds up her hand to stop me.

“Evan.”

From behind me, someone interrupts. “Carys, you okay?”

She glances his way, then back to me. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Brushing a stray lock from her face, she inhales deeply. “How are you?” Her voice wavers.

“I missed you.” I’m not able to contain my emotions.

All I want is to have her back in my arms. She needs to know that I missed her and shouldn’t have left her. At the time, it was for the best, but now that I’m through to the other side, I see that perhaps I could have done it another way. Either way, I fucked up. I fucking need her back in my life.

“Are you back? For good?”

Her questions are more clinical than caring. Like her words, her body takes on a rigidity I’m not used to. The strong woman I know and love is very much present, although she’s also holding back. She’s likely remembering that she’s pissed at me, and soon, she’ll end our conversation. I need to move fast.

“Yes, and we need to talk.” I step closer and she edges behind the bar. It’s now a barricade between us. I couldn’t get to her even if I wanted to, and it’s obvious she wants it this way. I hate it, but I get it.

“We don’t have anything to say to each other. Last time we spoke, you made it perfectly clear that we were over.”

“Sweetness.” She visibly recoils at my name for her. “Please talk to me.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

Despite her attempt at apathy, the pulse point in her neck flutters rapidly and her cheeks are the prettiest shade of pink. I’m aroused, knowing she’s rattled and I’m to blame. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t react like this.

“Sweetness…”

“Do not call me that.”

Her bitter tone matches the anger rolling off her, and it physically hurts. Each word pummels me like a heavyweight champion’s punches, but I take it. I deserve it, but I won’t honor her request. She’s only ever been my sweetness, and she always will be.

“Sweetness.”

With a low growl, she darts through the swinging doors into the back of the building. I follow her into the family’s personal space.

“Hey,” the onlooker who interrupted before calls at my back, but I keep going.

She’s halfway up the stairs and I’m on her heels when the guy grabs my shoulder from behind.

“Fucking let go.”

I’m being an asshole to the guy and normally, I wouldn’t. At the very least, I’d thank him for looking out for her, but that’s not gonna happen when he’s in my way. Carys turns to see me forging ahead, with the guy trying to stop me.

“Derek, it’s okay.” I hate that she speaks civilly to him but will barely even glance at me. “I know him. We’re just going to talk.”

“Are you sure?”

His grip tightens as he eagerly waits for her to say the word. This guy has no clue who I am. He has no idea how fast I could take him down, have him unconscious, or worse, end his life without batting an eyelash. I wouldn’t do it, but I could.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Before he can release his hold, I shake him off and follow her into Ma’s space.

We’re now in the narrow hallway of the apartment that was once my home. Standing face to face with Carys, mere feet apart, all I want to do is smile, laugh, and cry. The great memories wash over me, soothing my guilt and regret. I missed this place, my home, my family, and most of all, my woman.

“Talk. You’ve got three minutes, then I want you out.”

She forgets that I know her. We don’t need words for me to see that she’s angry and hurt. It’s in her expression and posture, but there’s also love. Her love for me is as true as the sky is blue.

Even with that, I knew I’d have to work for this. She’s not going to make it easy, and that’s okay. I’ll beg and barter with her. I’ll do anything she wants, as long as she takes me back, or at the very least, gives me a shot. I fucked this up, but once I explain, she’ll understand.

What we have is rare, pure, and true. She won’t walk away from that. At the time, I had my reasons, but no matter how hard I tried to walk away, I couldn’t.

§

Carys

I’M GOING TO BE sick.

Pressing my palm to my stomach, I take in a deep gulp of air, trying to steady my nerves. My insides are a quivering mess. The anxiety of being this close to Evan, having him within arm’s reach, is overwhelming.

I’m vibrating with the intensity of our reunion; it’s physical, all around us. I’d forgotten what it was like with him. That’s not true. I didn’t forget a thing about him, not one damn thing, but I tried.

It’s impossible to erase what it feels like to be this close to him. How our bodies come alive, like the other holds the rhythm to our hearts, the spark to our flame.

I’ve tried to block it out, but now, with Evan here, there’s no denying it. As much as I should hate it, wish that I could hate him, I can’t. I love him, even after all that he did, but that doesn’t mean we have a future together or that I’m willing to give him a second chance.

I’m overwhelmingly glad to see that he’s alive and well, breathing. The not-knowing was eating away at me and while I should be lashing out at him right now, I can’t.

It was one thing to be brokenhearted because he left me, but it was another kind of hurt to wonder if he was dead or alive. Even if we can’t be together, knowing he is in this world, safe, gives me comfort, and that’s all I can think about right now. He’s alive.

“Sweetness, I’m sorry.” His smooth voice caresses my body.

Shivering, I bite my lower lip, wanting a distraction from the ache in my heart. I love the name he gave me, and I haven’t heard it in years. Strangely, it hurts to now hear my nickname from his lips, reminding me of a time when he was mine and I was his.

“I’m sorry for the hell I put you through. I’m back and we’re not over. We’ll never be over.”

His eyes shine in earnest, determination etching every feature, but it makes no difference. He made it clear to me we were at an end and I was not to wait for him. He practically ordered me to move on and said he would do the same. Evan, be careful what you wish for—I’ve moved on.

His strong, taut arm reaches out to me, his fingers attempting to touch me, and despite my body’s instinct to lean in, I force myself to step away. It’s unbearably difficult, but one stroke and I’d be done.

At thirty-five years old, he’s aged somewhat. There are a few more crinkly lines around his eyes, but he’s still insanely gorgeous. The ends of his unruly dark hair curl now that it’s longer than when I last saw him, and it’s definitely longer than the buzz cut he sported when in the Army.

He’s also broader, bigger, if that’s even possible. He’s always been shredded. While in the military, he was taught that his body was a machine and exercise was as essential as breathing.

Standing with him in the tiny hallway, it feels smaller than normal and confirms that he still commands any space he occupies.

“Is that it?”

It’s killing me to be cold, to push him away. My instinct is to forgive him and get back to loving him. That’s all I’ve ever done where Evan’s concerned. In fact, my earliest and fondest childhood memories are of him.

I’ve never told anyone, but truth be told, most of my memories are of Evan, not Ry, my own brother. I love Ry with all that I am, but it’s Evan who captured my heart from as young as I can remember, and he’s never given it back.

I want it back, dammit.

“No, that’s not it.” He smirks, implying he sees through my carefully constructed veneer of indifference. That’s the thing—he knows me, even with these years apart. “We’ve got to talk. I have way more to say to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to. Not right now. I want you to leave.”

Without waiting for a response, I turn toward the kitchen, and his large hands grasp my waist. I gasp at our contact, not anticipating his touch that wallops my insides and throws me off balance.

Being in his arms reminds me of our past, all the times we were close, intimate. The memories mentally beat me black and blue, bruising my heart with all I’ve longed for but feared I’d never have again.

Before I’m able to react or form a coherent thought, he smoothly lifts me onto the counter. Ensnaring my wrists in one of his large hands, he pries my legs open and wedges himself in between. Shit. Evan’s take-charge attitude causes my stomach to churn and my heart to hammer as my nerve endings sizzle and overwhelm my senses.

“Listen to me.” His voice is gruff as he leans in close, our lips almost kissing.

With his warm, minty breath stealing mine, his eyes twinkle with the playfulness and compassion I’ve missed so much. His heady masculine scent sparks my arousal, and my body’s betrayal infuriates me as I tighten my legs around his waist.

His lips widen into a shit-eating grin, as I continue to clench around his body while he thrusts himself into the apex of my thighs. My eyes widen and my mouth opens as his hard bulge rubs where I want him the most, but shouldn’t.

“Stop it.”

I stiffen, fighting the pleasurable sensation of his erection rocking into my most sensitive spot. Heat gathers low in my belly as the delicious friction of our connection creates a fierce ache in my core.

“Then loosen your hold.” He chuckles, although his throaty response reveals he’s faced with the same need I’m battling.

My legs relax and he retreats. His absence leaves me cold, but clears my head and only makes it more pressing that Evan leave because I’m unable to keep my wits around him. I’ve moved on and he needs to leave me alone. Gently pushing on his chest, I try to distance not only my body, but also my mind. Of course, he doesn’t budge.

“Van.” He winces at the name I’ve deliberately called him, a name I’ve never used before. “I’m happy that you’re back. Ma’s missed you, Ry, Tripp, they’ll be so glad to finally have you back, but we’re over. Let’s just be friends.”

As the words leave my mouth, I want to vomit all over them or shove them back in. Let’s just be friends? What the hell?

“What about you, Sweetness?” He’s unfazed by what I said. “Did you miss me?”

“Carys,” Ma calls. He glances over his shoulder, then back to me, his excitement evident in his eyes.

“In here,” I say, pushing him away.

This time he readily moves, and I jump down from the counter. Before I can reach my mother to prepare her, she’s in the kitchen. Cries of shock and glee fill the air at the sight of Evan in the flesh. Like me, she drops the bags in her hands and runs into his arms without hesitation.

His deep, hearty laugh as he kisses and twirls her around makes me weak in the knees. That, coupled with the slickness between my thighs, leaves me unsettled and tight with tension. His being here batters at my fortress. I need to keep the walls intact and him out.

“Oh, my lord, Evan James Hart! I’ve prayed for the day I’d lay eyes on you again. Let me look at you.” Her hands cup his scruffy jaw and he lovingly peers down at her.

“Ma, I’ve missed you.” He kisses her on the cheek.

“I’ve missed you, too, my dear boy. Let me fix dinner and you can tell us where you’ve been.” Releasing him, she gathers the grocery bags from the floor.

“Ma, I have to go.”

I must leave. I can’t stomach dinner with them. It’d be reminiscent of the way it used to be before he left me, and like a shovelful of dirt, those memories would bury me in the past. I can’t do this, can’t be near him.

“What?” Ma stops mid-task, her gaze narrowing on me. She’s shrewd and knows why I must go. “Aye, my dear. You go on then.”

With a grateful exhale, I avert my gaze to the floor. She knows our history. She had a front row seat to how our childhood friendship morphed into more, and she was there when he left me. Most importantly, she was there after Evan, as I picked up the pieces of my heart, my life, and tried to start over again.

She wanted me to wait for him, but as time wore on, she stopped mentioning him. While she believed he’d return, she gave me the space to figure out what I wanted.

I wonder what she’ll do now that he’s back. I shudder—I can’t handle her meddling, which she’s not above doing. I’ll never get back together with Evan Hart. Never. We’re over.

“Thanks, Ma.” With a quick kiss, I’m out the kitchen door.

“Sweetness.”

Peering over my shoulder, my breath catches. He’s leaning out the doorway with his arms bracing his weight on the doorframe, the very same thing he used to do when we were younger.

“What?” My voice cracks.

“You have to eat. Stay.”

“I can’t. My boyfriend’s waiting for me.” I fire my only shot, hoping to hit my mark.