We had both said our goodbyes and yet neither of us moved. Strangely, the stretches of silence that seemed awkward at first suddenly felt comfortable. We did nothing but stand and stare at each other and yet, I had no desire to leave. "You sure you want to..." His voice trailed off when someone spoke behind me.
"Hey, Farrah said she saw you. What are you doing down here?" Evan asked, making me jump for the second time in less than five minutes. His tone changed abruptly when he spotted Josh.
"I was just talking to Josh," I answered, wishing Evan would have waited another couple of minutes to look for me. I was curious to know what Josh had been about to say.
Evan stepped up with his chest puffed out, sliding an arm around my waist to claim instant ownership.
"Passing out more citations, sheriff? Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Lifeguard." His voice dripped with sarcasm as thick as syrup.
Josh held firm in his stance as his smile turned brittle. "Like that would do any good. Your daddy would just buy off another judge," he said, shooting me a look of disgust before walking away and fading into the dark shadows.
"I didn't realize you knew Needle Dick," Evan said, eyeing me critically.
For some reason I felt like I should defend Josh. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them as Evan handed me the ice-cold beer he was holding as he guided me toward his house. I had no idea what the history was between Evan and Josh, but considering I barely knew either of them, I felt it
wasn't my place to get in the middle of it.
I shrugged, accepting the beer. "I don't really know him. We met briefly the other day when I almost stepped on some turtle eggs. He wasn't all that happy about it," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Evan snorted. "I bet. I'm surprised he didn't call the Coast Guard. He's a fucking pain in the ass around here. One of these days I'm going to sink my fist in his jaw just to knock him down a few pegs."
I almost laughed out loud at his statement. I didn't know how to break it to Evan, but Josh looked like he would slaughter him. He easily had a good six inches in height on Evan and was a whole lot broader in the chest and shoulders. Evan was pretty, but that was about it. I took a long deep swallow of my beer to keep from laughing.
Evan's eyes focused on my mouth as I took another pull from my bottle. It reminded me of the way he looked at me at the pool earlier. Between that and some of his comments, I was beginning to think his only goal was to get in my pants.
Disappointment washed over me. I was trying hard to give him the benefit of the doubt and hope his interest was genuine. After spending the afternoon together, I'd gotten a glimpse of two sides of Evan. He had a gentle, sweet side and was actually much more insightful than he let on. Then there was the apparent hormone-driven Evan that, unfortunately, had a way of negatively eclipsing the other.
Chapter 5
"So, how's the party going?" I asked, once again hoping this tiger might change his stripes.
"Same ole. I did hear there's some kick-ass weed floating around that'll make you forget your name. Come on, I'll see if we can hook you up," he said, throwing his arm over my shoulders.
"Can't. I have borderline asthma that acts up around smoke," I answered truthfully. My parents and I discovered my ailment when I was three years old and Butch lit up his bong with me in the room. According to Buttercup, I started hacking and wheezing almost immediately and totally freaked Butch out. After a trip to County Hospital he gave up pot that very day. At least with me around, he did. I sometimes wondered if he still blazed up when he was alone.
"What a drag. You sure? Once you start inhaling you don't even notice the smoke," he offered ignorantly.
"I appreciate it, but it's more the part of sucking something down into my lungs."
"No biggie. I'm sure we can score you something else. You can never tell what someone will show up with. I guarantee there's some Adderall or Vicodin here somewhere."
"That's fine. I'm not much into the whole drug scene."
I didn't see any point in sharing that I'd pretty much tried everything, but none of it really appealed to me. I never minded the way alcohol muted my senses when I needed to mellow out, but drugs had a way of changing who you were as a person.
"It's cool. I like to de-stress, that's all," Evan said, leading me toward the wooden stairs that led to the pool deck. Once again his statement made me want to chuckle. I wondered what someone who seemingly had everything could possibly need to de-stress about. Which house to stay at? Which one of his dozen or so cars to drive? If only I had those types of decisions to stress over. My sudden disparaging thoughts toward Evan surprised me. I had never been like that with any of my friends. Truthfully, I liked Evan and certainly had no reason to pick at him other than hoping he turned out to be genuine in his interest toward me.
He placed his hand on the small of my back as we reached the last step. His touch felt warm and comforting through the thin material of my summer dress. I decided to push the bitchy critical thoughts from my mind, determined to enjoy my first party in Turtle Bay. Evan was a gracious host, introducing me to everyone, though I forgot most of their names almost the instant we walked away from them. I was relieved to see the dancing that Farrah had hinted at earlier consisted of a two-by-two-foot space that only she had designated as the dance floor. She was standing alone, swaying her hips when Evan and I stepped onto the deck, but after our lap around to meet everyone, Farrah seemed to have given up dancing and was now sprawled out on one of the lounge chairs. Leslie and Paris, who looked more bored than anything, barely glanced up from their phones to acknowledge me.
With the exception of the large beach house, Evan's bash turned out to be much like the parties I attended in Huntsville with loud music, drinking games, and couples making out. There was a whole lot more booze flowing freely here and just like Evan said, the drugs were more plentiful, but the rest was the same.
"So, what did you think?" Evan asked, lacing his fingers through mine as the party began to wind down a few hours later. We sat outside on two lounge chairs while a few other partygoers leisurely swam in his pool. I noticed a couple disappearing back into the shadows, looking for privacy. Maybe it was too much drinking or the weed that had been passed around, but the mood of the party guests that still hung around had changed from high octane to a mellow chill.
"It was cool. You throw a good party," I answered, looking down at our hands. I liked the way his fingers felt, wrapped possessively around mine. Maybe my assessment of Evan had been wrong. Maybe he was interested in a relationship and not just trying to score.
"Yeah, but was it fun?" he persisted.
"Sure, why?" I asked, wondering what he meant.