Page 42 of Dedicated
Evan:Oh. Yeah. Already saw ’em. Stiff competition for sure. Jealous?
Les:I don’t do jealousy.
Evan:Ever? I don’t believe that.
Les:Seriously. Where r u?
Evan:On the dock. Come down. I think this guy is trying to hit on me. Need backup.
Les:Tell him your boyfriend will break his face. I don’t care if he’s a fan.
Evan:I thought you didn’t do jealousy?
Les:I do it selectively when the person in question is my fake boyfriend.
Lie. Total, total lie. I was seething with jealousy right then, wondering if Evan was actually serious and there was some dude down there hitting on him.
Evan:Oh. Right. I forgot.
Les:No you didn’t. But if you need a reminder, I’m more than willing to give you one.
Evan:Maybe. When we get back to the cabin? Because I might pass out.
I looked around and caught sight of a greenhouse-looking structure off in the distance.
Les:No. Now. Not willing to risk your lightweight ass passing out.
Evan:Maybe. Kinda busy here.
Les:Will. Break. His. Face. Get the fuck up here. Greenhouse. Five minutes.
Chapter 27
Ihalf thought Evan wouldn’t show up. Five minutes passed. I pulled a few needles from the boughs of the pine above me and broke them between my fingers, inhaling the pungent scent. Another minute and I was just about to walk back toward the house when I glimpsed a dark silhouette weaving in my direction. Evan stumbled over something on the grass, and I chuckled as he closed in. “Got caught up on the way. Man, Maize is a chatterbox.”
“You’re drunk,” I observed, amused. His hair was windblown, cheeks slightly flushed. Not that I minded. Hell, I wished I was there with him, but I was trying to show him I could be reliable and not a fuckup.
“I’m not.” He bullied right on into me, knocking me into a tree trunk, then took a step back, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking around. “So.”
“So,” I repeated.
He cleared his throat. “Here we are in the trees, which is weird.”
“You’ve never made out in the woods before?”
He shrugged. “Not that I can remember, nope.”
“Oh c’mon, you’re a country boy. Really?”
He tipped his head back, gazing up into the boughs in thought, then shook his head. “Nope, nothing. I was always working for extra money or playing music or… I didn’t get invited to many parties.Anyparties.”
“Shit, that’s kind of depressing.”
“It is what it is.” He shrugged, then laughed at my expression. “Are you really pitying me? Don’t. I didn’t miss out on anything.”
“That’s ’cause you didn’t know any better.” I reached out and caught his wrists in my hands. “Let’s fix that.”
He let me pull him closer, his chest bumping up against me, and when I hooked two fingers over the collar of his shirt and tugged, his mouth slanted hungrily toward mine, teeth scraping at my lower lip. I kept my grip on his collar and walked him backward across the grass until his back was against the greenhouse, the glass still warm when I pressed my palms into it, caging him in.