The Life That Mattered (Life #1)(32)

Traveling. Skiing. Caring for the injured.

Those were the things that occupied my time, motivated me, and fulfilled my needs. Love at first sight, destiny, or any fictional shit like that kept a safe distance from my existence. Then one day … Evelyn literally walked into my life, took a seat, and gave me this grin that I felt. Yes … I felt her grin. And while I had a gift—a curse really—for feeling things, a grin was not my usual superhuman sensation. I knew … I just knew I was in trouble—all from a grin.

“What can I do to help you?” I stood at the threshold to the bathroom, leaning my shoulder against it, with my hands tucked into the front pockets of my jeans.

Evelyn cleaned the mirror. “Don’t be silly. You have your own place. I don’t expect you to help me clean mine.”

“Your mom is having surgery in a week.”

Evelyn stopped her motions. Surely, she assumed Lila told me.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m good.” She continued wiping the mirror.

“What can I do for you?”

“Nothing. I’m good.” Her words came out thick with emotion.

I pressed myself to the back of her, sliding one hand around her waist while my other hand grabbed her wrist to stop her from cleaning the mirror. I brought that hand to her chest, hugging her. “What can I do for you?”

Her teary-eyed gaze looked up at me in the mirror, bottom lip quivering. “Hold me,” her words broke as the tears made their way down her face.

I turned her toward me, wrapping her in my arms. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. Yet, the one thing that tore her apart was beyond my control.

Nothing in a medical kit could fix it. No amount of education would find a solution. Why was it when the important people in our lives needed us the most, that was when our love felt the most empty—most helpless?

I gave her my arms. They couldn’t fix anything, but maybe they’d hold her together. I was certain they were made to do exactly that. She didn’t want me to say the words, but I thought them. They screamed in my head and thumped in my chest; they whispered from my lungs with every breath.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

She sobbed.

I stroked her hair.

I held her up when her legs gave out.

I carried her to the sofa and let her cling to me while she worked out a bit of reality. There was so much I knew about reality and life. From a very young age, I learned about breaths, fragility, and beating impossible odds.

When her tears ran dry, she eased her grip on my shirt and glanced up at me. “Thank you.”

I returned a sad smile.

“You didn’t tell me it’s going to be okay.” She sniffled, wiping her cheeks.

“I don’t know that it is going to be okay.”

“It has to be.”

I stared at her a few seconds, contemplating my next words. When I couldn’t find the right ones, I kissed her forehead.

“I should finish cleaning.” She tried to climb off my lap, but I pulled her back to me, wrapping my arms around her waist, her back to my chest.

Resting my chin on her shoulder, I slanted my head to kiss her neck. “Earlier, in bed …”

“Don’t say it.” She leaned her head into mine.

“I’m not.” I chuckled. “But would it really be so bad?”

“Save it for a rainy day.”

“A rainy day?”

“Yes. When there’s nothing to say because it’s all been said a million times before … but you have to say something.”

“Then let’s go get coffee.”

She turned toward me. “We have coffee here.”

“True. But I like going to Grinds with you, sitting across from you at one of those tiny round tables, staring at each other through the steam of our coffees. I like the shy but flirty smile you give me. It reminds me of the day we met in Vancouver. It’s when I know we’re thinking those words we don’t actually say.”

The corners of her mouth turned up a fraction. Yeah, she fucking loved me too, and she knew. She knew it a long time ago.

I continued, “I like the soft jazz music, background chatter, and the whoosh of steam as they froth the milk. It all feels like this perfect Evelyn bubble. When I reach across the table and touch your hand, your cheeks turn pink and it does all kinds of insane things to me. But I can’t act on impulse when we’re there, so it’s this beautiful, torturous foreplay.”

Evelyn grinned, nodding slowly. “I love going for coffee with you too. I get to stare at you and pinch myself because I can’t believe you found your way to me … to my life. And I can’t believe you just said all of that like you were reading my mind. That day in Vancouver, it felt like so much more than a stop along my way. It felt like I had arrived.” She glanced over her shoulder.

I nipped at her lower lip. “That’s the thing about you, Evie … I had no idea I was waiting for someone until you arrived.”

“Ronin Alexander, are you a romantic? A chance meeting? A look? A feeling?” She turned her body, straddling my lap and interlacing her fingers behind my neck.

My lips twisted. “Hmm … I’m not sure yet.”

She kissed the corner of my mouth and whispered, “You are such a romantic.”