Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) (16 page)

When I’d finally gotten a hold of her on Tuesday night, something seemed…off.

I tried to figure it out, but when nothing came to mind I gave up and asked her. “Evan, what’s going on?”

A pause.

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems off.
You
seem off. Is everything okay?” I asked.

A longer pause.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. You know how I get working these long shifts. I’m just off my game,” she explained.

I would’ve believed her too, but there was a tremor in her voice. Almost like she was fighting back tears.

Evan didn’t cry, like
ever
.

The few times over the years I’d seen her do it could be counted on one hand, and it wasn’t even a full one.

“Honey, I might believe that if I didn’t actually know you,” I said gently.

A small sniffle has my heart clenching.

“Anna, I’m good. Don’t worry about it. If anything happens I’ll talk to you,” she hedged, avoiding to promise.

Evan was not a girl who made, or took, promises lightly.

“Are you and Manny still seeing each other?”

If I thought things were moving fast with Jake, it was like warp speed for those two.

They got drinks on Saturday then went back to his place where she stayed over; they hung out all day Sunday where she made lunch that turned into take out (she was hit or miss in the kitchen, mostly hit, but her misses were big ones) before she’d gone home. She had some real feelings for the guy, which was surprising.

Not that she
had
feelings or feelings for
him
, but that she wanted
more
than just a few dates.

Evan was mainly about having fun and that usually carried into her dating life. She didn’t want to be tied down yet—she was still young and she wanted to enjoy that to the fullest. But she
never
moved that fast with a guy. Manny was the first guy I’d really seen her show any interest in for more than just casual.

I thought it was great, but judging by the silence on her end that didn’t seem to be the case.

“I haven’t heard from him since Monday,” she muttered.

I blinked.

“What?”

There was some banging around on her end, a couple sniffles and a groan of frustration.

“Yeah. I was supposed to meet him at his place so we could grab breakfast, but he called me and told me something had come up and he couldn’t make it. I would’ve been fine with that. I mean, I would’ve been annoyed he canceled last minute and then a little bummed, but I would’ve been
fine
. Then I heard a woman’s voice before he pulled the phone away, I’m assuming since everything sounded garbled after. It sounded like they were arguing before he came back, told me he’d call me later, that we’d talk then, and that was it. Just hung up on me and it’s been radio silence since,” she grumbled.

“Ev, that could be anything. His mom, a sister, a cousin,
something
,” I tried, but I had a bad feeling.

Jake had been radio silence since Sunday night and I was betting those two things had something to do with each other. I didn’t say anything to Evan, though, because I didn’t want to make things worse and I wasn’t sure what any of it meant.

“Yeah, sure,” she muttered sarcastically.

“Evan, you like him. Give him some time.”

There was a noncommittal mumble on her end and then she changed the subject.

I let her have it.

It was something new for her and I didn’t want to push things…yet.

She’d talk to me when she wanted to, but until then I wasn’t going to be the idiot poking the sleeping bear. While sometimes I didn’t mind it, even went out of my way to do it, this was a time I’d just let the bear sleep and wake on its own.

After we hung up, I’d been left feeling a little melancholy. Especially since I hadn’t seen or heard from Jake since Sunday. There was some relief but, mostly, I felt bummed. He was intense, a little intimidating, and totally threw me off my axis, but I liked being around him.

Though, a small part of that had to do with the fact I just liked looking at him (I mean, hello?).

Deciding my thoughts had been about to lead me down a path that was accompanied by a full bottle of wine, I thought it best to give up the ghost and hit the sack.

Showing up the next day with a wine hangover, of all things, would not make learning new things easy.

I’d shut down all my lights, made sure everything was locked, took my makeup off, and changed into my tank top and pajama pant combo before whistling for Juliet and slipping into bed.

Flipping through my DVR, I settled on an action flick (hello, Sylvester Stallone and Jason Statham) to keep my mind off all things romantic.

Thirty minutes in, I was out and my dreams were filled with hot men, explosions, and me as a kick ass gunslinger.

*              *              *

That morning had been filled with much of the same as the days before.

Mom was a patient teacher, thankfully, and by the time she’d decided enough was enough, I had it down. She’d walked me out (more like shoved me out), locked up, gave me a kiss on the cheek and was off, mumbling to herself.

Shivering a little while walking to my car, I figured since the weather was the way it was it’d be good to call Evan and get her over since her mom would be back in the shop working.

I needed to find out what was going on with her and the best way to do that was to ply her with liquor and sweets.

I slipped in and shut the door to my car, immediately starting it so I could get the heater going before rummaging through my purse to find my phone. Once I’d gotten hold of it, I waited for the little fingerprint scanner to recognize my thumb before going to my favorites and hitting her number.

Buckling up, I threw the car in reverse and backed out of my spot, listening to the phone ring.

And ring.

And ring.

It finally clicked over to voicemail.

“You know who it is. If you don’t, hang up and please don’t try again, thanks,” she teased in her message

A smile hit my face the same time I shook my head.

She also loved having one of those messages in high school where she acted like she was talking back when it was her voicemail. She cackled every time she called me back after listening to one of my irate messages.

Hearing the beep, I started talking, “Hey, Ev. Mom’s done with me today and I figured since it was cold you’d be free to come over. I just made some of those white chocolate chip cookies that never make it into the oven with you around. Give me a call back and let me know. Love ya. Bye.”

I clicked off, dropped my phone on my bag, and finished the drive from the office to home, unable to shake the feeling that Evan had purposely ignored my call.

Juliet came racing to the door the second my key hit the lock, tail wagging a mile a minute, such was her excitement at seeing her mommy.

Dropping into a squat, I gave her scratches all over her head and body while I talked to her.

“Who’s my good girl? You miss me? I missed you, yes I did,” I cooed.

She gave me a wet kiss to my cheek.

I started laughing and stood up, heading into the kitchen to dump my shit.

After checking the time and getting an idea for how I felt about cooking, I decided to just warm up some pasta from the other night and finish the bottle of wine I’d opened yesterday (then probably open another one) while I watched some movies.

Unfortunately, I had a penchant for romance movies—comedy, drama, or independent, I dug ‘em all—so my selections were limited, at least in genre.

I figured I’d go with something feel good; something I’d seen a million and one times.

Leap Year
it was.

I mean, the instalove of it all was just so…satisfying. And who doesn’t love a cute, quirky woman and a hot guy with an accent? Plus, it was
just
above the mushy level that would make me cry.

No one likes a crying woman. Especially one that’s downed a half a bottle of wine.

I’m watching the part where they’re working together to make dinner, doing it well, having fun, and then the dinner scene where they share their first kiss (a beautiful moment where they realize something's there, but have no clue what to do about it. He’s been burned, she’s going to propose to her boyfriend, but there’s something
there
.) and I start to think about the dog park.

Mainly what I would’ve felt if Jake had been able to make the move all the way to my lips.

Bringing my glass of wine to my lips in an attempt to distract myself, I’m jerked out of my daydream by my phone blasting from the kitchen. I look at it from over the back of the couch, giving it a little glare for having the audacity to interrupt, before shifting my weight to get up.

By the time I make it there, it’s stopped but I still pick it up to see who called. It’s a number I don’t recognize and I’m just about to shrug it off when my phone starts back up. I hit the green button, bring the phone up to my ear and my glass back up to my lips to take a sip.

“Hello?”

“Anna?”

I freeze.

Shit, it’s
him
.

Even if I’ve never heard it over the phone, I know it’s him. There’s no way I could mistake his voice. It has that same deep tone, and while I prefer the sound of it in person so I could watch while he spoke, hearing it over the phone is no hardship.

“You there?”

I come unstuck at his question.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here,” I say, moving back to the couch to sit down.

I'm not sure my legs will keep me up.

“It’s Jake,” he informs me, unnecessarily.

“I know,” I blurt, giving away the fact that I could tell by his voice.

Which told him that I’d paid enough attention (or was creepy enough) to recognize the sound.

“Yeah?”

I swear there’s a smile in his voice.

“Um, yeah. Evan mentioned giving you my number. Since I don’t go around handing out cards with my number on them to strangers, I figured it was you,” I say hastily.

I nod to myself, mentally patting myself on the back.

Yeah, that sounds good. No way I’m a creepy person who memorized the sound of his voice.

Nope.

“Good to know.”

There’s definitely a smile this time.

“So, what’s up?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation away.

“Meant to call you sooner, but the shit from Sunday took time and attention. No excuse, though.”

Leaning back against the arm of the couch with my legs stretched out in front of me I ask, “Is everything okay with that?” unable to hide the hint of concern coming through in my voice.

“It will be,” he says, and this time he actually sounds like he believes it.

That’s a relief.

“That’s good.”

“It is,” he agrees. “So, you wanna go out this Friday?”

I freeze,
again
.

At this rate I’m never going to finish my wine.

“Go out?”

“Yeah, on Friday.”

“Friday?” I parrot, his words not making sense in my head.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Dinner, drinks, whatever the fuck you want, but you and me going out. No family, no friends, no pets, just you and me.
Uninterrupted
,” he answers.

Scratch that. I throw back the rest of my wine thinking it’ll help, but it just makes me a little nauseous.

Memo to me, no shooting wine.

Bad
idea.

“You want to go out with me, just me, this Friday and do whatever I want to do,” I state more than ask, still parroting.

His response is a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Yeah, Annie. What part of that is not coming through to you?”

My eyes get squinty. “Well,
excuse
me. It’s not like I get asked out by seriously hot men every day,” I snip, chock full of attitude that includes a head bob and all.

Crimeny.

Evan would’ve been proud of that move.

“Babe.”

“Babe is not an appropriate response, Jake. It doesn’t say anything,” I reply, still snippety.

It's a lie, though. The few times he’d said ‘babe’, it had said
plenty
, and this one is no different.

I'm just unwilling to go with it.

“Anna, I want to spend time with you. We can go to dinner, we can grab drinks, go walk, I’ll make food at my place, I don’t care what we’re doing as long as I get to do it with you,” he says, his voice soft.