Ever Always (8 page)

A
s they arrived at their destination, Ever wanted to see everything at once, soak it all in, but she also missed her mountains and valleys and her creek back home. Driving over the bridge from the mainland to the island was terrifying. All of that blue expanse beneath her, the great big sky spreading out above her made her feel very, very small and inconsequential.

It scared her.

Hunter continued to glance over at her with increasing frequency as he drove.

“You okay?” he finally asked.

She nodded. “No.”

Then she shook her head. “Yes.”

He laughed. “Me, too.”

She groaned. “This is all just too much. I haven't seen Sam in so long. My stomach is tied up in knots. What if…”

She couldn't bear to finish the thought. Someone was going to get hurt. Everyone already was. All because of her.

“Never mind,” she muttered. Instead, she stared out the window at the lush greenery surrounding her. They'd driven a little ways away from the ocean and were heading up a state road toward the address Sam had given them.

The turned onto an obscure gravel drive that lay almost invisible within the cover of the tall trees surrounding it, and Ever gripped the side of her seat until her knuckles were white. The shit was about to hit the fan, big time.

The truck came to a stop, but they were clearly nowhere near the home.

“What?” she asked, looking over at Hunter.

He leaned over the console, getting into her personal space and eyeing her closely. The deepness of his gaze and the seriousness of his expression was stoic, and the blood in her veins froze up for a split second before she realized what he was up to.

“Go,” he said.

They stared. They stared at each other, neither blinking nor allowing their eyes to wander anywhere else. But she couldn't deny the fact that her eyes desperately wanted to take in every inch of his face. She wanted to bring her fingers up to rub against his rough jawline; she needed to feel the softness of his lips against hers again before this weekend began.

But she just stared.

Finally, he cursed and blinked the moisture back into his eyes.

“I win!” she said triumphantly.

“I know,” he sighed. “You ready, now that we got that out of the way?”

She nodded. “Ready.”

“Let's go see my brother.”

When the house came into view, all the breath Hunter had just put back into her lungs whooshed right back out again.

“It's enormous!” And when she said enormous, she meant
enormous
.

“Mother of Jesus Christ,” gasped Hunter as he slowly drove around the circular stone driveway.

“What you said.” Ever couldn't believe it. “Sam lives
here
?”

He did, apparently, because there he was, his lanky six-four frame loping out to meet them.

She was frozen as Hunter stepped out and said something glib about parking the dusty truck in front of such a house, and Sam answered him just before they hugged.

Then he was beside her door.

Said door was wrenched open, and then she was in his arms for the first time in three months.

His sheer size enveloped her completely, and she was thrust right back into the life they shared what now seemed like ages ago.

Lifetimes ago.

She'd hugged Sam like this so many times before; they clung to each other for hours in his bed at night, in the woods beside the creek, in the school parking lot. And in Sam's embrace, she'd always felt just a little less desperate, just a little less scared, just a little less broken.

His embrace did none of that anymore.

Because she was no longer desperate. She was no longer scared. She was no longer broken.

Okay, maybe she was still a little broken. But she was no longer certain that Sam was going to be the one to fix her. He'd been gone for three months, and she was less broken because she'd been fixing
herself.

All those thoughts crossed into her brain, circled it madly, and ran out again in the span of the few seconds she was scooped into Sam's arms. He released her and held her at arm's length.

“Ever,” he breathed. “You look good.”

She stared down at herself and then back into his warm brown eyes. Eyes that were so familiar but now seemed so far away. How could she find her way back to him again?

“This is where you've been living?” she asked. She tried, and failed miserably, to keep the awe out of her voice.

“I told you it was big,” said Sam. “But I don't live in there. I can take you guys down to the tack house where I've been staying.”

“Oh, that sounds more like it,” Hunter said. “They put the help in the outhouse.”

Sam laughed. “Wait until you see it. It's far from an outhouse.”

Her eyes darted to Hunter's. She and Sam had been exchanging letters and she'd spoken to him on the phone a few times. But the sheer
happiness
in Sam's voice was seriously throwing her off her game. It wasn't that she didn't want him to be happy. She wanted that for him with every single cell in her body. But the fact that he'd found such happiness here, in this kind of place that she could never see herself in a million years, was utterly perplexing.

He led them around the stupidly large main house and down a dirt path leading through the gorgeous property to a smaller guesthouse a quarter of a mile away. She couldn't keep from staring around her in wonder.

“It's beautiful here,” she said softly.

“It's a nice vacation spot,” mumbled Hunter behind her.

He was right, of course. This would be an amazing vacation spot. But it sure wasn't home.

The inside of Sam's little house was even more perplexing. It was considered a tack house. But it was nicer than the very nicest hotel Duck Creek could boast. He was definitely living larger here than he'd ever lived, and she realized as she studied him that it agreed with him.

Sam had always been a big, strong guy, but his frame somehow seemed even more muscular now than when he'd left. His short brown hair was actually styled, and his clothes were much trendier than any she'd ever seen him wear.

He looked like an even better version of himself, and that terrified Ever.

Did she look like a better version of herself to him? When she met his questioning gaze, she knew he was thinking the exact same thoughts. And then his gaze moved to Hunter and her stomach dropped down past her knees. She sank onto the leather couch.

Sam explained that they'd be staying at home tonight, and her insides cringed when he said the word
home
. They ordered dinner, and while they were waiting for it to arrive, she grabbed her suitcase and announced that she wanted to get ready for bed.

Sam stood. “Hunt, I'll make up the couch for you to sleep. This place isn't big enough for a guestroom.”

A knot formed in Ever's stomach as Hunter replied, “What about Ever?”

Glancing at Ever, Sam frowned. “We've slept together a lot of nights. I'm sure we'll make it.”

Ever turned and slipped into Sam's room. Sam joined her after a couple of minutes, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Feeling the strange knot of unease growing in her stomach, she padded into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She really had slept in the same bed as Sam, numerous times. But now, everything was different. Awkward. And eventually, she would have to explain to Sam the reason why.

“Feeling the effects of the long trip?” he asked her when she exited the bathroom.

Nodding, she squeezed past him and climbed up onto the big four-poster bed. She watched as Sam inspected her from head to toe. Frowning, he reached up and tugged on his earlobe. She couldn't help smiling at the familiar gesture. It was the first smile she'd given him since she arrived.

 “Still got your nervous tic, I see,” she said.

Reaching up to pull his shirt over his head, he smirked. “I don't know what you're talking about. I'm never nervous.”

Sam climbed into bed with his sweatpants still on. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head.

“Ever,” he said. His voice was soft, pleading, and it tugged at a place in her heart. “Are we going to be okay?”

“One way or another, yeah. We'll both be okay, Sam.”

When he rolled onto his side to face her and brought her hand to his lips, she squeezed his hand in return and then sat up. “We've been together for as long as I can remember. It's always just been me, you, and Hunter…against the world.”

He nodded, looking up at her. “That's never going to change.”

She sighed, thinking about the past few months she'd spent without him. “Isn't it, though? I feel like the minute you left, everything changed. Taking you out of Duck Creek was like flipping a switch. You seem happy here.”

“I am happy…and you could be, too. You just need to give it a chance. Maybe you'll fall in love with it.”

She knew that wasn't going to happen. “I fell in love with
you
, Sam. Before I even knew what love
was
. We had to fight for every breath, and we made it through to the other side. Now…I don't know where we go from here.”

Sam was silent, and she could only imagine the confusion he must be feeling. She just didn't feel able to clear it up for him. Not at this moment.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” she said.

“Okay,” he yawned.

She stayed in the bathroom a long while with the door shut, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She came to Nelson Island feeling like she had a decision to make. But now that she was here, she realized there wasn't much of a decision at all.

Ever hated the beach.

The following morning, after a breakfast of bagels and coffee, Sam thought a day at the beach was a perfect idea.

The corners of Hunter's mouth tugged upward just watching her tiptoe along the sand with a cute grimace on her face. Women shouldn't be allowed to be that adorable. It just wasn't a fair fight.

Sam was trying to convince her that the beach was wonderful and amazing, just like everything else about this town. This morning, he'd announced that after spending the day at the beach, they would be going out to have a drink with his new best friends.

Hunter could almost feel the tiny pinpricks of pain all of his comments were inadvertently causing in Ever's heart. Sam would never hurt her on purpose, but Hunter couldn't fathom why he couldn't see how this was hurting her. Seeing him happy here was what was going to give her closure, but it still hurt her.

Sam was a good guy, but intuition about Ever apparently wasn't his strong point. If it had been, he'd see what he was doing and just agree to come home.

When Sam grabbed Ever's hand and towed her off down the beach to talk, she shot Hunter a look of concern that nearly had him gripping Sam's arm to remove it from Ever's waist. He didn't want her to worry. She shouldn't have to handle this on her own. But as soon as he stood, she frowned and gave him a slight shake of her head.

She didn't want him to interfere.

So he'd sunk back down on his towel and tried not to stare at them walking away.

Hunter didn't hate the beach the way Ever did, but he wouldn't choose to live here. You'd have to get in a boat to go fishing on the ocean, and boats weren't his thing. It made him uncomfortable looking out at the endless expanse of water and sky for too long—made him feel like he wasn't anchored down to anything and that he might just float away. His creek back home didn't give him that feeling, and he missed it just remembering what it felt like to wade in its waters with Ever beside him and a fishing pole in his hands.

It also felt very strange not to have a majestic view of mountaintops in the distance. He'd never trade that for anything.

He could tell from the look on Ever's face so far during the trip that she felt the exact same way, and the thought filled him up with enough pride and hope that he thought he'd be able to stand a few more days of Sam tugging her around like she still belonged solely to him.

The truth wanted to come pouring out of him every single time Sam opened his mouth, but he wouldn't do that to Ever. This was a situation she was going to get to control, and when she was ready, if she was ready, he'd help her tell Sam so they could all come out of this without permanent scars.

Only, a small, insistent voice in the back of his mind tugged on his heart.
She hasn't touched you in a week. And it was only that one time. She may not want you. She may choose him all over again.

He'd spent the previous night lying on the couch, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. His stomach was clenching and unclenching, and when he glanced at the bedroom door where Sam and Ever slept, a wave of nausea would roll over his body and he'd shudder. He hated thinking about her in there with his brother.

What had happened to him? She'd been dating his brother for years. He'd watched them together dozens of times. Now he couldn't stand the thought of Sam touching her.

He wished he could punch that tiny little voice in the face. Multiple times.

When the time came that evening to meet Sam's friends, a guy named Reed met them in the circular driveway to take them to the bar. Hunter and Ever shook Reed's hand, and Hunter immediately gave him a nickname in his head: Richie Rich. They jumped into Reed's truck and took off.

Walking toward the uniquely placed bar, sitting awkwardly atop a
pier
, Hunter glanced over at Ever's face and knew they had a problem. Her eyes were narrowed, and her mouth was drawn into a thin, stubborn line. She was either getting ready to blow up or freak out. Either was possible, because she'd been through a lot up to this point.

“That rickety old place is sitting right on the water!” she exclaimed, planting her feet in the gravel and coming to a stop.