Ruth nodded without protest. “Please,” she said.
Now he was really worried.
18
Evan had insisted that Ruth come back to his flat. She still hadn’t eaten, and he wasn’t happy about it.
Usually, Ruth wouldn’t be either—but that evening’s standoff had stolen her appetite. Still, they sat at his narrow kitchen table, and she ate a sandwich, and he watched as if he’d never seen mastication before.
Finally, forcing down a leaden bite of bread and ham, she asked, “What?”
He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table-top. “You going to tell me what that was about?”
Ruth shrugged. “Figure it out.”
“You know, I’d love to. I’d love to figure you out. But I need all the pieces before I can assemble the puzzle.”
She took another bite of her sandwich.
After a moment, he sighed. “Okay. Keep your secrets.”
And, just like that, she felt guilty. It took a few bites of sandwich for the guilt to really get to her, but it was there.
You need to decide if you want him to know you. Don’t do things halfway.
Throwing the crust down on her plate, she said, “Me and Hayley and Maria were friends.”
He looked up, barely hiding his surprise. “Friends?”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t really funny, but she still found herself smirking. “I did have friends, you know. Before.”
“Before what?” he asked immediately.
She shrugged. Deciding to trust him was one thing. Parading her biggest mistakes before a man she really fucking liked was something else entirely.
And shit, she hadn’t meant to admit—even to herself—how much she liked Evan. But it was far too late now. Because, all of a sudden, she was thinking about how she would tell him.
Eventually.
“Why would your friends treat you like that?” he scowled. “I mean, that Hayley girl—even if you aren’t friends anymore—”
“I’d do the same,” Ruth said, “if I was her. She’s loyal.”
“To who?”
She looked at him blankly.
“Alright, Miss Mystery.” He smiled at her, really smiled. “I won’t squeeze everything out of you tonight.”
Maybe I wish you would.
Ruth buried her face in her hands and sighed. She was starting to piss herself off.
When she felt the gentle pressure of Evan’s hand against the back of her neck, she bit her lip. It was either that or make a highly embarrassing noise.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. His fingers kneaded tense muscles, strong and skillful.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sick of everything being so dramatic. I was trying to make you feel better, and it just…” She didn’t even know how to finish that sentence.
Gently, he tugged her hands away from her face. She blinked at the sudden light, then stared at him. His eyes were serious, his fingers still wrapped around each of her wrists. She felt as if she was burning. And enjoying it.
“You did make me feel better,” he said firmly. “I very much enjoyed your microwaved soup.”
Despite her determination to be dour, she giggled. Then cursed him for it.
He continued, his voice softening. “Just talking to you made me feel better. Also, seeing you in leggings.”
Now she didn’t know if she should laugh or gasp. She compromised by choking on her own spit.
Evan waited patiently for her eyes to stop watering before he handed her a glass of water.
After a few calming sips, she forced herself to say, “I should go.”
He watched her impassively, leaning back in his seat. “Should you?”
For a moment, she wavered. But then she remembered the way Hayley had looked at her. The pity in Maria’s eyes.
In Year Eight, Ruth had provided Maria with illicit tampons, because her Irish Catholic mother insisted they were sinful. Tonight, Maria had looked at Ruth and fingered the pearl-studded cross around her neck.
It hurt.
“You should know,” Evan said slowly, “that I care about you. I didn’t say that before, but it’s important, and I should have.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I asked you to trust me, but I should trust you too. I should trust you to figure out your own boundaries and… you know, all that shit.”
Ruth huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. All that shit. But I probably should’ve told you before now that I’m public enemy number one. And I shouldn’t have suggested that walk.”
Across the table, Evan cracked a smile. “Because I’m so terrified of the town’s avenging angels?”
She snorted. “Keep laughing. They’ll eat you alive.”
He reached out and caught her hand, placing it palm-up on the table. Casually, his fingers traced the veins in her wrist. “I assume everyone hates you because you’re a man-eating succubus.”
She tried to suppress a shiver at the languid touch of his fingers and