Chapter Eighteen

Jamie

This is a bad idea.

I take one last drag of my cigarette before I climb through Eva’s bedroom window. Everyone is still in the kitchen. The tell-tale clinking of silverware against plates lets me know I’m late and they’ve already started eating. 

        I’m surprised I showed up at all.

        After finally passing out once Eva left this morning to get all the shit done for this dinner, I only woke up a little while ago and I’ve spent most of the time since convincing myself not to come down.

        Too bad it didn’t take.

        Declan’s boisterous laughter bangs against the apartment walls and I grit my teeth. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s been here since the afternoon and he’s been making my girl laugh the whole time with his fucked up sense of humor.

         Not. My. girl. The hell is wrong with me? I’m going to hurt her and I’m a selfish motherfucker because I can’t seem to help myself. Last night. The shit she said…

        God, I’m in over my head.

        I look around her darkened room. She’s neater than most but not anal retentive about it. There’s a small pile of clothes on an armchair by the closet, a few pieces of mail and a curling iron on her vanity. She left an open text book laying on her bed with a purple highlighter wedged between the pages. And of course, there’s a to-do list next to her text book. She lives and dies by those stupid lists.  Other than that, everything is nice and tidy. 

        Just like her.

        Eva has a chaotic spirit that’s wrapped up tight in a box of order. Every now and then she allows herself some freedom and flies her freak flag high. Last night was a shining example of her shaking off her shackles of self imposed obedience. But if you pay attention, you can see her untamed heart come through in all kinds of subtle ways.

        When she dances.

         When she gets unnecessarily excited about dumb shit like coffee, the smell of the sea, or that record player she treats like a pet. When she’s angry.

         Even her babbling and other annoying nervous habits are clues to all of the wild that lives deep down. Most people assume she’s just a sweet organized girl— which is true, those are genuine qualities that she possesses.

        But it’s not who she is.

        As if my thoughts have summoned my neurotic little neighbor, Eva breezes into the dark room calling over her shoulder to Nina about getting something but stops short when she spots me. A shy smile playing across those perfect bow shaped lips in the moonlight.

        “Hey...” The word whooshes out on a whisper like she had to concentrate on keeping it from sounding like a question.

I hate it.

  It’s not the actual raising of her voice that bothers me so much.. It’s the fact that she second guesses herself in the first place that always grates. 

         Not that I have anyone to blame but myself for her uncertainty when it comes to us.

         My fingers are itching thread through her hair.  Instead, I dip my hands into my pockets and lift my chin. “Hey yourself.” 

         As much as I want to pull her close I can’t take the idea of letting her in.

         Because girls like her don’t belong in limbo. 

         “You’re late.” A playful smile pulls at that bow shaped mouth.

         “I know.” 

         A beat of tense silence passes between. Eva’s expression shutters, hiding her disappointment as her eyes grow guarded. Her back goes up as she lifts her chin.

         This works, I swallow the saw dust coating my throat. Good thing I showed up. It’d be a shame if I missed the opportunity to fuck up her night.

         I’m such a piece of shit.

        “Yo sweetness!” Declan’s deep voice calls from the living room and acid eats through my lungs at the use of his nickname for her. “Get your fine ass back here. I’m popping the champagne!” 

Everything he does pisses me off but his relationship with Eva is by far my least favorite thing about him.

         “Better go in.” She releases a sigh that is soaked in defeat just as the pop of champagne sounds through the apartment. “We don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea,” she picks up the curling iron from her vanity and fastens a beautiful smile on her face before giving me her back. “Sorry, found a lurk on my way to get Nina’s shit!”        

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, giving myself three more seconds before I follow her out to the group. 

         Declan’s eyes lock in on me and I instantly feel the glee rolling off of him as he takes in my expression. Like a toddler on an elevator, he’s about to push all of my buttons. I’ve never met someone who is just as happy to keep company with friends as he is with his foes. It makes no difference to him if you like him or not because he’s going to have a good time with you either way. 

         “Well look at what the cat dragged in,” he smiles wide. “Sleep well cupcake?”

I ignore him and everyone else as I track Eva. If she so much as looks like she’ll sit next to him, I’m going to blow a gasket. 

         I fucking dare you, Doe Eyes.

         Thankfully she strolls past everyone and rounds her counter, making me a plate of food I definitely don’t deserve after the way I just greeted her. I follow and take a seat in front of her at the counter, suddenly paranoid that Declan will follow us over and I’ll be stuck watching them hang out again. 

         Turns out I’m not so paranoid after all because that motherfucker drops down next to me and leans forward on his elbows.  “You making up second servings, Sweetness?”

        There’s that nickname again.

        Eva snorts, placing my food in front of me but her eyes cut to the blond fuck face at my side. “You’re going to eat me out of house and home.”

        “Oh, I’ll definitely eat you...” 

         Don’t fall for it, Delahunt. 

        I know exactly what he’s doing and I try to ignore his cheap ass attempt to get a rise out of me by concentrating on my food while I fantasize about slamming his face repeatedly into the stone counter.

        But, the sound of Eva’s lilting wind chime laugh pierces my fantasy. “Those are some mighty big words from someone who clearly can’t put his fork down long enough to get the job done.”

        “I do require home cooked meals for my services.”

        “I’ll be sure to buy my groceries in bulk when you move home.” She promises with a wink. Sending a gnarled series of thoughts through my head.

        —She seriously didn’t turn down his invite to eat her out?—

        —Did she just wink at him?—

        —HE’S MOVING BACK?—

         —Fuck it.

        I toss my half-twirled pasta down on the plate. Stand so abruptly I knock the stool on to the floor behind me as I stalk around the counter. I come up behind her and yank her head by her ponytail, eagerly sucking the surprised squeak right out of her throat as I slam my lips down on hers.

        She tastes like red wine and crack, getting me stoned every time I take a hit of that mouth. I kiss her hard, my lips moving against hers with determined strokes, demanding she give me what I want. As soon as I feel the tremor run through her tiny body, I nip at her lip in triumph. The way she shakes drives me crazy; probably my favorite example of that chaos in her blood rattling against the cage she keeps it locked inside.

        “Hey Dec!” Luke call from the living room as Eva stares up at me with rose stained cheeks in stunned surprise. “Look’s like Jamie’s making a point. You paying attention?” He laughs.

        “Hmm? No sorry, I was checking my texts. Been waiting for an important message,” Declan snickers and I can hear him dragging my fucking plate across the counter to steal my food. “Wwwhadd I mwiss?” 

        Eva is smiling up at me and it’s so warm it feels like sunlight. Without thinking I brush a stray lock of hair off her face. No matter how much I need my space, every time she looks at me like this I’m hers.

        I’ll push her away tomorrow.

        “You gonna let him eat my food?” I ask gruffly, failing to fight the smile pulling at my mouth. I’m still standing behind her with her ponytail fisted in my hand. 

        She shrugs with a bratty smirk that makes my dick hard. Then she plucks a piece of ice from the bucket they’re using to chill the champagne and without breaking eye contact with me, chucks it at Declan, hitting him right between the eyes. 

Nice.

        He lets out a startled yipe, dropping my fork to rub his forehead. I make a mental note never to piss her off when she’s holding something she can hurl at me.

        “Declan Carson, put his plate back right now, or you’ll be on dish duty until you’re dead.”

        “Ugh,”He pouts, shoving my plate away with a scoff. “You always take his side.”

I release Eva’s hair, sliding my fingers though it once before I return to my place at the counter.

        “Get used to it,” I grunt, pulling my food to me and shoveling Eva’s delicious pasta into my mouth before he can attempt to steal it again.

        Goddamn, she’s a good cook. 

        The taste of it summons the memory of her rambling in the supermarket line about tomato sauce recipes and I chuckle to myself. Even as annoyed as I was, she still looked mighty fine behind that cart of food laughing at herself.

        “What’s so funny?” She whispers placing a glass of water and a whiskey down in front of me.

        “Just wondering if you used a marrow bone in the sauce or not.” I laugh, not sure if she’s even aware of what she says when she gets like that.

        “Yeah how’d you know—oh,” her eyes thin when she catches on. She leans in close with a smirk, “Keep it up and I’ll throw ice at you too.” Then she takes her champagne glass and heads over to the rest of the group.

        I’m enjoying my view as I watch her settle into her couch when my gaze catches the blindfolded woman hanging on her wall above her head. She has it  matted in a large frame making it the new focal point of the room, and my chest fills with pride that I was the one to give it her.

I gave her something she loves.

Something that makes her happy.

        Out of the corner of my eye I see a fork slide over and stab a meatball on my plate.  Before I can react, Declan has the whole damn thing in his mouth. He chews for a minute before making a big show of swallowing my food and grins at me.

        “What?” I snap.

        “Just happy for ya,” is all he says then stands to finally go fuck off.

        “Ah, almost forgot,” he stops, giving the counter a cheerful knock. “If you hurt her, the shit I’ve had you shoveling up until now will be child’s play compared to what I’ll throw your way.”

        He walks off, leaving me with my half plate of pasta when Luke drops down into the abandoned stool.

        “Your brother is a douchebag.” I don’t even bother looking up as I shovel food into my mouth. I wonder if Eva ate. I always have to force her to eat a real plate at these things and I wouldn’t put it past her to skip out on fear she’ll run out of food. Which is so fucked since she spends hours every week slaving over the meal.

        “Yeah he is,” he chuckles then falls into a weird silence that I’m too engrossed in my food to care about. Then he speaks again. “Eva is great.”

        “Yeah. She is.”

        “She’s not a toy though.”

        My fork stops halfway to m mouth. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

        He holds my gaze. “You know I’m with you no matter what,” he says quietly. “But it’d be nice to not have to watch you self-destruct for once.”

        I drop the damn fork and reach for my whiskey. He means well. More than that, the guy would probably sacrifice his left nut if it meant some kind of secure happiness for me. I totally get what he’s trying to do.

        Fuck him anyway.

        “Hey!” Nina bellows like a marmot from the couch. “Since everyone’s here, what’s the plan for Thanksgiving?”

        “My god, Little Red,” Luke calls over. “We’re barely a day out from our last celebration.”

        She sends him her wet cat look, and before I can blink he’s up from his seat and obediently taking the spot beside her on the love seat, planting a firm kiss to her puckered face. “Seriously, it's like you’ll malfunction if you’re not planning something.” 

        “Well we are short on space this year,” Ryan points out. “I’m game to host again but it’ll be tight.”

        Shit, that’s right, the last two years we had Eva’s place to use as makeshift guest rooms. The Carson’s and Walshes typically prefer to stay the weekend and spread like weeds through Townsend House. Some stay with Ry, some with Nina, and the overflow always took the empty unit, but I guess that’s not an option this year. I glance at Eva who is silently fiddling with the fringe to her throw pillow, a small frown pinching at the corners of her mouth.

        “Well– do you need me to leave?” She asks in a tiny voice. “That way you can use my—“

        “No.” The answer is out of my mouth with finality before she finishes speaking. She’s not offering to take the boot from her home. I know for a fact no one in this room would want that. But it pisses me off that she’d offer at all.

        “What about space—" 

        “We’ll make do.” I cut off her stupid attempt to martyr herself off and level her with a glare. I don’t give a single shit about Thanksgiving but there’s no way in hell I’m letting Eva convince herself that she’s unwelcome in her own goddamn home. “You’re not going anywhere.”

        “Okay but—"

        “I’ll bunk with you. It’ll free up my room, have Spenser or Bryce crash on our couch.” 

         I need to shut the hell up.

        “Don’t worry Eves, we’ll all figure it out,” Luke says with his eyes sharp on me. He’s probably thinking the same thing I am. Wondering how the fuck that set up would work. 

        The conversation moves on but Luke’s hawk-like attention on me doesn’t. At some point the text Declan was waiting on comes in and he rushes out of the apartment like his dick is on fire. Once he’s gone the party begins to break up.

        “Hey man, don’t forget, you told me you’d help move that shit around upstairs,” Luke says as he continues to shark eye me.

        “What shit?” Nina asks, but Luke ignores her which might be a first.

        Part of me wants to tell him to get bent and stay here with Eva, but by the look on his face I have a feeling he’ll make it weird if I don’t cooperate. I turn to Eva and kiss her temple which is only the tenth stupidest thing I've done tonight so why not add to the list.

        “I’ll be right back.”

        Maybe.

        No sooner are Luke and I upstairs that he rounds on me.

        “Does she know?” 

        My back goes stiff and a buzzing starts in the back of my skull.

In the years we’ve been roommates my half spilled secrets have remained an ignored elephant in the room. For him to come out and address anything that’s none of his fucking business so bluntly has me feeling like my ribcage is ripping apart. Intercepting my mail is one thing. Openly calling me out is something else entirely.

        “Don’t do whatever the hell it is you think you want to do right now and answer the question.” Luke challenges.

        “No.”

        He hisses a laugh and runs his hands through his hair like he’s finally reached the end of his rope with me. I can’t exactly blame him but I’m not bending either.

       “Well you have three weeks or so to figure out how to tell her or you’ll have to sleep in the god damn hall on thanksgiving.”

        Wouldn’t be anywhere close to the worst place I’ve slept. But it’s a non option and we both know it. 

        Everyone can hear what happens in the hall.

********

Eva

I’m about to grab a shower to wash off the stale garlic scent that always clings to me after a full day of Italian cooking, when I hear my front door open and the kitchen faucet turn on.

        I follow the racket and walk back into the ruins of another pasta night and stop short when I find Jamie standing at the sink with his sleeves of his gray Henley shirt rolled up, rinsing the dishes. 

        Oh shit, I thought for sure it was Nina.

        I’m surprised he came tonight, shocked he stayed, and straight stunned up that he came back. The Arctic chill to his arrival in my room earlier was about the level of affection I was anticipating. Sure, after everything I’d hoped he had finally let me in, but deep down I knew better.

        Jamie might have given me a glimpse last night. But I don’t think he actually lets anyone in. Even after the surprise kiss he planted on me in front of everyone; the whole display somehow left me glowing from joy and more uncertain than ever.

        I walk towards the kitchen with heavy feet. I’m about to help him clean up but he reaches out, catching me by the hips and jerks his chin to the stools at the counter. 

        “I’ve got it. Go sit.”

        Don’t have to ask me twice. I really am exhausted. He pours me some wine and returns to his work of cleaning my kitchen. I sip my glass of champagne as I watch him. I have to admit— the man looks good in my kitchen. He looks good everywhere… but this sends something flaring in my tummy. 

I  pull my lips between my teeth to prevent any anxious rambling. I don’t feel a fit of babbling coming on, but one can never be too prepared in times like these. 

        He glances up and snorts. “Out with it.”

        “What?” I ask innocently.

         “Whatever nervous nonsense is pushing against that pretty mouth right now.”

Damn he knows me well.

         “I’ll have you know, I don’t have anything pushing against my mouth.” I take a prim sip of wine and look everywhere but his face. “I was trying to preemptively contain it.” 

         His throaty laugh is like music in my quiet apartment as he pushes a plate piled high with pasta and two meatballs towards me. “God, you’re weird.”

         My face splits  into a smile that’s so big my cheeks hurt. He called me weird; like he used to. I want to soak up this moment of normalcy like a sponge I can wring out later when we’re inevitably back at square one. 

        “Eat.” 

         Don’t have to ask me twice. 

         I dig in with gusto savoring my meal. The rich tomato sauce with its sweet floral hints of red wine and basil. The nutty tang from the  Parmesan cheese and the decadence of the meatballs, all the flavors meld together somehow capturing the feeling of home on a plate. I smile dreamily as I shove another massive forkful into my mouth.

         I’m a badass cook.

         “Knew it.” He chuckles, as I inhale the pasta. I know what he’s thinking and he’s technically right.

         “Dis means nuffin,” I mumble around a meatball bite. “I’d be eating like this even if I were full.”  Pasta is meant to be devoured and nothing less

         “But you’re not full, are you?”

         “Don’t ruin this meal for me with your gloating.” I grumble before shoving another baseball sized bite of pasta into my mouth. 

         I finish my plate in record time and lean back with my wine in hand, my tummy satisfied beyond measure. I watch Jamie over the rim of my glass as he finishes cleaning up. 

There’s something so nice… so intimate about this moment. I try to tamp down the pang of longing that hits me. It’s not just for him but the fairytale ending. 

I want it all.

         “So…” I begin tentatively. “Are we going to be all strained and awkward again tomorrow?”

         He slows his work of drying the last pan, placing it carefully into the cabinet then braces his knuckles on the counter keeping his eyes down. 

        “Probably.”

         At least he’s honest.

         It still hurts like hell. We stay in the thick silence. Jamie seems lost in thought as he looks down at my counter. When he finally looks up, something in his expression throws my heart into my throat and my anxiety momentarily gets the better of me. 

        I give a manic awkward wave— because of course that's what I do. 

        My spastic reaction must shake him from some impending funk, pulling a genuine smile out of him. His eyes crinkle and his dimples dig deep into his cheeks as he studies me with this odd pensive expression. 

        “Wait here.”

         He strolls around the counter into my living room and stops at my record collection. He pulls the frayed sleeve of my prized vinyl, placing it gently on Oscar. A couple pops of air later the sound of Edith Piaf’s warm voice sails through the room.

         He takes my hand and pulls me around the counter, and back into my kitchen. 

        “Dance with me.” He clasps my hand in his and wraps his arm tight around my waist. We twirl slowly in the same spot as before, as he softly sings along to her warm coffee voice. I close my eyes as the pang in my chest blooms into a bittersweet ache.

        “Quand il me prend dans ses bras

        Il me parle tout bas

        Je vois la vie en rose”

        This is quite possibly my favorite moment of all my twenty-one years on this earth and I can’t help but feel a bit sad that something as pure and full as this memory, is being given to me on borrowed time.

        Because we both know tomorrow I’ll be out in the cold again.