Finding Evan (15 page)

“What he said about me, it’s not true.”

“I don’t believe him; someone treating you like that and saying those things about you is what bothers me. I came this close to fucking punching him.” Evan holds up two fingers with a tiny gap between.

“That’s what he wanted.” I touch Evan’s hand, hoping he calms.

“I know. Which is why I didn’t.”

I rest against the wall next to him, flinching as the cool bricks touch my naked arms. “You’re not a violent person, Evan. I know you wouldn’t have done anything.”

He worries at his lip. “I know I’m not. But the anger from this, I wanted to. If anybody ever hurt you, Ness…”

Snuggling against him, I bury my face into Evan's hard chest. “Forget about it. Let’s not let someone like him spoil our time.”

He doesn’t reply, wraps an arm around my shoulder, and rubs my bare arm. “Sorry, it’s freezing out here.”

The garden is a pristine, white carpet of snow, reminding me of rare white Christmases from my childhood. The snow falls gently now, the odd flake lands around us as we shelter beneath the eaves.

Pulling away from Evan again, I tread across the snowy ground and lift my face up to catch a snowflake on my tongue. “I love the snow, especially at Christmas.”

Evan stays where he is. “This is fitting for our first Christmas”

“What is?”

“Snowflakes. They’re so small you don’t notice the difference they make until they gather into snow. Then, before you
realize they've transformed the world around into something bright and new.”

He walks over and wipes away the melted snow trickling down my face. “Like when I met you. All the little things about you gradually transformed my world into something brighter and better.”

His words fill the emptiness left by my encounter with Josh.

“How can you be so frustratingly poetic and so frustratingly sexy at the same time?”

He strokes my cheek. “Because I love you.”

The truth of Evan’s words shine back at me in his eyes. I don’t answer; instead, I wind my hand into his damp hair and lock my mouth on his. He winces as my cold nose pushes into his cheek. Cupping my face, we kiss as the snowflakes drift down around us. Lost in our strange white world of snow, and away from the world inside my house.

Chapter Twenty-Two

EVAN

Of all the places I’ve been today, this is the worst. In bed without Ness. Knowing she’s across the hallway is frustrating the hell out of me. The evening swirls around my mind as I lie here. Ness didn’t want to leave me alone, but I could tell she wanted to return to her Christmas Eve ritual. Josh had skulked off by the time we returned to the party, so I felt happy to leave her. Sort of. I’d rather she’d snuck upstairs with me, but I can understand why she’d be uncomfortable with sex if her parents aren’t far away.

The guest room they tucked me away in isn’t comfortable. I mean, yeah, the bed is soft, and the expensive bedding suffocating in warmth, but I don’t want to touch anything in case I spoil something valuable. I hang my clothes over a chair, then worry this isn’t right and move them to the wardrobe. Okay, so no one’s going to inspect me, but I just fee
l
od
d
.

We don’t have a spare room at my family home. Guests crash on the sofa and are happy to get the luxury. Usually.

My phone pokes out from under the hastily changed clothes from earlier, and in my semi-inebriated state, I check the screen. One eye only, as if that makes a missed call less likely to show. No Lucy call or text. Thank fuck for that, considering the night I’ve just had.

I drift to sleep, wishing with every ounce of my body Ness’s warm figure was laying snuggled against mine.

I wake again as light shines across the room, and the door silently opens, and then clicks softly closed. Seconds later, I hear clothing drop to the floor, and Ness creeps into bed.

As soon as her soft, naked breasts brush against me, my dick hardens as if someone has flicked a switch. “Ness…”

Ness giggles and licks from my chest to my face. Holy crap, she’s completely naked. And she knows that’s how I sleep.

I catch Ness’s face and hold her cheeks, studying her eyes. “Are you drunk?”

“Not much. But I’m sure as hell not sleeping on my own tonight.”

I make a mental note - champagne makes Ness horny - as I slide my hands along her naked body. “I thought we agreed no sexual relations?”

“Pfft. Right. Like you’d ever refuse.” Ness’s hair strokes my chest as she moves downwards, head disappearing under the covers.

“Fuck! Ness…don’t!”

The next giggle reverberates against my stomach as her soft lips move towards my dick. As her tongue slides along my length, I shift away from her, summoning as much self-control as I can manage to keep her from going any further.

Ness lifts her head up from beneath the sheets and pouts at me. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel odd,” I whisper.

Soft fingers stroke where she had her mouth, not helping matters. “You feel fine to me.”

This Ness is funny. I’ve met her a few times, on drunken adventures in Europe and the odd occasion in Leeds. The reserved middle-class girl talking dirty and telling me exactly how she wants it.

With willpower I never knew I had, I loosen her hand from me, knowing if this goes on much longer, I won’t want to say no anymore. I can’t do this in her parents’ guest room. Not when they’re down the hall. Ness huffs and moves upwards, hair spilling over my face, and breasts within tantalizing reach of my mouth. As I move towards them, Ness giggles again, shifts, then grabs my face and thrusts her tongue into my mouth. I’m gone. The frustration built from lying in bed thinking of her, and the horny-as-fuck girl practically pinning me down explodes into overwhelming lust for her.

Ness pulls away.

“I want you to fuck me, Evan.”

The words flood more blood downwards, as if that’s possible. “Don’t say that,” I breathe into her ear.

“Why?”

“Because you talking like this fucking turns me on!”

“Touch me.” She slides my hand between her legs, and the slickness removes the last part of self-control I have. Lips on hers, I groan into Ness’s mouth. The last thing I want are her parents hearing sex noises from the guest room.

Ness refuses to budge when I attempt to turn her over. She’s in control and this suits me. I slide my fingers inside her, and she moans bending towards me, her hands on the bed either side of my head. Her skin is impossibly soft, and the mingled fragrances of her shampoo, perfume, and sex switches off any remaining civilized part of my brain. In the dim light, we lock gazes.

She wriggles away from my fingers and grabs me, positioning my dick so the tip touches her wet centre. Ness’s hair tickles as she moves her face to my ear. “Fuck me.”

“Jesus! Ness.” I thrust into her and she sits back on me, holding my hips so I have to remain still.

“Shush!”

Ness runs her hands across my chest, and I trace mine along her back, luxuriating in the feeling of being inside her. Connected. Us. In a moment in time where nothing else exists apart from our bodies joined. This isn’t sex. This isn’t even making love. What passes between us may be promoted by her drunken need, but the moment we’re in solidifies one thought in my mind.

Ness is part of me.

I don’t think I could live my life without her.

The combination of pure lust and the intense emotion flowing through overwhelms me with the need to tell her how I feel. Ness
recognizes something in my eyes, because she moves forward, vanilla-scented hair washing over me as she sucks on my bottom lip until I part my mouth and allow her tongue in. I grab her hips and thrust, Ness moaning into my mouth, her breathing speeds towards orgasm. I like slow with Ness, teasing her, bringing her to the brink, then stopping. But sometimes, this frantic, dirty sex is perfect.

Chapter Twenty-Three

EVAN

Ness stayed with me, fitting into the perfect space against my chest as she does in my life, and we fell asleep. She's gone when I wake up the next morning, adding more fun to the illicitness of the night before. I stretch out, the buzz of the night before running through me still.

Christmas Day.

Before we came to her parents’ house, Ness gave me a run down on the Armstrong Christmas Day traditions and my head spun. The whole day sounds like a precise military operation. Jeez, I even need to get dressed up again. No slouching on the sofa with a Christmas hat on my head and a beer in hand for me today. I hope there’s enough alcohol to get me through today.

I shower and dress in jeans and T-shirt before looking for Ness. I find her in the kitchen wearing the pajamas which were on my bedroom floor last night. Dark rings sit beneath her eyes, and her hair is sex tousled. She sips coffee, and my body flares at the images from last night snapping back into my mind.

“Morning, butterfly girl.” I can’t help the smile creeping across my face.

“I drank too much,” she says quietly.

“Hmm. I noticed.”

Ness meets my knowing look and bites her lip to fight a smile. She’s on a stool, elbows resting on the kitchen bench, holding a mug of coffee. I sit next to Ness and stroke her cheek.

“I wish you’d been there when I woke up.”

“I didn’t want to get caught sneaking out,” she whispers.

“Can I have my good morning kiss, then?” I ask, separating some of her tangled hair with my fingers.

“How about a Happy Christmas kiss instead?” Ness places her soft lips on mine, pulling my mind back to last night. “Our first Christmas together…”

I don’t a hundred percent get why this is such a big deal to Ness. Maybe my extended family’s lack of interest or Christmas tradition makes the day ordinary to me. I remember last Christmas, not long after we first started dating, Ness childlike in her excitement to go home. I wasn’t invited last year, which irritated me a little, but things were new between us then.

This year, I have no choice in the matter. Ness made the decision, and the excitement in her face when she explained all the fun we were going to have stopped me from saying I wasn’t sure about going with her. Spending time in her alien world terrifies me, especially after Ness's parents inadvertently got involved with Lucy’s incident last year. The working-class Northerner with the mad sister – just who you don’t want your beautiful, clever daughter involved with.

But I have been welcomed, and her parents are attempting to make me feel at home. And if Christmas is so important to Ness, her wanting me here is important too.

“So, where’s the timetable then?” I ask.

“Timetable?”

“Of events.”

She groans and pokes me. “Ha ha.”

“Okay, so are you going to come back upstairs and tell me what I need to wear?” I ask her, lowering my voice.

Ness ignores the implication. “Sure, I have the jumper picked out.”

“Jumper?” I frown at her.

“Oh! Sorry, I forgot to mention…everyone has to wear a Christmas-themed jumper.”

I narrow my eyes, but Ness’s face is straight and I believe her. “Christmas-themed?”

“I think you’re more of a Santa than a reindeer type; the red will suit you better.”

There it is, the tiny hint of a smile she’s attempting to control. Is she taking the piss? “And what jumper are you wearing?”

“Only the men wear them. They’re passed down through the generations. I’ll go and find one. Wait here.” I open my mouth to respond, positive she's winding me up now. “Help yourself to breakfast.”

Unsure what to make of this, I remain on the stool and pour myself some juice. The snow from last night has settled, thick on the ground in Ness’s picture postcard village. The family's black Labrador wanders in and sniffs me, wagging his tail. I tense as I hear footsteps on the stairs, in case her mum or dad come in while I’m on my own. And if it is one of them, whether they heard anything last night.

Ness reappears in the door, eyes glinting, and holding a bunched up
woolen jumper. A red one with a pattern I can’t make out. She holds up the voluminous item, and to my horror, she’s telling the truth. Knitted into the pattern is a huge, jolly Santa face with a Christmas tree border.

“You’re serious?” I say.

Stepping forward, Ness hands the jumper to me. “Put this on.”

“Seriously?”

Ness’s dad walks into the kitchen and eyes us curiously. “Morning you two, and happy Christmas!”

I leap back from Ness even though I’m not touching her, because it seems inappropriate to get too close. Ness sniggers and shifts towards me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Why have you got that out?” he asks.

“Evan’s cold and doesn’t have a jumper.” The sideways glance and barely contained amusement makes me want to grab her. She knows I can’t.

“I’m not! You said there was a tradition.”

Ness’s dad laughs. “That’s mean, Nessie.”

“Yes
,
Nessie
.
”

Her face falls, and Ness’s dad winks at me; I’m thankful we’re colluding and love the ammunition he just gave me. “Dad!”

“I’m sure Evan feels uncomfortable enough around us without you making things worse.” He shakes his head and walks to the coffee machine.

In a weird way, her joke has helped, because I now know her dad is okay with me. Last night, guests preoccupied him and he didn’t say much to me. I get the feeling he’s an important person in the village. He’s tall with greying hair, and has a presence that mixes aloof with friendly, which must be hard to pull off. Maybe it’s a doctor thing.

Ness giggles and rubs the back of her hand along my face. “I’d better get dressed. And so should you. You need a shave.” She drapes the jumper over my shoulder and hightails it out of the kitchen.

***

NESS

I feel rough. Really rough. I lost count of the glasses of champagne I had last night. I’m not a big drinker, but champagne is the one drink I like that flows down too easily. Clear memories of dickhead-Josh combine with hazier memories of creeping into the guest room to see Evan. I woke up in bed with him, and as memories of how I got there and what we did filtered through, I groaned. Not because I’m embarrassed about what I did, but because we could’ve got caught and ruined any chance of mum and dad liking him. I doubt they’d believe their drunken, sex-crazed daughter instigated the episode.

Seeing Evan uncomfortable in the kitchen warms me to him further. He’s doing this for me, and whatever he told me, I know he didn’t want to do this. Evan wanted to stay in Leeds, just the two of us.

I’m eager to show Evan around the village and leave my stressed mother to her Christmas dinner preparations. So, with Sam the Labrador in tow, we set off towards the village. I reckon I live in the best part of England for white Christmases. I know tourists love the picturesque Cotswold cottages when they’re transformed into cozy Christmas hideaways, the small shops selling traditional English Christmas fare adding to the vibe. The village is quieter because it’s Christmas Day, adding to the peace and happiness of sharing the time with Evan. We follow the winding village streets and rows of snow-covered roofs towards Sam’s favorite field. Sam trots along, wagging his tail, pulling me in the direction he wants to go. He keeps jumping up and licking Evan’s face, who looks genuinely grossed out.

“At least one of your family likes me,” he says, wiping dog drool from his face.

“They do like you.”

“They haven’t got to know me yet.” He pulls my
woolen hat over my ears.

I stop and put a gloved hand on his cheek. “They do like you. And if for some mad reason they decided they didn’t, I don’t care.”

I punctuate my sentence with a kiss on his cool lips.

Evan draws me into him and shoves his hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “So I want to swap Christmas presents with you later. Where is that on the schedule? Or can we find time to unwrap ours alone?”

He turns on his sexy smirk and suggestive tone, firing heat to warm my cold face. In return, I hold his face in gloved hands and rub my cool nose against him. “You got mine already. This morning.”

“This morning? You mean at one am? Even though we said no sexual relations...” He grips my hips tighter and his warm breath against my ear makes me squirm.

“Are you saying I’m a woman of loose morals?” I reply with mock horror, and push him in the chest.

Evan pulls an equally mock face of hurt and steps back. “What? I like you being a woman of loose morals.”

“By this morning, I meant the jumper. And I’m really sad you didn’t wear it!” I put my hands on my hips and pout.

“Embarrassing me in front of your dad!”

When I laugh at him, Evan bends down and picks up snow. Before I realize what he’s doing, a snowball hits my chest.

“You big kid!” I shout, and bend down to grab some snow of my own.

The next few minutes are spent dodging each other’s snowballs, although Evan’s a better shot than me, and definitely looks less of a snowman than I do by the end. Sam barks and leaps around, grabbing at ankles and pawing at us. The childish moment between us turns life as bright as the winter sun shining on the snow.

“Stop!” I cry through my laughter, holding my hands in defeat.

Evan pauses, snowball in his gloved hand. “You surrender?”

“You win.”

“Oh good. Do I get to choose a prize?” The glint returns to his eyes, and his reddened cheeks glow beneath his snow covered hair.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Nope.”

Evan approaches, snow in hand.

“Put the snowball down!” I demand.

Tossing the snowball against a nearby tree, Evan wraps me in his arms. “I only want a kiss.” I peck his cheek. “You can do better than that...”

Slowly, I lick my lips and laugh as he leans forward to pull my bottom lip into his mouth. His tongue flicks against mine, and he catches me in a kiss filled with fire to melt the cold. Completely focused on the moment, Evan doesn’t notice I still have a snowball. Not until I shove the cold snow down his neck.

Evan drops his hands and pulls at his coat. “Ness!” The look of surprise on his face is worth the snowy assault I know is coming.

Giggling, I charge across the field with Sam and Evan in pursuit. Evan soon catches me and tackles me to the ground, the pair of us landing in the soft snowdrift. Evan pulls my hat off and fills it with snow.

“No!” I protest.

“A proper kiss with no tricks this time, or this goes on your head,” he says, and moves his face to mine.

Evan’s hair is soaked with snow and dripping down his face, so I remove my glove and wipe his face with a finger. “Kiss me then, poetry boy.”

Evan grabs my hand and sucks the water from my finger. “Sure thing, butterfly girl.”

His lips are cold as they meet mine, but his kiss is warm and tender. We lie in the snow, but I could equally be on a sunny beach, in bed, or even in the middle of the road, because the instance we’re caught in wipes the whole world from around us.