Entwined with You(102)

And now there was no choice. I was married. Ecstatically so.


Still, I found myself grateful that I’d tucked my wedding ring into the zippered pocket of my purse. If Cary felt a growing distance between us, finding out I’d gotten hitched over the weekend wouldn’t help.


My stomach twisted. The secrets between us were mounting. I couldn’t stand it.


“Eva.”


I jerked out of my thoughts at the sound of my best friend’s voice. He was striding toward me wearing loose-fitting cargo shorts and a V-neck T-shirt. He kept his shades on, and with his hands shoved in his pockets, he seemed distant and cool. Heads turned as he walked by and he didn’t notice, his attention on me.


My feet moved. I was hurrying toward him before I thought of it, then ran straight into him so hard, his breath left him with a grunt. I hugged him, my cheek pressed to his chest.


“I missed you,” I said, meaning it with all my heart, even though he wouldn’t know exactly why.


He muttered something under his breath and hugged me. “Pain in the ass sometimes, baby girl.”


Pulling back, I looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”


He linked his fingers with mine and led me out of the Crossfire. We went to the place with the great tacos that we’d gone to the last time he had met me for lunch. They also had great slushy virgin margaritas, which were perfect on a steamy summer day.


After waiting in line about ten minutes, I ordered only two tacos, since I hadn’t hit the gym in way too long. Cary ordered six. We snagged a table just as its former occupants cleared away, and Cary inhaled a taco before I’d barely taken the wrapper off my straw.


“I’m sorry about the voice mail,” I said.


“You don’t get it.” He swiped a napkin across lips that turned sane women into giggling girls when he smiled. “It’s the whole situation, Eva. You leave me a message telling me to think about sharing a place with Cross, after you tell your mom that it’s a done deal and before you fall off the face of the earth for the weekend. I guess however I feel about it means jack shit to you.”


“That’s not true!”


“Why would you want a roommate when you’re living with a boyfriend anyway?” he asked, clearly getting warmed up. “And why would you think I’d want to be a third wheel?”


“Cary—”


“I don’t need any f*cking handouts, Eva.” His emerald eyes narrowed. “I’ve got places I can crash, other people I can room with. Don’t do me any favors.”


My chest tightened. I wasn’t ready to let Cary go yet. Someday in the future, we’d be heading our separate ways, maybe only seeing each other on special occasions. But that time wasn’t now. It couldn’t be. Just thinking about it screwed with my head.


“Who says I’m doing it for you?” I shot back. “Maybe I just can’t bear the thought of not having you nearby.”


He snorted and ripped a bite out of his taco. Chewing angrily, he swallowed his food down with a long draw on his straw. “What am I, your three-year chip marking your recovery? Your celebratory token for Eva Anonymous?”


“Excuse me.” I leaned forward. “You’re mad, I get it. I’ve said I’m sorry. I love you and I love having you in my life, but I’m not going to sit here and get kicked because I f*cked up.”


I pushed away from the table and stood. “I’ll catch you later.”


“You and Cross getting married?”


Pausing, I looked down at him. “He asked. I said yes.”


Cary nodded, as if that were no surprise, and took another bite. I grabbed my purse from where it hung on the back of my chair.


“Are you afraid of living alone with him?” he asked around his chewing.


Of course he’d think that. “No. He’ll be sleeping in his own bedroom.”


“Has he been sleeping in a separate room the last few weekends you’ve been shacking up with him?”


I stared. Did he know for a fact that Gideon was the “loverman” I’d been spending time with? Or was he just fishing? I decided I didn’t care. I was tired of lying to him. “Mostly, yes.”


He set his taco down. “Finally, some truth out of you. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten how to be honest.”


“Fuck you.”


Grinning, he gestured at my vacant chair. “Sit your ass back down, baby girl. We’re not done talking.”


“You’re being a jerk.”


His smile faded and his gaze hardened. “Being lied to for weeks makes me cranky. Sit down.”


I sat and glared at him. “There? Happy?”


“Eat. I’ve got shit to say.”


Exhaling my frustration, I slung my purse over the chair again and faced him with my brows raised.


“If you think,” he began, “that being sober and working steadily broke my bullshit meter, now you know better. I knew you were nailing Cross again from the moment you started back up.”


Biting into my taco, I shot him a skeptical look.