I try to conceal my surprise as I say, “Oh really?” but I must do a lousy job.
Derrick laughs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I know. Not my usual, but it’s been good so far. I always thought I was protecting you by being a hard-ass, bossy big brother, but… I was really trying to protect myself from losing another person I cared about. Guess Mom leaving and Dad being Dad fucked me up more than I wanted to admit.”
“It’s okay. Sometimes it takes time and distance to realize how our family of origin shaped us.”
He sighs. “It didn’t for you. You’ve been deep into the therapy stuff since the day you left that house.”
I shrug. “Well, I was gifted with exceptional emotional intelligence, so…”
He grins, proving a joke was the right choice. He’s in the early stages of his journey of self-discovery. There will be time for more in-depth discussion about everything he’s working through later.
And I guess I need to do some more work, too, I realize after Derrick heads back to his office and I’m left alone to tidy up the art room for the last time.
I know my relationship with my dad isn’t healthy. I’ve known that for a long time. Until very recently, my relationship with Derrick wasn’t super healthy, either. But the thought of leaving both Dad and Derrick in my past was too much of a blow.
Human beings are wired for connection, for family, for tribe. And yes, I have three amazing friends I can count on, but no matter how much I love them, Harlow will never be a father figure and Cameron is my buddy, not my brother. So even though cutting ties with people who’ve treated me like an inconvenience (Dad) or a problem to be managed (Derrick) might have been the emotionally healthy thing to do, I’ve never let myself seriously consider that option. I’ve always assumed I would establish a healthier, grown-up relationship with both of them. Someday.
Meanwhile, the years ticked by, and nothing changed until now.
Why is that?
Is it because I finally laid down the law with Derrick last week?
Because I stood my ground with the team and insisted on their participation?
Because I stepped way outside my comfort zone by propositioning a man who, if I’m honest with myself, is completely out of my league?
Or is it all—or maybe none—of the above?
Maybe Derrick would have come to this place no matter what, but I can’t help but feel like I’m in the middle of something big, a major transition I couldn’t stop now if I tried.
No, that’s not true. I could stop it. But I don’t want to. I have to find out what this brave, bolder me is going to do next. I need to see what she draws, learn how she connects with her new clients at the teen center, and discover what it feels like to fall asleep in Ian’s arms, even if it’s just for one night.
Even if it breaks my heart.
With that in mind, I pull my cell from my bag and shoot Ian a text.
Chapter 24
Ian
The text from Evie comes through just as I’m finishing up at the car rental in Midtown.
Want me to bring your packet with me? We could work on collages together later tonight. I’m no expert, obviously, but I don’t think people can have sex for twelve hours straight. But please correct me if I’m wrong, and I will pack cold compresses for my nether regions.
My lips twitch.
It isn’t a smile, but for the first time since I left the stadium, I can stretch my neck to one side without my jaw cracking. It’s a start. And it’s because of Evie. In just a few days, she’s become one of my favorite people.
I guess she always has been, but now she’s more than a surrogate little sister. She’s my friend, part of my support system, and increasingly the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning.
And I’m going to betray her.
Tonight.
We only agreed to two weeks of “friends with benefits,” and I won’t be skipping town much earlier. But if I’m honest with myself, I haven’t been thinking short term about this thing with Evie, not since our hangman session. Being with her is so easy, so natural, so right in a way being with Whitney never was, not even when we were in the golden days of our relationship.
Evie just gets me. And I get her. She likes me for who I am, not how many goals I score or how much money I make, and I feel the same way about her. She could become a world-famous artist or spend the rest of her life sketching things people refuse to hang in their guest bathroom and what I feel for her wouldn’t change. I would still respect her integrity, her creativity, and her innate goodness.