Evolve Series Box Set (48 page)

“Soooo good! I can’t believe you’re here. Wait, where are you staying? I heard—”

“So, Whitley, you know Amber?” I hastily interrupt, compensating with the most obviously already established question I can think of for Amber’s lack of tact. I’m sure she was about to announce to the beach about the foreclosure. “They invited us to a party tonight.”

“Yeah,” Nikki slides over and runs a hand up my arm, but speaks to Whitley, “you guys should all totally come. It’s gonna be so much fun.”

“Sounds good.” Whitley gives her a smile that’s as fake as the day is long, but perhaps only I noticed.

“Oh, Whitley!” Amber gasps. “Tyler will be there! You know he always had a thing for you.”

Whitley’s eyes dart to where Nikki’s hand is still latched to my arm, then back to Amber with a friendly smile. “I’d love to see Tyler. We’ll be there. Right?”

She looks up at me now when she asks. Now usually this is where a guy screws up and just says “right” or “sure,” but I’m not most guys. Growing up with a sassy female as your best friend, you learn a lot. Therefore, I know that while Whitley and I are nothing more than friends, she’s still jealous right now.

Female jealousy is a very tricky, very volatile matter, and one that should never be taken lightly. Though this is where I’m still a little fuzzy. Is she jealous because she likes me or she just doesn’t like to be challenged by another female?  Does she feels some kind of proprietorship because I came here with her or is she insecure over whether I think Nikki is prettier? The exact origin of the jealousy will probably forever remain a mystery, maybe even to Whitley herself, but that’s not the point. Whitley’s waiting for the typical male reaction here, to reassure her I am just that; another typical guy.

Brace yourself, Whitley, I’m all over this one.

I remove Nikki’s hand from my arm and step to Whitley, ducking my head to look in her eyes. “It’s up to you, Whit. Whatever you want to do is fine by me.”

Her pinking cheeks and sweet, small grin tell me I got it right.

“K,” she nods, “we may see you there. We’ll see,” she says to Nikki cheekily. “I gotta feed my boys right now, though.” She locks my hand in hers and starts toward the house. “Come on, Sawyer!”

Add public indecency to Sawyer’s Spring Break rap sheet, because he and Sasha are laying on the beach making out like they have no audience…or modesty.  It’s a bit much, even for Sawyer.

“Sawyer, let’s go, lunch!” I bark, embarrassed for him.

He makes no move to indicate he’s heard me, and Whitley just snickers.

“Come on, just leave him,” she says.

Fine by me.

“You wanna go get something for lunch?” I ask as we walk back up to the house. “I don’t want you waiting on us the whole week.”

“It’s no bother, Evan, really. It’s nice to have somebody, or two, to take care of.”

I open the door for her. “Where’d you learn to cook?”

“My nanny, Mary. She was an amazing cook and always let me help. I had to write down all the recipes as I watched, though; she didn’t use them,” she recalls wistfully.

“So you sing, you cook,” I pull up a stool, “what else do you do?”

“I don’t know, this and that.”

“Like?” I urge her, taking a bite of the sandwich she just put in front of me.

“I like to read. I like to mess around with crafts, scrapbooks, I don’t know. Now that I say it out loud, I kinda sound like a grandma.” She hangs her head. “God, I’m boring.”

I bust out laughing, quickly reigning it in when she drops her forehead into her hand and groans. “You don’t sound like a grandma. Well, okay, maybe a lot of grandmas cook and scrapbook, but my grandma’s one of the best women I know. I’m not really that exciting either, Whitley.”

Few people ever shock me, but Whitley continually throws me for a loop. On the outside, Paris Hilton. On the inside, Martha Stewart. Which is the real her? Or can those two really cohabitate in one body?

“And I’m pretty sure my grandma never got a tattoo, while high, or played Flip Cup, or performed “Red Light Special” for a frat house.” I nudge her, now sitting beside me. “I’d say you’re safe from grandma territory.”

“I forgot all that,” she admits, perking up. “You’re right. I am cool as hell!”

“Right,” I chuckle at her, “now speaking of grandparents…I’m gonna go take a nap.” I yawn and stand, heading to my room. “What are you gonna do?”

“Maybe I’ll head back down to the beach, check on Sawyer.”

Do I offer to stay up and do something? Do I lay on the couch and ask her to—no, probably shouldn’t do that.

“Take your nap, Evan,” she laughs, her face hinting she may have guessed what I was just contemplating. “I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, ok,” I stammer. “I’ll see ya later.”

I lay awake for a while, thinking things over and making a few decisions. Whitley is a beautiful girl, a wonderful friend, talented and giving, and she deserves a guy who’s sure he wants her for her, with no inklings of doubt that his interest may be circumstantial; something more than I can give her.

Sawyer is a lot of fun, and his mojo seems to work for him, but it’s a little much for me. So, it’s time. Time for Evan to get back to being Evan. Not Laney’s Evan, not miserable Evan, not wild and crazy Evan…just Evan. I’ve got some soul searching to do, all by myself. I’m gonna do what I’ve never done before—I’m gonna date.

***

I wake up a few hours later to a quiet, empty house. Once I’ve taken a shower and gotten dressed, Whitley and Sawyer still aren’t back. I walk down to the water, their last known whereabouts, but they’re not there, either. I spot a fire down the shoreline and I can hear faint music, so I take my chances that they went ahead to the party and head that way.

It takes me a bit to find either of them amongst the bodies, loud music and shroud of night, but just when I’m about to give up and turn back, Sawyer comes out onto the deck and yells my name. I meet him up there and can smell the liquor oozing out of his pores, noticing the girl curled around him isn’t Sasha from this morning. How long had I napped exactly?

“Hey, where’s Whitley?” I ask him.

“In there somewhere.” He jerks his thumb towards the house. “Where you been?”

“Nowhere; I gotta go find Whitley,” I brush him off, kinda pissed he’s slammed and not watching Whitley better at a party full of drunken strangers.

She’s not anywhere; I search the whole fucking house to no avail. I’m starting to get worried when Nikki spots me, waving her arms from across the room, dancing her way through the crowd to get to me.

“Hey, sexy,” she growls in my ear, rubbing both hands up my chest.

“Hey.” I want to find Whitley, just make sure she’s okay. “Have you seen the blonde girl we’re staying with, Whitley?”

“Why?” She scowls.

Gotta play this right, I need information. Freaking girls.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous, she’s just a friend. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t watch over her? Hmm? Now will you help me find her?” I run a finger down her jawline and wink.

“She’s out front with Tyler,” she tells me, her smile showing she’s happy at the thought of pleasing me; not at all about willingly helping another female at a party.

“You wait right here, and I’ll go check on her and be right back, okay?”

She nods eagerly and I almost feel like I should pat her head like a puppy. I should probably tell her there’s no chance in hell I’m coming back. Surely I’m not the only man who still thinks scruples are attractive?

Whitley’s laughter fills the air before I can make her out in the dark, but I instantly breathe easier hearing that she’s okay, laughing even, and I follow the sound. She’s still in her bikini top but with short gray shorts covering the bottom, her hair down and wild. She’s sitting on a bench in the yard beside some guy dressed pretty much in the same outfit she put me in the night at Dane’s. Oh shit—what a goon I’d been in the same outfit; worse than I thought. He stands as I walk up to them, his face and stance defensive. Please. Don’t scuff your loafers or wrinkle your slacks, bro.

“Whitley, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” I say, not even acknowledging Toolbag standing there.

“Evan!” She jumps up and falls forward, but I reach out and catch her.

“Easy, easy.” I hold her up, shooting the dude a menacing look. “You get her this drunk?”

“She’s a big girl, she got herself drunk. Who the fuck are you?”

“This is Evan. He’s my new friend. In love with Laney, who doesn’t hate me anymore. She’s sporty,” Whitley rattles off drunkenly.

“What she said, sorta,” I agree. “Who are you? And why do you have her out here all alone, drunk, in the dark?” If I didn’t have to hold up Whitley right now, I’d gladly wrinkle that shirt of his.

“That’s Tyler,” Whitley supplies. “Family friend forever. He had the coolest fort in his backyard; I used to sneak over. He wants in my panties, and my dad’s wallet, which is empty, I guess. Oops!” She giggles and covers her mouth.

“I’m taking her home.” I scoop her up in my arms and make towards the house, not even caring to find Sawyer. Total bullshit he left her like this. Her arms snake around my neck and her head falls back, hanging over my arm.

“Evan?”

“What?”

“Why are you mad at me?” she asks, her head bouncing with each of my steps.

“I’m not mad at you. You just scared me. We’ll talk in the morning.” I stop, hitching her up and resetting my secure grip of her limp body.

“What if my dad’s so broke he can’t pay for school anymore? I’ll have to leave. Who will take care of you?”

“Whitley, you’re drunk. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Not every girl will leave you. I don’t want to.”

I know better than to try and carry on a conversation with someone who’s drunk, but drunken words are sober thoughts, and it seems as though she’s got some pretty big ones plaguing her that she needs to get out.

“Whitley, I’m sure it’ll be fine. You won’t have to leave school. And don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Okay?”

I look down when she doesn’t respond, seeing she’s passed out. Although difficult, I manage to get the door open and her tucked in bed, then lay a glass of water and some headache reliever I dug up in the kitchen on her nightstand.

Tomorrow, we’ll have to talk. What she did tonight was dangerous and she needn’t try to drink away her fears. She also shouldn’t be worrying about me. And I shouldn’t be thinking about how good it feels to be someone’s concern.

CHAPTER 14

Goin’ Fishin’

***Evan***

“Dude, wake up.”

I open my eyes, then squint against the sunlight, barely able to see Sawyer crouched by my bed, shaking me. “What?” The one time I’m not the first person awake and here comes this guy.

“I can’t get this chick to leave. I need your help, bro. Get up and come run interference, say we gotta go somewhere or something.”

I’m not too sleepy to grin ear to ear once I turn away from him; serves him right. I hope she’s sniffing his clothes and doodling his initials when he walks back in there. “You’re on your own, bro. You left Whitley alone, drunk, and you want help? You gotta be a friend to have a friend, Sawyer.”

“I didn’t leave Whitley drunk. I left her sober, with an old friend, who she said she trusted. I specifically asked her.”

I roll over and look at him now, standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed and wearing a scowl. He can scowl all he wants, if he left Whitley like that, we’re done. “She was blitzed when I found her, alone in the front yard, away from the crowd, with one guy.” Scowl right back at ya.

“Yeah, Tyler or something, right? Listen, I pulled that girl aside and asked her, she said he was an old family friend and she trusted him. She was sober, on the sun porch thing with a lot of people when I walked away. I swear.”

“You’re sure?” I should have known he wouldn’t just leave her like that. For all his obnoxiousness, he’s a decent guy.

“You calling me a liar, Evan?”

“Nah, man, not a liar, I just wanted to make sure.” I stand now and offer him a fist bump. “My bad.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I could have gone back and checked on her.”

“Just remember next time. Cool?”

“Cool.” He nods, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Now what is it you need help with again?” I haven’t forgotten, in the whole last five minutes, I just want him to have to squirm through telling me again.

“This girl, she won’t leave.”

There it is, the pained grimace on his face…so glad I asked again.

“Stop hooking up with randoms and you won’t have this problem.” I throw a shirt over my head and pull on some jeans; no sense risking the clinger taking a liking.

“Ah, small price to pay, my friend.” He moves to the door and looks back. “You should try it; get your heads back in the game.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna try to start dating, I think.”

“I was kidding,” he comments, turning fully to face me, “kinda. I thought maybe you and Whitley might start something up. Girl’s gah gah over you.”

“No, she’s not. We’re just friends. I can’t do that to her, you know? What if I’m imagining something that isn’t really there because of a rebound thing?”

“My hell, you are one complicated guy. We need to run to the store for some feminine products there, puss?”

“Fuck off,” I mumble, brushing past him and opening the door. I instantly smell the coffee and hear two female voices cackling away.

“Good morning!” Whitley greets us with a huge smile and bright eyes.

Another fact learned about Whit—she is obviously immune to hangovers. Lucky.

“Evan, this is Portia,” Whitley properly introduces us and I barely get out a hello or my hand outstretched before the stranger is draped around Sawyer’s arm.

Sasha, Portia…maybe he needs to start trying girls named Jane, or Mary, or something he has a chance of spelling.

“Oh, and Nikki came by to invite you parasailing. Said to meet them in an hour at the dock if you want to go. You guys want some coffee?”