When I Was Yours(22)

“Tomorrow,” he says, sounding way too composed.

Our faces are only millimeters apart, his eyes staring into mine.

I’m so not composed. My breaths are coming out in quick short pants. I’m a mess of emotions, and hormones.

I really want to kiss him again.

“Mmhmm.”

He chuckles softly. Then, removing his hands from me, he steps away.

My body cries out in distress for him to come back.

“I’ll pick you up at seven a.m., so we can get there early and catch some good waves.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Evie?”

“Yeah?” I’m still gazing at him—well, gazing at his mouth to be exact. He has really nice lips.

“What time am I picking you up?”

I come to a little, focusing on his eyes. Realizing that I’m behaving like a total girl, my face heats. I clear my throat, gathering my wits. “Seven.”

He smiles at me, and I feel it deep inside.

“I’ll see you then.”

I watch as he turns and leaves down the steps.

I fall back against my door, touching my fingers to my lips, the feel and taste of him still there. The kiss was short, but I feel like he’s been touching me for hours.

My legs are like jelly while my heart threatens to burst out of my ribcage.

I stay there until I hear his car pulling away, awakening me to move.

I unlock the front door and let myself in.

My dad is in the living room. He never goes to bed until I’m home, not that I’m ever usually out late. I’d text him earlier while I was waiting for Adam to come back with the pizza, to let him know I was out with a friend.

“You have a good time?”

“Yeah. I did.” I can’t contain my giddy smile.

Dad gives me a curious look, so I tell him a quick goodnight, and I head to my bedroom, looking in on Casey as I pass her room. She’s fast asleep.

I drop down onto my bed, pressing the rose to my nose again.

I feel giddy with excitement.

I place the rose on my bedside table, and then I set my alarm for six in the morning. So much for my sleep in. I’m getting up even earlier than I normally do for work.

But ask me if I care.

Not at all because I’ll be spending the day with Adam.

Oh God, am I in trouble. After having this time with him today, I’m feeling all kinds of crazy about him. So, what will I be like after a full day with him tomorrow?

I’ll be done for, that’s what I’ll be.

So, freaking done for.





Entering the water, I paddle out on my board, pushing through the waves. Paddling out farther, I need big waves.

I need to surf Evie out of my head.

I need the peace that only being out here can give me.

It’s been five days since our talk. I haven’t spoken to her since. I have caught glimpses of her on my way back in and out of the hotel as I pass by the coffee shop, but I’ve avoided going in there.

I’ve had to go to Starbucks. So, now, I’ve lost my decent f*cking coffee as well.

I’ve been staying away from her for many reasons, and it’s not just the fact that she broke my heart. Seeing her again has screwed me up so much.

I knew I wasn’t over her—I’d have to be stupid to ever think I was—but I didn’t realize how badly I’d want her again. The urge to touch her and taste her was overwhelming. Just breathing the same air as her was f*cking killing me.

Standing there, staring at her, I was eighteen all over again.

From the moment I’d seen Evie sitting up on that rock eleven years ago, I’d been obsessed.

I lusted her, then loved her, and then hated her. I’ve mentally chased her for the last ten years, never giving her up.

My obsession has always been there.

I never could get enough of Evie. And no matter what she’s done to me, whether I love her or hate her, I will always want her.

I f*cking hate that.

I hate that she’s my weakness. She controls my life, and she’s not even a part of it.

Seeing her after all that time…it felt like it should have been more explosive, bigger somehow, epic—not just me yelling at her in a hotel room.

I’d spent that whole day pretending to listen at my shitty meetings when what I was actually doing was preparing in my head what I would say to Evie when I saw her, while also watching the clock like a f*cking hawk.

Then, when the moment came, it didn’t go how I’d expected it to, and really, I still don’t have any answers.

I expected closure, needed it, but all I’ve got is a truckload of more f*cking questions and the incessant urge to f*ck her.

No matter what was happening between Evie and me, I always wanted her—even when she was pissing me off, which was not that often.

But wanting her now, after what she did to me…I’m not really sure what that says about me. Probably that I’m f*cked up.

The woman shreds my heart and screws up my life, and all I can think about is getting her naked and f*cking her.

That’s one of the reasons I’m avoiding her—because f*cking Evie is the last thing I should do.

Also, I have something to tell her.

In my hypocrisy, I was fighting her for answers when I had a pretty big thing to tell her myself.