Evers & Afters (Dare With Me #2) - J.H. Croix Page 0,17

eyes landed on my ex with his wife, the one I didn’t know about. Hell, I hadn’t even known his real name until after the whole mess blew up in my face.

Shock slammed into me and my feet got stuck in place. Unfortunately for me, another family was pushing past me on their way in and knocked me slightly off balance because I wasn’t paying attention. My ex—who I had known as Brad—looked away to say something to his wife. His real name was Joel. His wife, Fran, stared at me, and her eyes felt like poison darts pinned on me. I felt absolutely awful, shame making my stomach roil.

I started moving again, but not fast enough. She closed the distance between us when there was a gap in the cluster of people waiting and stopped beside me, her eyes narrow and angry.

Joel, who I had a hard time not thinking of as Brad, crossed over, curling his hand around her arm. “Fran, leave it alone.”

As if the universe had set out to make this situation as mortifying as possible, Elias, Diego, and Flynn appeared and paused at my side. The tension was obvious, at least to me. I didn’t even know what Joel was doing here because he didn’t live here.

“Everything okay?” Diego asked in an easy, friendly tone.

When I looked up at him, I couldn’t even speak. As Joel dragged Fran away, she replied to Diego, “No, everything is not okay.”

I wanted to melt into nothing. I swallowed through the tight knot of tears and shame in my throat and squeezing the life out of my lungs. “It’s fine,” I said, practically running out of the entrance area.

The cool evening air coasted over me as I stepped outside, easing the hot shame pressing against my skin. When I reached my SUV, I started to get in, but then noticed it seemed to be listing slightly to one side. Glancing back, I saw one of my tires was flat.

“Fuck,” I muttered to myself. I needed a minute, so I climbed in my SUV and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. “Dammit.” I bounced my forehead lightly on the padded edge of the steering wheel, feeling one tear, another, and then another roll in rapid succession down my cheeks.

I was over Joel, but I wasn’t over my stupidity. I had an affair, and I didn’t even know it was an affair. How stupid was that? Really, really stupid. I was devastated and so ashamed. To make this specific moment more aggravating, I had a flat tire.

There was a light knock on my window. I slowly opened my eyes, fearing it was Joel, or potentially worse, Fran. Actually, Fran would’ve been a better option. Because I could apologize again.

When I finally opened them, I found Elias peering at me through the window. I dragged my palms across my cheeks and reached for a tissue in the glove box, wishing he would maybe go away.

“Are you okay?” he called through the window, his voice slightly muffled.

No, I was definitely not okay, not even a little. But I didn’t think Elias was going to leave. After a few breaths, I opened the door. “One of my tires is flat.”

Elias’s eyes searched my face quietly, and I wanted to squirm. I didn’t need my crush witnessing me feeling so low.

“I noticed. That’s why I came over to check,” he finally said. “I’m parked right there.” He gestured toward his truck, a navy-blue light duty truck. It suited him perfectly—practical and understated. “Do you have a spare tire?”

That was the logical question. It took me a minute to drag myself out of the mental rut I’d tumbled into after that shitty encounter on the way out.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice coming out kind of raspy.

He stepped away as I moved to get out. I went around and opened the back, turning the little plastic latch and lifting up the section inside where my spare tire was stored. Except there was nothing there. I leaned my head back, staring into the sky. The beauty should’ve caught my notice. The sun was setting, and early spring sunsets in Alaska were glorious, the sky splashed with color. My brain barely registered it.

“No,” I said as I brought my gaze level with Elias’s. “I suppose I don’t have a tire.”

We looked together into that empty spot, shaped perfectly for a tire, except there was no tire there. Elias’s eyes slid to mine. “Did you get this used? Or