Page 28 of Craving Consequences

We follow her past Easter and Valentine’s, to Christmas. We stop at Halloween when Van plucks a black, suede cowboy hat off a plastic bin on the top shelf.

He drops it down on his head and tips the brim back with a knuckle.

“Think I can pull it off?”

Everly chuckles, but I bite my amusement back behind a scowl. “You look like an idiot.”

Everly gasps and grabs my arm as if to stop me. “Don’t say that!” To Van, she says, “You look very nice.”

He gives her a lazy, lopsided grin that contradicts his usual hard edges. “Think Jefferson needs a cowboy? ”

She grins up at him. “I don’t think the single ladies would know what to do with themselves.”

Van hums softly and lifts the hat off. He replaces it back on the shelf.

“Definitely don’t want that attention,” he mutters.

Everly scoffs and starts past him in the direction of the shelf labeled party. “There are a few really nice ladies I think you would like a lot if you’d give them a chance.”

I don’t have to see my friend’s expression to feel his disinterest. He doesn’t have to say a word when his eyes are fixed on her like the five feet she’s put between them is too much.

The longing is unmistakable, and so damn similar to mine I have to move to the door before I put us both out of our misery by dragging Everly between us and reminding her how good we can make her feel.

Our tiny bundle of temptation chatters on while pulling out boxes and rifling through them. She’s listing off names of women she thinks Van would get along with. Stopping only occasionally to examine an item. Missing the scowl steadily darkening his features.

“If you like, I can set something up—”

Even I don’t see Van close the distance between them until he’s encroaching on her space, forcing her back into the shelves with him dogging her steps.

“I don’t want them. ”

Everly is staring up at him with big eyes and parted lips, and a bottomless need that tugs on my gut.

“Mr. Weaver?” she whispers.

In an act that has even me sucking in a breath, Van reaches up and lightly brushes a coil of hair off her cheek. His fingers grazes the flushed contour, making her lashes flutter. When she looks up at him again, there is a bomb ready to detonate in her eyes that could take us all out.

“It’s Van. And I don’t want them,” he repeats softer, but with an implication that has my molars grinding.

Everly skates a pink tongue over the bottom curve of her full lip before whispering, “Not even Maisie Baker? She—”

Van’s big hand clamps around the back of her slender neck and she’s yanked into his chest. Into his arms. Her fingers twist into the fabric of his t-shirt for balance as he holds her hostage.

“No,” he growls down into her upturned face.

The slim column of her throat flexes even as she visibly fights to contain her every ragged pant. “You’d get fresh muffins every morning.”

He must have tightened his hold; Everly gasps as she’s dragged up onto her toes. Front fully wedged against his.

“Can you bake?”

Goddamn this guy. What the hell is he doing? This is the exact opposite of what we discussed the night before .

“Do you want me to bake you muffins, Van?”

I think she’s teasing him, but it’s hard to tell when the question is a weak murmur.

“I like chunky chocolate,” he murmurs, and even I’m sucker punched by the timid little grin uncurling across her face.

“I’ve never been good at baking.”

“I’ll teach you.”

I’m going to punch the man in the mouth if he doesn’t stop soon. If he doesn’t fucking kiss her already. He’s already inches from her sweet mouth. What the fuck is he even waiting for? I swear to God, if he doesn’t get his ass on it, I’ll—

“Hey, Everly, I saw you pull in,” calls a male voice from just outside the door.

The two entwined in the murky depths of the dusty storage unit scramble apart like a lit match has been tossed between them.

Everly hurriedly brushes small hands down her front, smoothing invisible wrinkles while Van glowers at the opening behind me just as Bryan Markley ambles into view in his white uniform top with the storage logo emblazoned across the right breast and faded jeans.

He scoops back a heavy swatch of straw-blond off his blue eyes.

His mop of straw-blond falls over squinting blue eyes that he flips back with a hand.

Everly is the only one who smiles, but even I can tell it’s forced and tight with barely restrained panic .

“Hey, Bryan.” Even her voice is too loud in the silence. “How are you?”

Bryan slants her an easy grin that he extends to me and Van. “Doing good. Hey, Mr. Shaw. Mr. Weaver. Didn’t know you guys were here, too.”

“The giant white truck didn’t give it away?” I snip back.

It’s uncalled for. My tone is rude and dismissive, but I really hate the way he keeps staring at Everly. I dislike his eyes on her at all, but more so the way he keeps drifting back to her like she’s a magnet he can’t shake.

“I guess you’re right.” He barely even glances in my direction before he’s staring at Everly again. “We missed you last night. Was kind of hoping you’d show up.”

I don’t know who we is, but I definitely don’t like it.

“Show up?” Everly asks softly.

All ten fingers vanish into the front pockets of his jeans and Bryan rocks back from toe to heel. “Yeah, the bonfire? Bron and Lauren were there so I kind of guessed you’d be coming, too, especially because Lauren kept looking for you.”

I don’t have to face Everly to feel the oxygen leave the muggy box. To sense the rising tension as the weight of those seemingly innocent words settle like a rock in the silence.

But she catches herself and the stricken expression dissolves into one of embarrassment. “I got caught up with work stuff. ”

Bryan bobs his head like a puppet. “I figured. You’re always working so hard. Kind of sucks, though, not having you there.”

It’s hard to tell what Everly’s thinking when she’s wearing her polite little smile. The one she can slap on in a second while following Mayor Ferguson around town. Or at church. I’ve seen it slip fluidly into place a million times and still she’s incapable of making that smile reach her eyes.

“Maybe next time.”

The kid rocks forward and back again, but his attention has moved to me and Van, and the open storage unit.

“What are we grabbing?”

None of your business, is my near response, but Everly beats me to it.

“Just picking some decorations up for the party. Mr. Weaver and Mr. Shaw are giving me a hand.”

She could have declared an early Christmas for the way Bryan’s whole face lights up.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. It’s going to be awesome.” He darts a glance over the row of shelves. “Can I help?”

“We got it,” I cut in before Everly can invite the asshole to join us.

His dumb ass grin dims slightly. “I don’t mind.

It’s quiet at the office and I’d rather talk to you, anyway.

” His stupid grin returns with a lopsided charm that he probably thinks is boyish and sweet, but makes him look like someone who’s about to meet my fist. “You look really pretty today. I like your hair like that.”

Definitely about to get his teeth knocked down his throat. My fingers are already tightly bunched at my sides. One more word and I’m flattening him.

“Thank you, but I think we got this covered,” Everly assures him sweetly with a smile she should not be handing out so freely. “I appreciate the offer, though. Say hi to your mom for me, will you? And I’ll see you this weekend.”

He sweeps his fingers through his hair, tussling it like some damn Baywatch reject and puffs out his scrawny chest.

“Sure. Yeah. I’ll see you at the party. Can’t wait.

” I think that’s the end of that when he starts to turn away only to snap back with the excitement of a Golden Retriever presented with a stick.

“Hey, why don’t I go down with you to set up?

I can take a few days off. Mom won’t mind if I tell her I’m helping you.

You know she loves you. I can bring the drinks—”

“No, Bryan,” I snap, losing the war at the thought of him getting my Everly drunk. “We have it covered.”

The stupid, hopeful smile vanishes at my sharp tone, but Everly speaks up, casting me a hard glare before facing Bryan with her kindness.

“Thank you, but I have help. ”

When he lingers like he has more to say, like he can’t drag his sorry ass away from staring at Everly like some lovesick dickhole, I help him.

“Bye, Bryan.”

He blinks and shuffles and rolls his shoulders back. “Sure. See ya. I’ll catch you this weekend.”

With a fucking wink that sets my teeth on edge, the fucker skips off.

I face Everly once he’s fully out of view. “Stay away from him.”

Her smile slips as she rounds on me with her own simmering anger. “Why? Bryan’s sweet. He’s actually a really nice guy and you were so rude to him.”

“There is no such thing as a nice guy, Everly. Just a guy waiting to get into your pants,” I snap back. “And he’s practically chomping on the bit to climb into yours.”

“That is ridiculous. Not every guy wants to get into...” she cuts herself off and stabs tiny fists into her hips. “I am not explaining myself. Bryan has been nothing but respectful.”

“Respectful? There isn’t a respectful thought in that kid’s head where you’re concerned.”

There’s no missing the heat rising beneath her soft skin when she’s practically glowing like a stop sign. “That’s insane. He knows I’m with Bron, and he has never done anything to—”

I fail to regulate my rage when I growl, “Van and I were standing right here, and he was practically eye-fucking you, Everly.”

Her mouth falls open and she seems momentarily stunned. I think I’ve won when she puffs up. “You know what, Mr. Shaw? I’m a single, twenty-five-year-old woman. Maybe I’m okay with it. Maybe I want him to eye-fuck me. Maybe I’ll even let him—”