Page 11 of Duress (Birch Falls #3)

DANE

I t’s Sunday morning, and it’s been three days since Everly and I kissed.

She hasn’t responded to my texts, and Bryce hasn’t stopped pestering me about needing to talk to me.

I’ve been avoiding his demands for us to meet.

After he blew me off, I was already done entertaining his ass, but now I don’t want to see him until Everly and I talk.

I don’t blame her for needing time to process, but I need to know if she told him.

Or how she feels about what happened. I just need to know that she’s okay.

I’m walking around downtown on a gorgeous fall morning, trying to distract myself from the Everly situation.

I spent my entire Saturday wallowing at home, hoping like hell she would call or text me.

She never did, and I’m doing my best not to fall into a spiral wondering if Bryce knows what happened.

Taking a break from my stroll in downtown Birch Falls, I pull out my phone and look at my text thread to Everly. Each message is read but ignored.

Dane:

Can we talk?

Saturday 10:15AM

Ever, call me when you get a chance.

Please.

I did my best to keep my messages innocuous-sounding, in case Bryce looks at her phone, but now worry that maybe he saw them and suspects something happened creeps into the back of my mind. I decide to try one more time, with a message that might pique her interest.

Dane

Serena said she wants to talk to you about bringing your art therapy to Whispering Grove. She spoke to the director there, and they would love to have you there. They’ve been searching for someone to run a program like that. Can I give her your number?

There, a text that needs a response. And it gives me a cover story if Bryce has been looking at her phone and wondering why I have been texting her. Tucking my phone away, I resume my walk to Brewed Awakening, on the search for a decent cup of coffee and a slice of their cranberry-orange loaf.

Just as I pass the outdoor dining area of Knead, a popular spot for brunch in Birch Falls, a familiar laugh catches my attention. There is Everly, sitting at a table with another woman. I stop in my tracks and take in the scene, making sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me.

Yup, it’s Everly alright. She’s angled facing away from the sidewalk, but I can still see enough of her profile to know it’s her.

Her hair sits on her head in a sleek high ponytail.

She’s dressed up more than usual, wearing a navy-blue dress and heels.

There is even a strand of pearls wrapped around her beautiful throat.

She looks like she should be heading to some sort of office job, not out having brunch.

Then I see her companion and realize she must be dressed up to match her.

This must be one of the stuffy attorneys’ wives she was complaining about being forced to hang out with.

The other woman is wearing a fancy-looking shift dress and heels that look wildly impractical.

Stepping behind one of the trees that line the sidewalk, I take a moment to watch her.

Seeing her face for the first time after our kiss is like seeing the sun come out after a week of rain and gloom.

I didn’t realize how deep my need to see her again was until just now.

It takes all of my self-control not to walk into the restaurant and make her talk to me.

I know that would not end well for her. Not with one of those gossipy housewives there to witness it.

So I tuck my hands into my pockets, lean against the tree, and just watch.

There is a smile on Everly’s face, and she’s laughing, but she seems…

off. Her laugh doesn’t sound like it did on Thursday night, when she collapsed against me in a fit of laughter during Pictionary.

It’s a higher pitch and sounds forced. Her smile appears strained.

The light in her eyes is di m. She’s faking it.

Putting on some sort of show for whomever it is she’s with.

The more I watch her, the more I notice.

Her posture is stiff and uncomfortable. She’s barely touched the food on her plate.

The other woman says something I can’t make out, and the smile slips off Everly’s face briefly before coming back.

It’s clear she is not enjoying this meal or the company.

I decide to stick around until she is done hoping I can catch her as she leaves. I know it’s a little creepy to lurk around waiting for her, but I need to talk to her. The need to check on her is steering this ship at the moment, and my rational brain can’t seem to take back control.

Brewed Awakening is across the street from Knead, with a direct view of the patio where Everly sits. I continue with my mission for coffee and a slice of cranberry bread, but instead of taking it home, I sit at the counter that lines the window facing the street and wait for Everly.

After an excruciating hour of watching Everly fake her way through brunch with false smiles and barely disguised disinterest, the women stand from their table, having finally paid their check.

I wait to watch them leave, to make sure they didn’t arrive together.

I won’t approach Everly in front of her “friend” and risk it getting back to Bryce.

The women share a brief hug once they exit the restaurant, then part ways, giving me my cue to follow Everly.

Even though my coffee is long gone, I keep the empty cup as a prop. An easy excuse to show it’s just a coincidence that I’m running into Everly downtown. She doesn’t need to know I’ve been a creepy stalker watching her for the last hour.

She walks toward the paid parking lot next to Brewed Awakening. Perfect. Timing my exit, I walk out just as she gets to my side of the street, forcing us to cross paths. She’s distracted, looking at her phone, hopefully reading my text. I call out her name, garnering her attention. “Everly?”

She stumbles to a stop at the sound of my voice. When she looks up, her mouth drops open, and her eyes widen in surprise. Yup, she’s definitely avoiding me.

“D-Dane. Hey…umm…” Not willing to let her off with an excuse to avoid talking, I take control of the conversation. I reach out and take her hand, pulling her off to the side out of the way of pedestrian traffic.

“Ever, can we talk?” I do my best to keep my voice calm.

I don’t want to give her any impression that I’m angry.

I watch at she scans our surroundings, maybe looking for anyone who might see us.

Blowing out a sigh, she nods, relenting to my request. I spy her car at the back of the lot, so I lead her toward it so we can have some privacy. Hopefully that will put her at ease.

Once we are in her car, I can see her visibly relax.

She leans her head back against the head rest, closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, holding it for a four count before slowly releasing it.

I’ve seen her do this before. It’s how she centers herself before starting an art therapy session.

I think she called it box breathing. She used to do it with Mom before they began each session.

I watch her do it two more times before she opens her eyes and directs all of her attention toward me .

“What do you want to talk about, Dane?”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay. I know you feel like that kiss was a mistake, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to pressure you into telling Bryce or doing it again. If you feel like you need to tell him though, then I’ll deal with it. I want to know where your head is.”

Apparently whatever Everly was expecting me to say, it wasn’t that. Her eyes soften at my words, and a small smile plays at the corner of her mouth. I think she’s so used to Bryce’s demands and coldness that she didn’t expect me to hit her with empathy and understanding.

“I haven’t told Bryce. I don’t plan to. I know your relationship with him is strained enough, and I don’t want to make it worse. I was drunk and sad and…I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry, Dane.”

“I’m not.” I mean it too. I’m not sorry at all that she kissed me.

I hope it’s the catalyst she needs to realize she can do better than Bryce.

That she doesn’t have to settle for him.

Even if she doesn’t wind up with me, I can’t stand the idea of a woman like Everly withering away under Bryce’s shadow.

“I’m not sorry you kissed me. I think you are incredible, Ever.

I’ve felt that way for a long time. Probably for way longer than I should have.

You are so much better than my brother. You deserve someone who loves you for the light you shine into the world.

Not someone who tries to make you dim it.

I just want to be here for you. Help you find a way to shine. ”

Everly’s eyes shimmer with tears. My words hit their intended target .

“Let me be there for you. Don’t shut me out. Please.” Everly closes her eyes, causes the tears to finally break free and trickle down her cheeks. Her mouth presses into a thin line, like she’s fighting back a sob. After a long, tense moment, her head nods.

Not ready to push my luck, I decide to change topics. Pull us back from the same charged energy that was surrounding us Thursday night when we kissed.

“So can I give Serena your number?”

Everly huffs out a laugh as she wipes away her tears. “Yeah, sure. You can give my number to Serena.”