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“You were in danger. The same kind as me.”

Evelyn turned her gaze to her heels. “Except I wasn’t. I drove you to the airport and saw the bruises on your neck. When it looked like you wouldn’t take me with you, I…improvised.”

I stared, understanding starting to creep over me like cold fingers. “You’re fucking kidding.”

“Two days before, I’d banged my thigh on my brother’s stupid air hockey table in the rec room and had a pretty good bruise. At the time, it felt like serendipity. The universe stamping my ticket out of town.” She smiled wanly. “And it worked.”

I gaped, slack-jawed. “What are you saying? That you saw where Chet fucking choked me and you said…?”

“That the same thing happened to me.” She plucked a tissue from the Fendi bag and dabbed her eyes carefully. “Yes. I did.”

“Evelyn, that’s…despicable.”

“I know it is. I’m not proud of myself, but I did what I had to do. Santa Cruz is too small and sleepy. I had to get out.”

“So you lied about your dad—”

“I never said it was my dad,” she said fiercely. “I would never… He would never.”

“But you put it out there for me to believe.”

“And now I’m taking it back. I have to take it back. I’m sorry, Miller.” She squared her shoulders. “It was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t need to do that. Your vlog would have taken you wherever you wanted to be.”

“Maybe. But I wanted to be with you.”

I sagged against the desk, ran a hand through my hair as two years fell between us. Two years of her enduring my bullshit and moods and medical issues for something that would never happen. “I knew. I knew and I didn’t want to know. I’m sorry, Ev.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Miller. I always knew what I was doing. You can ask Violet what I meant by that.” She heaved a breath, then stuck out her hand, and I took it. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Thank you, Ev. I’m going to miss you.”

Surprise danced over her expression and then she regained her composure. “Of course, you will. Most days, Tina can barely remember her own name.”

She pulled away quickly and went to the door. She opened it, turned, her expression unguarded and soft. “Tell Violet the best woman won.”

Then she left.

Our plane touched down in Seattle late that afternoon. I introduced Violet to the guys in the band. She was an instant icebreaker, warming over the cold front I’d presented to them for so long. By the end of soundcheck, we felt more cohesive as a band then we had the entire tour, and I cursed myself for being such a dick. For holding myself back from giving a shit about anyone.

Holding myself back, I realized, had caused more problems for me than it had ever solved. My dad floated in on the tail of that thought, but I batted him away.

That’s different. He wrecked us. He held himself back from us.

Even so, I pulled my new assistant aside. “Has my father called?”

Fear instantly washed over Tina’s face. “I thought you said to tell him you’re never available.”

“I did,” I said, irritated. “I was just…wondering.”

“How come he doesn’t have your cell number?”

I scrubbed my hands over my face, missing Evelyn already. “Never mind. If he calls again…”

“Yeah?”

I hung on the precipice of two possibilities. The way it’d been for seven years and some unknown future where I didn’t hold myself back.


Tags: Emma Scott Lost Boys Romance