Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(112)

Her laugh made me glance over at her – bad idea. All I could see was skin. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, fighting for control. What the hell was I going to do when I saw her in a bathing suit?

When we pulled into the driveway, I released the air in my lungs. I let Meg and Emma go in ahead of me, offering to get the bag of clothes from the trunk to give myself time to recover. The girls were in the living room by the time I’d changed into dry clothes.

‘Evan, do you want to watch a movie when everyone gets back?’ Meg asked.

‘Sure,’ I responded. ‘Are you guys hungry?’

‘What are you cooking?’ Emma asked excitedly.

‘Nothing,’ I answered with a chuckle. ‘Thought we’d order pizza. Or maybe you could cook.’

‘Pizza!’ Meg declared. ‘Emma will burn the house down.’

‘Hey!’ Emma shot back. ‘I’ve mastered grilled cheese.’

‘That’s a feat,’ I teased. Emma picked up a pillow and threw it at me. I easily caught it, laughing.

My mind wandered to the pillow fight Emma and I’d had years ago. I was tempted to retaliate to make it happen again.

‘So, Evan, I heard you’re a Stanford boy now,’ Meg said, redirecting my attention.

Evan turned towards Meg, taking his taunting grin with him. I had a feeling I knew what he was thinking about, clutching that pillow in his hand. ‘Yeah, I guess I am.’

Everyone else arrived right after the pizza did. And thankfully we’d ordered a lot. Jared and James practically ate an entire pizza each.

I sat on the plush rug in front of the couch after we’d finished eating, while Evan stood in front of the TV, flipping through the movie titles on the screen.

‘Come on, Meg,’ Serena called to her, plopping down on James’s lap on the love seat, hanging her long legs over the other side of the arm.

Sara giggled at something Jared whispered in her ear – which was exactly why I’d chosen the floor. Meg plopped down next to them with a huge bowl of popcorn as Evan selected the movie.

‘You can sit on the chair,’ he encouraged when he turned to find me on the rug.

‘I’m comfortable,’ I assured him, clutching a pillow to my chest. Evan hesitated, then sat down in the chair himself and clicked off the light.

The images from the television filled the room with moving light. There was another low giggle behind me, and I scooted closer to Evan’s chair, leaning against the space next to his legs.

As the movie progressed, exhaustion settled in. I dozed off with my face leaning against Evan’s leg.

When I woke, the room was dark, and I was lying on the bed. I felt Evan’s breath on my neck, and with my lips turned up ever so faintly, I settled back to sleep within his embrace.





34


Just Don’t Think About It


‘I DON’T THINK I SHOULD SLEEP IN HERE any more,’ Evan announced as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom.

I stared at him in confusion. ‘You don’t want to sleep with me any more?’

Evan let out an awkward laugh. ‘That’s the problem.’

‘What do you mean?’

Evan smoothed the covers over his lap, leaning his head back against the headboard to scan the ceiling, struggling with how to explain it to me.

‘Just tell me.’ I sat on the edge of the bed next to his feet.

‘It’s … difficult,’ he muttered. ‘We’re still figuring everything out … this thing between us. But when the only time I get to touch you is in this bed, listening to you breathe, smelling your hair, feeling your … it’s … not easy.’

‘Oh,’ I uttered, hit in the face with his meaning. My heart thrust to life at just the thought of his warm body pressed against my back. ‘Yeah, I know.’

‘So, it would probably be best if I slept upstairs from now on,’ he repeated.

‘Um, okay,’ I said hesitantly. ‘If that’s what you think.’

‘You don’t?’ he questioned in surprise. ‘Am I the only one being tortured here?’

Heat spread across my face as I shook my head.

‘It’s hard enough not to kiss you –’ Evan began.

‘Okay, I understand,’ I said in a rush, not wanting him to continue, not wanting the thought of kissing him in my head. I clenched my eyes closed – too late.

‘So, I’ll take my stuff upstairs.’ He said it as a statement, but there was this hint of questioning in his tone that made me look up at him.

‘Yup,’ I answered awkwardly. Evan grabbed his bag from the chaise and his camera from the dresser.

He hesitated at the door, gave me a tight smile, and shut it behind him.

I collapsed on the bed, relieving my lungs with the air they were deprived of during that exchange. What had just happened? We basically admitted to wanting each other, without saying we wanted each other. That was the most awkward moment … ever.

Sara entered without knocking and closed the door behind her. She sat down next to my sprawled body.

‘So, I just saw Evan walk by with his bag,’ she said. ‘Did you get in a fight or something?’

‘No.’ I sighed.

‘Then what’s going on?’