Seven Days in June(92)

She breathed in a dramatic gasp and then cringed, pressing a knuckle into her temple. He saw a flurry of emotions mar her expression, and then…nothing. An ice-cold, terrifying calm settled over her face.

Shane forgot everything he’d planned to say.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hey,” he rasped, and didn’t recognize his voice. He hadn’t spoken in hours. Clearing his throat, he walked in her direction. She crossed her arms over her chest, and, message received, he stopped in his tracks just a few feet away from her.

God, Eva was breathtaking, even in her remoteness. Shane’s chest clenched.

“I’m sorry,” he managed.

“Don’t apologize.”

“I can explain.”

“So can I,” she said crisply, and closed the space between them so they were a few feet apart. “I’m sure you have a good reason for standing us up. Maybe you forgot. Maybe it was too much, too fast. And fair enough. But you didn’t just stand me up; you stood up my daughter. You don’t promise things to kids and then disappear.”

For reasons Eva couldn’t know, this seemed to hit him like a punch to the jaw.

“Believe me,” said Shane. “I know.”

“It was just a silly brunch, but I thought…” Eva stopped, swallowed, and started over. “I know it’s only been a week, but it felt…”

“Bigger,” he said, his voice breaking on the word.

Just then, a group of women swept through the doors, on their way to the ladies’ lounge, and the ballroom noise roared into the lobby. The women rushed by, ignoring them.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for letting you two down. Audre…She’s incredible. You’re both more than I thought I’d ever get, and I…I’ve never been held accountable to anyone before. This is new. I don’t know how to do it yet.”

Eva moved closer to him, searching his face. He couldn’t meet her eyes, but he imagined what she must be seeing. His eyes rimmed dark, his two-day stubble, his features etched in grief.

“Look at me,” she said.

When Shane’s eyes met Eva’s, his heart flared and burst, flickering out like a spent light bulb—and he wondered why the sweetest things in his life had to be poisoned with tragedy.

“What happened to you?”

Scratching the side of his jaw, he thrust his hands into his pockets.

The women passed back through the doors to the ballroom. Eva and Shane heard Jenifer Lewis order everyone to their seats, to get ready for the next category.

They didn’t move.

“Tell me what happened,” she whispered.

“One of my students was shot.” Say his name. “Ty. And he…he didn’t have anyone. He was all alone in a hospital, and he was hurt, with no parents who cared. Just like us. Remember?”

Eyes widening, Eva nodded.

“He’d been trying to call me. But I was too busy—I was happy, so I ignored him. I was so fucking happy.” Shane shook his head. “He died today. He’s gone. Thirteen years old. Thirteen. I promised him I’d be there, and I wasn’t.”

“Shane.”

“I guess that’s what I do to people. I don’t deserve a family. I can’t…”

His words were cut off, because Eva gathered him into her arms—and her grip was so tight, she almost knocked the wind out of him. “Stop. You deserve a family. It wasn’t your fault.”

Shane was almost too numb to react. But then, after a few moments, he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. And finally his muscles released. He slumped against her, face nestled in the crook of her neck, giving in to the grief.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she repeated, pressing her lips against his temple.

Shane nodded, but it felt like nonsense—just the words people have to say when someone’s hurting. He squeezed her tighter anyway, grasping the leather of her dress in his fists.

At some point, from inside the ballroom, they heard Jenifer Lewis’s muffled voice announce Eva’s category.

“Back to your seats, cullids! Time for the Best Erotic Romance award! Where my sex writers at? Chiiiile, good thing I don’t write what goes on in my dirty-ass mind, y’all’d be filing for unemployment. I see you, Bonnie. You know I’m dirtier than you!”

“That’s you,” Shane said.

“I know.”

Neither moved, still holding on to each other. From far away, they heard Jenifer’s booming voice over the mic, ordering the Littie president to hand her the envelope. She began reading off the nominees.

“It’s not your fault,” Eva repeated, louder this time.

Shane wondered if perhaps she was right. Maybe it was true, and none of this was his fault. And maybe there were people out there who could really let themselves off the hook. Maybe he could have been that person if he hadn’t caused his foster mom’s death or disappeared on Eva, or if he’d been there for Ty when he needed him. Until he learned how to absolve himself, forgive himself, he had no business escaping into a relationship with Eva. He’d just bring those demons with him.

And then, for the first time ever, Shane ignored what he desperately wanted and made his first truly responsible decision.

“I can’t do this,” he said. “Us.”