her clit, the pressure delicious even through her clothes. “Tell me.”
Ah.
Just like that, the blazing purity of pleasure drained away. The reality of who Ruth was—how Ruth was—crushed her the way pianos crush cartoon characters: she was still breathing, somehow, but she shouldn’t have been.
Ruth absolutely could not tell him anything. Anything at all.
Swallowing down her sudden panic, she said, “We should stop.”
In a breath, he went from surrounding her to disappearing. She felt suddenly cold, suddenly alone, without his arms around her.
But that, she reminded herself, was the safest way to feel.
“Are you okay?” Evan asked softly.
Hesitant, she turned to face him. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes heavy-lidded, his lips parted. Beautiful. Still, she saw apology written over his face. He folded his hands in front of his waist, and she wondered if he meant to hide the bulge straining against his jeans or draw attention to it.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You don’t seem fine.”
Ruth didn’t know what to say to that.
After a pause, he said, “I’m… I’m sorry, Ruth.”
“You don’t need to be sorry—”
“But I am. I shouldn’t have done that.” He cleared his throat. His posture was perfect as ever, almost painfully stiff.
Almost, her mind thought feverishly, as stiff as his—
“I didn’t come over here to… to harass you,” he said. “I just wanted to see you. I hope you believe that.”
She licked her lips and nodded. She had no idea what, exactly, was happening here, but it seemed polite to let him finish.
“I very much enjoy spending time with you,” he said. “I hope you might consider me a friend.”
“I do.”
That, at least, drew the ghost of a smile from his lips. “Good,” he said, almost to himself. “Good. I… I’d understand if you didn’t want me to come over anymore.”
“But I do,” she said firmly. “I do want you to come over.”
She should be grateful, really. He was saying all the things that should be coming out of her mouth, as if following a script. So why was she arguing?
His gaze was intense. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she practically cried. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” He gave her a short nod. “Well… I’ll be going, then.”
“Alright.”
“Alright.”
For a second, they stared at each other across the kitchen. She could still feel the rasp of his fingertips against her belly, could still feel the pressure of his palm against her clit. She tried to make herself forget—she was good at forgetting—but found that she could not.
When he finally walked out of the kitchen, she sagged against the counter in relief.
And when he came over the next day, and the next, she told herself that talking and joking and never, ever touching was absolutely fine.
10
“Evan! You going out?”
Yes. To avoid you.
Evan pulled his face into something that wasn’t quite a smile, but at least didn’t feel like a scowl. Then he turned to Daniel Burne and said, “Yep.”
“I’ll join you.” Daniel fell into step with Evan as they pushed out of the forge’s double doors. “Need to pick up some fags.”
Great. So they’d head to the newsagents together and make stiff, forced conversation that made Evan want to stab himself in the gut.
Usually, he liked to talk. Just not with Daniel Burne.
“So,” Daniel began.
That short, sharp word was all it took to set Evan on his guard. He shot a glance over at Daniel and found the other man a picture of calm, looking straight ahead, nodding politely to passers-by.
“So,” Evan echoed.
“You meet your neighbour?”
Evan clenched his jaw. He remembered the way Ruth had felt against him three days ago and said, “Yeah. I met my neighbour.”
Daniel was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Nice guy?”
Evan sighed. “Do you think you’re being subtle?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You want to know if Ruth is my neighbour. Just ask.”
Daniel gave a rueful smile. “I suppose that right there is my answer.”
“I suppose it is.”
There was a brief, blessed pause. During that pause, Evan allowed himself to hope that the conversation would now be over.
He was, of course, disappointed.
“I hope you didn’t judge me too harshly, the other day,” Daniel said. “It’s just, I’ve known her a long time, and we… we don’t get along.”
Evan failed to see how anyone could not get along with Ruth. Yes; she was prickly and awkward and blunt to a fault. She was also adorably excitable, unapologetically passionate, and secretly, achingly, shy. But then, a man like Daniel would respond poorly to a woman like Ruth. He seemed to expect instant adoration, and Ruth wasn’t capable of that.