I pinch my brows together, wondering what the hell she is talking about. I haven’t spoken a word to her.
“Listen, he said for his friend not to waste his time. And he said that I’m not a good person, so that’s that. And no, I don’t want you to kick his ass.”
“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath. Guilt churns my stomach. I said those words to Gray out of anger; I didn’t mean them.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s fine. Yeah, I met a guy tonight, and we have a date tomorrow.”
A date? I push away from the wall and start to pace next to the bed. This is exactly what I wanted, isn’t it? To bury the last fifteen years and move on with my life? But now that she has taken my advice, I don’t like that the tables are turned.
If she goes on this date, it could lead to kissing, sex, or worse a relationship, or worse than that, marriage. Then I’d lose her forever. And I don’t have her now, but she’s always been my Everly, even if we aren’t friends right now.
I have to sabotage that date.
I mean, it’s the only thing that could make this situation worse, and then maybe, just maybe, we can finally go our separate ways and pretend we didn’t love each other for the last fifteen years.
At least that’s what I tell myself. It isn’t because somewhere deep inside me I know that she’s mine and is supposed to be with me. Everly can’t be with anyone else.
Chapter 4 Everly
Want to know a secret?
I don’t have a date tonight. I only told Blaire that to get her off my back about needing to move on and ‘sow my wild oats’ while I’m still young and pretty. Her words, not mine. I have never felt the need to do that.
The only one I ever felt that for hates me, and it’s my fault, and that’s something I’m going to have to live with forever because I don’t ever see that changing. I flip over to my side and sigh, putting my hands under my cheek as I look at the out of place door that connects to Rowan’s room. Of course, I picked the room right next to his.
Subconsciously, I knew that when deciding where to stay. I chalked it up to not being here for so long, but my soul tugged to him, and I couldn’t ignore that. Not while being this close to him. It’s sad, knowing at one point we were as close as two people could ever get, and now I have to settle for being in the room next to him.
If it was up to me, I’d be in another country.
I roll to my back, pulling the covers up to my chin and debating whether I want to get up or not. If I stay in my room, I’m safe. I don’t have to see my previous lover and future stepbrother or have awkward ‘family’ breakfast.
Ugh, freaking put me out of my misery already. I shove a pillow over my face and scream until I have no more breath in my lungs.
“Huh, that oddly feels better,” I say to no one but myself.
This house is going to be my new home away from home now. The place I come to because my mom is here, shacking up with his dad. No, I’m sorry. She is in love and happy. I get it; the Michaels men are irresistible. I don’t blame her for falling for him. It would be hypocritical of me if I did.
Five more days. I can survive five more days, right?
“Don’t be a coward, Everly,” I mumble to myself and toss the covers off my body. I shiver as the cold air drapes over my skin like another blanket, and I run to the bathroom to turn the hot water on in the shower.
I shuck off my large Metallica t-shirt that I stole from Blaire and toss it on the floor. I don’t listen to them, but it’s so comfortable, and I’m pretty sure she stole it from a guy because it’s huge. I remember when I used to wear Rowan’s shirts or hoodies. A small grin plays at my lips from the memory. His hoodies were so soft and engulfed me, falling to my mid-thigh. And they always smelled so good.
Oh damn, did they smell good. Rowan’s choice of cologne was always expensive, and I wonder if he still wears it or has a new scent now. I hope not because it would be tragic. I remember being sixteen and lying in bed, smelling the sleeves as I fell asleep because it made him feel that much closer to me when he couldn’t stay over.
I depended on him to fall asleep. He brought safety, his arms, his body, everything about him, and when he couldn’t spend the night, he’d always leave his hoodie behind because I told him one time I couldn’t sleep without him, and it worked like a charm.
I don’t know where that hoodie is now. I know I never gave it back, so it’s somewhere in my apartment up in New York. My hand goes to my chest, and my heart starts to ache, and tears start to brim my eyes again. The last two years have been easy living with the pain because I haven’t had to see him—out of sight, out of mind. It’s true. The feelings I’ve pushed aside have slammed into me, sending me into a frenzy of emotions. And now I have to actually deal with them.
I stare at myself in the mirror and move my hair over my shoulders, covering my breasts. He always liked my long hair.
Oh, I have an idea. I throw it up in a messy bun and rinse off in the shower real quick. I toss on a tank top and jeans and spray my perfume that I’ve worn since
