Embrace (Evolve Series #2) (6 page)

Chapter 6

Torment

~Evan~

“
Y
ou gotta bring in some ringers or you’re
screwed.” I bend over, holding my side and laughing so hard I snort.

“What do you mean?” she puffs out as she, too, is
bent over, bracing her hands on her knees, her face flushed.

“Whitley,” I gulp in a deep breath, composing
myself, “when you asked me to coach your Larks for the flag football game, I
assumed at least some of you had played before. Or at least watched a game on
TV? Googled it maybe?”

“Are you saying we suck?”

Suck isn’t even close to a strong enough word for
it. Not one of her songbirds can catch…or throw…or even run fast. And once the
girls’ athletic clubs get ahold of them, it won’t be pretty.

“You need to go out and find a couple of the
fastest, then a couple of the biggest, burliest girls on this campus and make
them a Lark. I’m talking midnight initiation tonight, Whit, even if their
singing sounds like a cat’s tail’s stuck in the door, or you guys will be a
laughingstock.”

Too harsh?
I feel guilty for a split second
and quickly shake it off. I’m guessing it’s not as harsh as making fools of
yourselves in front of the whole campus, so my intentions are on point.

Aggravated now, she tosses down the water bottle in
her hand and steps into me, one perfectly pink-tipped nail poking me in the
chest. “We are smart girls, and
you
are supposedly a football stud,
right? So teach us some tricky moves or sneaky plays like you’re supposed to,
and we’ll be fine.”

“While that sounds like a helluva plan,” I tilt my
head and give her a patronizing grin, “it won’t work. Even if I teach you to
throw, who will catch it? If I teach you to hand-off, who will run it? The
volleyball team, soccer team, and the soft—”
Oh, God, no!
The words hang
in my throat and I have to force them out. “And the softball team will all be
entered, right? Finely tuned, athletic machines running straight at you…this is
a bad idea, Whitley.”

“Oh please,” she scoffs, lightheartedly slapping my
arm, “this is
flag
football, Evan. We don’t want the trophy, we just want
to participate for the camaraderie.”

That sounds right and reasonable. I’m taking this
too seriously. I just see a field, a ball and a hint of competition and go
crazy. This is girls’ flag football for Christ’s sake, how bad can it be?

“Okay, you’re right,” I concede. “Come on, I’ll show
you some plays.”

“Yay!” Whitley bounces up on her tiptoes and plants
an exaggerated kiss on my cheek with a loud “MWAH!”

I think her exuberance surprised even her, because
her cheeks pink a bit as she bounces along beside me back toward the group of
girls waiting for us. We’ve taken about ten steps when we hear a bellow.

“Should I make a path, Coach McGrath?”

Okay, good one. Great movie too.  I turn my head
with a chuckle, seeing Sawyer amble over to us, his smartass smile on full
display as he glances at the group I’m working with.

“Hey, man, you come to help me out?” I ask, the
desperation pathetically evident in my voice.

“No can do,” he retorts all too happily, “I already
bet fifty bucks on the softball team.”

Smart bet. Those girls will be in it to win it if
they’re anything like L—

Speak of the devil. There she is.

As soon as I see her headed across the field, I
panic.
Had she seen Whitley kiss me?
Will she react if she did?
I
forget Sawyer and turn quickly to Whitley. “What time did you say we had the
field until?”

“I guess now.” She shrugs casually. “Surely we were
about done, right?”

Um, not even. We had practiced maybe forty minutes,
tops. We learned one play. Well, I showed them one play…not sure the term
learned
is applicable in this situation. Whitley is by far the one with the most
potential, so she’ll definitely be playing QB. I guess I’ll practice with her
some more, one on one, but right now I’ve got bigger problems…and she’s walking
right towards me.

“Hey, man, y’all bout done?” Zach calls as he
approaches with the team. “I gotta show these diamond dolls some moves.” He smiles
and gives me a fist bump.

We’ll be playing football together, so we’re working,
slowly but surely, on a “broship.” It’s just so damn awkward because they’re
all close with Laney. But what decent guy worth knowing wouldn’t be Laney’s
bud? It’s always been that way, I don’t ever have to waste time “feeling
somebody out,” because I’ve always had the inside track to Laneydar. If she
likes you, you’re all right. Her record is so far flawless in gauging guys.

Girls? Well…the only time she’s ever been wrong is
Kaitlyn, and even Psychic Friends Network didn’t see that coming. Oh, and
Whitley. She’s way off hating her.

I shake myself out of my thoughts and realize that
the whole time I was off in my own world, which was way too long for my taste,
I was staring at Laney.
Just great.
She’s standing a little ways behind
Zach, pretending not to notice me, but she does. Her whole body is tense and
she’s sliding the tip of one cleat back and forth on the turf, watching it like
it’s the most fascinating activity on Earth…she’s well aware of exactly where I
am.

“Yeah, we’re good for today,” I finally answer Zach,
then ask Whitley to let the other girls know we’re done. I wait until she’s
walked away to half-mumble my next question. “So you’re coaching the softball
team, huh?”

“Looks like it. Avery’s on the team, ya know, so…” He
waggles his eyebrows at me. “Coaching gets me brownie points.”

 “Well, I know you’re off to a better start than me.
At least yours are athletes.” I hang my head in a combination of mocking and
honest shame. “Mine are
singers
.”

“Hey! I heard that!” Whitley’s back and just used
her very tiny fist to inflict some very large pain in my chest…right over my
fresh tattoo.

I wince despite my best effort not to, rubbing my
chest, so she feels bad and starts coddling me, going all out with her apology.

“Shoot, Evan I’m sorry, I forgot.” She covers my
hands with hers, essentially helping me rub.

It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, just a
little sting at first, but now…well, we’ve officially caused a scene.

“It’s okay, Whit,” I mumble, “forget about it,
please.
”

Wishing the ground would open and swallow me whole,
I can
feel
her staring at me, and then…

“What’s wrong?” Laney rushes to me, her voice edged
with concern, her eyes worried. “Evan, are you actually hurt?” She went from
ignoring indifference to Florence Nightingale in milliseconds.

“I’m fine,” I bark, looking at the ground.
Except
I’m not fine since you’re in my air space and now I can’t breathe. And I can
smell you from here; I can smell that lavender lotion and the shampoo you love
that comes in the green and white bottle.

“Bullshit, I saw you flinch. What is it?” Her face
wears a mask of anger, so focused on me I don’t know that she realizes she just
hedged Whitley out of the way with her shoulder and hip, grabbing at me now,
pushing my hands out of her way and pulling on my shirt, trying to get a peek.

The most interaction we’ve had in eons and this is
it? Her mauling me in front of everyone, thinking I’m hurt and need her to save
me? My body is happy she’s near, my heart so ready to soak up any attention she
offers and quit aching, but my mind…my mind is still pissed.

“I’m not hurt, all right?” I speak too loudly, too gruffly,
and even Whitley twitches at my tone.

But Laney? Laney holds strong, her mocha eyes
challenging me like they always have.

“It’s a tattoo, geez,” I grumble, pulling up my
shirt to show her.

Now it’s Laney’s turn to gasp. “What the hell is
that
?”
She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again quickly, as
though she was hallucinating and just needed to refresh her vision. She’s gonna
be disappointed, cause it’s still there. “Since when are you into tattoos?” she
bites out, one hand on a very angry cocked hip.

“Since now, I guess,” I offer with a gratifying
simper on my face. “Guess we’re both into new things these days, huh?”

The torment that flashes in her eyes is
unmistakable, even if fleeting, and like always, I feel bad. All I was trying
to do was stand up for myself, but I feel like shit. This isn’t how I wanted to
do things.

“Isn’t it cool?”

Oh Lord
,
here we go
, is all I can
think as Whitley taunts Laney with her purring question, her hand now on my
shoulder.

“Well, since I’m pretty sure you’re not all of a
sudden a sailor, or wilderness guide,
Evan
,” she starts, her tone
scathing, “why’d you put a compass on your chest? Do your parents know?”

The inflection and glare she wears is probably the
only warning Whitley’s gonna get to butt the fuck out or get cold cocked, and
I’m nervous for a second that Laney’s gonna hit her.

 “Whitley picked it, and no, they don’t know…yet.”

She no more heard the last six words of that
sentence than the man in the moon. Laney checked out, and Maleficent, her
favorite Disney witch, checked in right when I announced Whitley’s involvement.
I am a bad, bad man and my mama would test my ass if she knew my thoughts right
now, because while I am seriously concerned for Whitley’s safety at this
moment, the bigger part of me is tickled shitless that Ms. Laney Jo Walker is
pissed as hell.

“Why would you pick a compass?” she now asks
Whitley, advancing a step toward her, seething.

I slide over just a tad, cutting her off at the
pass. It isn’t looking good. She must have seen the kiss; this reaction is
about more than just the tattoo.

“Why would you care?” Whitley challenges.

Not good! Abort mission!!

Laney shifts her fiery eyes at me, and I know what
she’s waiting for. She’s expecting good ol’ Evan to jump in and defend her.
Yes, my every instinct, and my heart, tell me to do it…but my mind wins, and I
simply give her a sheepish shrug.

“Why
would
you care, prince—” I stop myself
and clear my throat. “Laney?”

Her sweet little mouth drops open and her face heats
scarlet as the flush sweeps up her neck. She’s ready to spew venom, but then
clamps her mouth shut in an attempt at self-preservation. She looks like a
guppy. I don’t get an answer. She spins abruptly on one heel, away from us, calling
to Zach, who raises his head from where he’s bent over, helping Avery with
something, and looks at her. “I’ll catch up with you guys next practice. I’m
good anyway,” she flips her head back around and cooks Whitley with her blazing
eyes, “Evan taught me how to play my whole life.”

“Show’s over then? Cool!” Whitley happily places
both hands on my shoulders and grips down. “Catch me, Ev!” She jumps on for a
piggyback ride and giggles. “Let’s go!”

I walk away as fast as I can, toting Whitley, just
wanting to get us out of everyone’s scope.

Chapter 7

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

~Laney~

“
H
ello?”

“Zach, don’t say my name,” I choke out, storming
across the lot as fast as my shaking legs will carry me.

“What’s wrong? Where’d you—” his voice comes loud
and worried through the phone.

“Don’t say that!” I interrupt.
God, how
embarrassing.
“Can you walk away from everyone and talk to me for a minute?
Where no one can hear you.” My voice is nasally and obnoxious, getting on my
own nerves.

“Yeah, Mom, hang on.”

Note to self: Zach—not a great actor.

“Okay, Laney, I’m by myself now,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry I bailed on practice, and I’m sorry to
bug you now, but I need a Zach of Infinite Wisdom fix real bad right about
now.”

“Let’s pretend I don’t already know what’s up your
ass and you go ahead. It’ll give you a chance to vent.”

All right, so that
almost
makes me grin.

“He just hung all over that bitch right in front of
me just to piss me off, and it worked! Seriously, she’s picking out his
tattoos? Nothing I did was to purposely hurt him. How long did I absolutely
torture myself NOT to hurt him Zach, huh? A long ass time!” I come up for air,
waiting for him to tell me how right I am while I climb in my truck.

“Laney, you know I love you, right?”

This can’t be good.

“Yes…”

“Then you know it’s with love when I say this.”

His dramatic pause that makes my skin crawl.

“Get over yourself! I don’t care if he fucked her on
the field and asked you to film it. You may not have meant to, but you
destroyed
that kid. He’s here with no friends, no girl and a new team. Sound familiar?
He’s just trying to put one foot in front of the other every day, just like you
did. You got your happily ever after, so back the fuck off and let him
try
to find his.”

Well then. Zach-1. Laney-0.

It hurts; I’m not even gonna pretend it doesn’t, but
his words are honest…and absolutely dead on. It makes me angry at myself for
being the cause of such sad, but true, words describing the crushing of my
Evan. It’s a lot to think on and I have to do that now before I cruise right
out of control.

“You’re right, Zach,” I whisper. “That’s why I call
you. I’ll always get what I need to hear straight up. Thanks.”

“I love ya, Laney. Don’t be mad at me, but don’t ask
for my advice if you don’t want it.”

“God, if that isn’t the truth,” I scoff loudly. “You’re
harsh, but right. That’s why you’re my number one advisor. I’m not mad, I
swear. Now go coach! I’ll talk to ya later.”

“Later, Laney.”

I hang up and stare out my windshield, pondering.
Zach is right, I’m being a selfish bitch. Sure, I hate Whitley and would rather
Evan engaged in orgies than in her, but he’s absolutely justified in doing
whatever he wants. I start my truck, headed nowhere on gas I can’t afford to
waste, and drive until I make about a two mile circle twice, finally pulling
into the very back of my dorm parking lot, hiding my truck as well as possible
between a big dually and the dumpsters.

I lay down across my seat so no one will see me just
sitting alone in a parking lot and pull my phone out of my pocket, because no
pity party is complete without music, right? I let the music take over, my
thoughts drifting aimlessly, to nowhere in particular, on a whim. Wouldn’t it
be nice if life was like that? But it’s not. Every action has a reaction, a
consequence, for which the collector will one day come to get your toll. I made
a choice, one I don’t regret on every single level, yet feel remorse for in my
every pore. Like a fool, I thought it’d all be fine, that I could hide behind
the miles between us, in my Dane bliss, like a heartless wench. But the toll collector
came a callin’.

Evan is here, and yet, I miss him more than ever.
Yes, this is the part where everyone around me screams, “If that whiny bitch
double dips or flip-flops again, I’m gonna kick her ass myself!” Not what I’m
doing. I love Dane, completely and unashamedly, and I’m not walking away from
him, no matter what…but I have to fix my core, the basis of a lifetime of
events that made me
me
, and that core is Evan and Laney, the best kind
of friends.

When “I Never Told You” by Colbie Caillat starts
playing, I decide it’s a sickly, ironic sign that I’ve wallowed in a pool of
self-pity long enough and get up. I climb out and wrap my arms around myself,
shuffling slowly to my room.

“
W
here you been, baby?”

Dane, of course, is looking perfectly beautiful, a
crisp white dress shirt untucked over dark wash jeans and “I dare ya to mess it
up more” hair, and waiting in my dorm room when I slug inside.

“Flag football practice,” I mutter, sitting on the
edge of the bed to pull off my cleats and socks, shrugging off my jacket as
well. When he doesn’t answer, I look up at him to find a scowl. “What?”

His arms cross over his chest and he widens his
stance, though I don’t think he knows he did it. “Oh yeah? How’d it go?”

He knows I’m hiding something. Decision time—fess up
or roll with it? The latter is a horrible idea considering I suspect Dane
really does have a Laney crystal ball tucked away somewhere, but you know
me….daredevil. “It went good; I think we’ll win.” Of course we’ll win, we’re
the freaking softball team for crying out loud! The intimidation factor alone
is worth a touchdown.

His arms drop and he stalks my way, bending over me,
forcing me to lay back on the bed. “That your final answer?” he growls.

Speaking of holy hotness intimidation factor… I
swallow hard and mentally chastise my libido before looking up at his gorgeous
face and answering him in a quivering voice. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he runs his nose the length of mine, blanketing
our bodies together, “that I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

That bossy mouth of his skims my jaw, his teeth
taking little nips along the way until he’s sucking right below my ear. Oh
yeah, he knows all the weak spots to elicit a confession and he’s hitting them
all just right.

“You don’t play fair,” I moan, pulling my legs up to
rest my feet on the mattress, tightening my knees around him, my deceitful hands
running up his back.

“And you don’t lie,” he breathes against me, “so
tell me what’s going on before I flip you over and spank that tight ass red.”
Is he trying to help or hurt his cause? ‘Cause I gotta say…my jury is still out
and my heart is actually sweating right now.

“I went to—”
Oh God
,
never stop doing
that
.

He grinds against me, curving his body down and in
then back up, sending my mind to meltdown. “Go on,” he orders me in a deep
grumble.

“I drove in big circles, then sat undercover in the
parking lot to think. Today was awful.”

There
. You win…you sexy, playing dirty God.

He moves off me, dragging his fingertips down me as
he goes, and sits up beside me on the bed. “Come here,” he says faintly,
holding out his hand to pull me up. When I’m sitting up with him, he cups one
of my cheeks with his long, brilliant fingers, running his thumb along my
bottom lip. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.” He drops a sweet kiss on the end of
my nose. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing; all better now.” I attempt to climb
into his lap, wanting nothing more than for him to heal me, love me, make
everything better, but he laughs lightly and holds me back with his hands on my
shoulders.

“No way, not until you talk. I want your all, Laney.
That means when something’s not right with you, then nothing’s right with me.”
He ducks his head and tilts it, forcing me to meet his deep brown gaze. “Tell
me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”

“I-I saw Evan,” I stammer lowly. “He’s coaching
Whitley’s
team. She picked out his new tattoo.”

If he’d have just said it to me, I know exactly what
I’d say, so his response…I could have quoted it verbatim for him.

“And you care why?”

Yep, I’d say that’s about right, word for word. His
glower is angry, his eyes questioning. I don’t blame him a bit, but he asked.
In fact, he lusciously coerced me.

This time I don’t let him stop me, I successfully
curl myself into his lap and bury my face in his neck. He smells so freaking
good and I can feel his displeased heartbeat against my chin.

“I don’t know the right answer, and I don’t want to
make you mad,” I admit.

The deep breath he lets out ruffles my hair. “There’s
no right or wrong answer, Laney. Just tell me exactly what you’re feeling, what
you’re thinking. I’m so sick of talking about him I could rage, but I know it’s
a whole new level of difficult since he’s here now. So let’s do this one more
time; let’s talk.” He kisses my forehead, gliding his hand along the back of my
hair, telling me it’s okay, that he wants to hear what’s inside me because he
wants to live there too.

“I love you. You are my fire, my intensity, my must
have, my awakening,” I say sincerely. “You’re the lap I always want to cuddle
in, the lips I want to kiss, the mind I want to challenge, the laugh I want to
draw out. Okay?”

The smile that lights up his face and the secure
calmness that takes over those deep brown eyes is breathtaking. “I know, baby.
I love you, too, so much. And later, I want you to moan all of that in my ear,
over and over, while I make love to your sweet body all night long. But right
now, I want to figure this shit out so we can move on.”

Well who the hell can think when he says things like
that? I clench my thighs together, tightening my grip around his neck.

“Fine,” I huff out, “I’m jealous that he’s doing
shit with her and he’s not even my friend anymore. It pisses me off that my
best friend inked up his fucking chest and I didn’t even know. But most of all,
I hate that one of the most wonderful people in the whole world hates me.” One
lone tear dares to drop out of my eye and I feel him startle when the moisture
hits his skin. “Usually I don’t care what people think of me, but someone like
Evan, well, you give a shit if he thinks badly of you. It means you really are
a crap person.”

“Baby, I’m gonna say this once, then I’m going to
get up and walk out so that I don’t change my mind. I love you and I trust you,
so go find him, text him, whatever… Fix it. I’ll give you until ten to come to
me, and when you do, it’s just me and you. No one or nothing else gets in.
Deal?”

I lift my head in shock. What guy sends their
girlfriend to find their ex? Dane Kendrick, in all his domineering, secure,
sexy fucking excellence, that’s who. He even bosses me when he’s sending me to
find Evan… It’s the sexiest thing ever.

I nod and then I grab his face and kiss him like I’ll
never get to again. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me against him,
our bodies molding like our mouths. He breaks away first, setting me off him
and onto the bed, standing and moving swiftly to the door.

“Ten o’clock,” he repeats, turning back to look at
me, my hair mussed and my lips swollen, “or anytime really. Call me if you need
me and know I love you.”

With a wink, he leaves and I grab my phone to text
Evan. That is, once I regain full use of my senses.