Embrace (Evolve Series #2) (19 page)

“I thought I’d come by and say goodnight.” Whitley’s
voice comes from beside me and I look up to find her blue eyes zoned in on Jenee.

“Hey, Whit.” Sawyer gets up and gives her a hug,
eyeing Thad. “Sawyer Beckett, and you are?”

“Th-Thad Conner.” I can see his hand shaking from
here as he offers it.

Sawyer gives him a brisk, and I’m sure painful,
shake and then introduces them both to our dates. I say nothing because I’ve
already played nice with the fagbag one too many times; my angry glare only
leaves him long enough to return to Whitley, hers still zoned in on my date.

“Do you two want to join us?” Jenee asks politely,
almost as polished as Whitley would have done.

“Thank you, but I’m afraid we can’t. I have a plane
to catch.” Thad straightens his tie as he speaks.

“That’s right, well let’s go then. Bye, Ev, Sawyer.
Nice to meet you both.” Whitley gives a small wave and turns to go with
him
.

“Bye, Whit,” I respond, my aggravation evident.

My head turns of its own volition and watches her
walk out, gray skirt swishing with each flick of her hips until she’s
completely gone from view.
A plane to catch?
Is he some out of town
secret? Someone she dated back home? How long was he here? Is he what she had
planned when she couldn’t hang with me the other night?

There it is—that familiar pain in my chest telling
me I’ve blown it—again. If ever there was a guy better at complete lack of
timing or finesse with making a big move at the exact moment she needs you to
make it, I’d love to meet his ass and gladly hand over the title that hangs
around my neck like a noose.

Fuck.

“Evan.” I snap my head back to Jenee, who puts a
hand on my arm and speaks. “Why is she not the one here with you tonight?”

Is there a right answer to this question? This feels
suspiciously like a trick question that probably ends with another blast of
cold water to my face. I’m being reeled in by the elusive female mind, begging
me to trap myself right into a smacking or glass of ice cold water to the face.

But no, as I look for her tell, the twitch of an
eye, flare of a nostril…I sense only empathy in Jenee’s soft voice and gentle
touch on my arm.

Still, I have to go on instinct.

“She’s just a friend. I’m having a great time with
you.”

Not a total lie. As far as recent dates go, this
girl wins hands down.

“Good answer,” Sawyer says in a cough.

Jenee darts her eyes to him, warning him to butt
out, then turns her warm, understanding brown eyes back to me. “Are you ready
to get out of here?”

“Absolutely.” I rise, helping her with her chair
before pulling out my wallet. “Will you wait and pay, Saw?” I ask as I toss money
down on the table.

“On it. You kids have fun now.” He salutes us with a
shit-eating grin.

“Nice to meet you, Hailey,” I offer as sincerely as
possible. Truth is, she’d offered little to the evening except exhibitionism.

“Bye,” she giggles before smothering herself in
Sawyer’s neck, our exit obviously her green light to resume festivities.

I usher Jenee out with a hand to her back, and once
outside realize we’d arrived in separate cars.

“Did you want to do something else, or—”

“Evan,” she raises a hand to my cheek, “let’s just
have some fun, hmm? How about a drink, some dancing?”

“Sure, where’d you have in mind?”

I know of exactly two bars, and while my I.D. is
pretty legit, how embarrassing would it be to get turned away in front of her?

Safe bet it is.

“Ya know what? I know just the place. Let’s take my
truck.” With that, I nudge her and lead us to where I parked, helping her up
into the beast. Her skirt tightens as she climbs in, offering a fantastic view
that I genetically appreciate.

Once settled, her long legs cross at the ankle.
“Thank you,” she says smoothly, adjusting her skirt.

“Of course,” I answer, shutting the door and moving
quickly to climb in my side.

“You know The K?” I ask her, once in the truck.

“Yes,” she snickers.

“Oh, ok. That good then?”

“Wonderful.”

I’m missing something, I think. I’m not much of a
talker, so the ride could be silent and it wouldn’t bother me any, but Jenee is
of a different opinion.

“Do you go to The K often, Evan?”

“I wouldn’t say often, but when I do go out, it’s
usually there.”

“So you don’t go out much?”

“Not really. I like a cold beer as much as the next
guy, but I’m not big on the club scene. You?”

“I love to go out, especially to dance. That’s what
I want to do one day, dance professionally, in a big city.” Her voice lifts,
like she’s dreaming of just that while she says it. “I’m GM of a gym right now,
but just to pay the bills.”

Good for her. Everyone needs a dream, but as if I
didn’t know before, it’s settled; Jenee and I will only ever be friends. You
will never get me to live in a big, ritzy city, hobnobbing with the elite,
clubbing for exposure with famous artists. No, sir.

I probably don’t have to think so deep into first
dates and could just go with the flow and have some casual fun, but casual and
Evan Allen aren’t familiar. Parker had nailed it on the head—I’m a romantic.
Take it or leave it.

We’re here, so I help her out of the truck and hold
her arm as we walk in. Something about girls in stilt heels just screams “face plant”
to me. The place is packed, loud beats vibrating the walls as hard as the
bodies on the floor.

“You want a drink?” I try not to yell at her.

She bobs her head up and down. “Bay Breeze, extra
pineapple please.”

“You okay here or you wanna get a table first?” I
again have to almost scream in her ear.

“I’m gonna dance. You grab a table and come find me,
k?”

I nod, hating that plan. God knows we should stick
together, but she’s sober, and we’re not cozy enough for me to be bossing her
around…
No, I just can’t do it.
I catch up to her, grabbing her elbow.

“Jenee, why don’t you come with me to the bar, then
we’ll wander together?”

“Aren’t you the sweetest thing?” She kisses my cheek
and pats my chest. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“All right,” I begrudgingly concede, walking away
slowly, trying to keep her in my sights as long as possible, which isn’t long
once she moves herself into the middle of the pack on the dance floor.

The bar is packed. I’ve never seen it quite like
this in here, and I’d bet money at least three fire codes are being broken
right now. When I get close enough, the line barley creeping, I see Tate
tending, sweat rolling down the sides of his face. And scrambling beside him,
actually running into him and dropping stuff more than actually serving any
drinks, is Zach. Ah, this is too good, I cross my arms and watch in amusement.

“What can I get—oh, Evan, thank Christ!” Zach is
extremely happy to see me. “Text or call Sawyer
now
, and tell him to get
his ass down here! DJ Funky something, local celeb I guess, came in and took
the tables. Look at this fucking place!”

“You guys okay?” Dane walks in behind the bar,
frantically searching Tate and Zach’s reactions. “I’m closing the door, we’re
well at max.”

“Good!” Tate yells over his shoulder at him. “Start
paying people to go home! And where the hell is Sawyer?”

“I’ll find Sawyer!” I assure them.

Dane’s head jerks to me now. “Evan, hey, how are
you? Yeah, if you could track down Sawyer, that’d be great. You guys good, Tate,
or you need stocked?”

“I don’t know what we need, haven’t had time to
look. How’s Bennett? You’d better have somebody watching them!” He scowls,
concentrating on drink slinging but clearly waiting for Dane’s confirmation.

“I put Brock on them, they’re fine. I’ll check
stock. Evan,” I look up from my phone at Dane, “you got Sawyer? I need him down
here ten minutes ago. Then can you go help watch the girls? Drinks on me, man,
I’d appreciate your help.”

No way am I drinking now. I have to herd in Sawyer
and watch a bunch of girls we all care about in this crowd; I need my wits
about me. “Yeah, I’m on both. Where are they?”

He points. “Table by the stabilizer pole. Look for
Brock, big bald dude in a neon shirt, says ‘Security’ on the back.”

I affirm with my head jerk, turning to fight the crowd.
I hadn’t forgotten Jenee’s drink, I just don’t care anymore. I know one of “the
girls” is Laney, and I don’t like this shit one bit. Surely she doesn’t either,
this place is a madhouse.

The big ass bald dude is not as easy to spot as one
might think. Neon shirt, nope, not jumping out at me, either. Laney sitting at
a table plugging her ears…bingo! I touch her arm and she jumps, her mouth open
and eyes bulging for only a moment as she realizes it’s me.

“Evan!” She leaps up to hug me, a stranglehold around
my ribs.

Something rips me back, her falling away from me,
and I flip around to see…a big ass bald dude.

“Can I help you?” he growls, lip snarled.

“Brock,” Laney grips his arm, “he’s fine. He’s my
friend. Let go!”

The big man, who would eat Sawyer’s lunch like a
snack pack, and that’s saying something, releases his death grip with a
skeptical glare. “Don’t need to handle Mr. Kendrick’s lady.”

“Oh, Brock, stop! Go find the other three, I’m
fine.” Laney pushes him, not that it moves him, but bless her heart for trying.
“Where’s your date?” She turns and asks me, brows scrunched.

“How’d you know I had a date?”

“Whitley may have mentioned it.” She shrugs.

What? Whitley called her? Or—No!

“Is Whitley
here
?” Just like that, my chest
seizes and I see red. It’s something completely different than what I felt when
I knew I was searching for Laney in this mob, and I’ll contemplate that later.
Right now all I want to do is lay hands on Whitley.

“Yes, she’s out there somewhere,” she waves her hand
toward the dance floor, “with Avery and Bennett. She’s fine, Evan.” She rolls
her eyes at me, but then gives me a knowing smile just as fast.

Leave Laney alone and go find Whitley or stay here?
Well, if this isn’t the proverbial crossroads staring me in the face I don’t
know what is. My decision, already made, shocks and excites me in ways that
give me hope and chest pains at the same time.

 I think somewhere in my own deepest recesses, I
knew already, but this makes it so…like the Psalms… I have truly turned the
corner and emerged alive and well on the other side.  It’s like I had an
epiphany—my number one priority has been realized and I feel alive.

Luckily, Brock hasn’t strayed far or taken at least
one corner of one eye off Laney, so I motion him over.

“Can you stay with her? I’ll go find the others!” I
yell ask him.

“Hmm,” he grunts, moving closer to Laney.

“Don’t move,” I tell her before weaving my way into
the mass.

Arms are waving, there’s pushing, grinding, and people
actually falling on the ground. I am never gonna find anyone in this nightmare,
and honestly, I have a hint of vertigo setting in. Fuck this—I push, trying to
make sure it’s not into any ladies, my way to the DJ stand and climb it.

Holding on to the edge of the booth with one hand, I
use the other to bang on the wood, getting Funky Fresh Jam’s attention. “Gimme
your mic!” I yell in his face.

“Shoot, get on,” he dismisses me with a snort and
brush of his hand.

“Dane, the owner, is my boy and he sent me. Now
gimme the mic!” This time I’ve already grabbed the neck of the mic stand,
curling it around to me. “Turn down the music!”

He complies, flipping some switches, and the crowd
stops cold, boos starting to rise through the silence.

“Listen up!” I gulp, summoning the courage for this
totally unlike me grandiose display. “Whitley Suzanne, raise your hand!”

That was okay right? I mean, I didn’t want to
announce her last name, but I also didn’t want to summon any other Whitleys, so
I went with her middle name. Surely there’s not two Whitley Suzannes in the
crowd.

My eyes run the crowd until finally, I see a little
hand pop up, followed by a “Hi, Evan!” squeal from her.

“Hi, Whit.” I laugh in the mic, relief starting to
seep in and restore my blood pressure to normal. “Grab Avery and Bennett and
meet at the table, woman.
Now,
please.”

“Okay, Evan!” she yells back in all her preciousness.
I can’t see her, but I can hear her smile.

“And Jenee, wherever you are,” her hand pops up from
my right, “can you come here?”

The crowd remains still and silent, seeming content
to watch my show, and I see them part for Jenee’s.

“Very impressive,” she says loudly, smiling up at me
where I still hang, one armed, from the DJ booth.

I‘m rather impressed myself.

“I need to take some friends home. This place is too
crazy. You ready?”

“Come down, let these people dance and we’ll
decide.”

Right, good plan.

“Thanks, man. Gimme a two minute head start before
you start the music?” I beg him.

“Bet.” He tries to high five me, realizing I’m using
one hand to hold on and one to hold the mic, slapping the air instead with a
laugh.

I hand him his mic and jump down, grabbing Jenee’s
hand to pull her with me through the growingly antsy sea of people. Whitley,
Avery and Bennett are waiting at the table, as is Dane, his arm around Laney
and a coy grin splitting his face.

“Nice work,” he greets me.

“Sawyer make it in?” I hadn’t had a chance to check
my phone, so I have no idea if he’d gotten my messages and I’d accomplished
that goal.

“Yeah, he just got here. He’s behind the bar now, so
I sent Brock to the door. Thanks for the help.”

“Everyb—” The music starts up, so I try again, in a
much louder voice. “Everybody, this is Jenee.”