Second Down (Moving the Chains Book 2) (30 page)

That snaps me out of it pretty fucking quickly.

My eyes fly open, but hers are closed. Memories of the last time I saw her flat on her back assault me. I freeze, my breath coming out in rapid pants, every muscle in my body shaking in an effort not to crush her beneath me. It’s like an out of body experience. Suddenly, I’m not me. I’m him.

“Evie, I can’t.”  It takes everything in me to get out the words. I can’t breathe.

She looks up at me, a frown pulling down her kiss swollen lips, her brows creasing together. “He was on top of me, wasn’t he?”

I barely hear her words through the roaring of my pulse pounding in my ears. Through the full body assault of terror and emotion, my instinct is to pull away from her as quickly as possible. I push that need away. That last thing I want to do is reinforce her belief that I don’t want her.

I don’t want to hurt her.

Nodding my head while squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I slowly and gently climb off her tiny body. I’m still trembling, as I sit dumbly in my previous spot and stare out into space. What the fuck was that?

Slowly, I become conscious that Evie is sitting behind me, wrapping herself around me and rocking us back and forth in a soothing motion. “It’s ok,” she murmurs on repeat.

I bury my face in my hands, unable to stop the torrent of tears. “I’m so sorry, Evie. I tried. I, I just...can’t.”

I don’t know what else to say to her. God, is this always the way it’s going to be with us? Cathy said to give it time, to be patient. How much more fucking patience can I expect this beautiful woman to have with me? Christ, she was the one that was attacked, not me. Yet, she still trusts me enough not to hurt her. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

CJ’s words from that night in the parking lot come back to me.
“She deserves a real man.”

Yeah, she does. And I am definitely not.

Dad always told me I was too sensitive. Told me I needed to stop spending so much time with Mom because she was turning me into a girl. Maybe that’s what has finally happened. I’ve let all the rumors about mine and Evie’s sex life go unanswered and uncorrected. Afraid that the guys will lose all respect for me if they find out I’m not banging my seriously hot girlfriend. How much worse would it be if they found out I haven’t jerked off in months? Haven’t had anything other than an involuntary hard-on? They used to call me a pussy. Until Evie and I finally got together. Holy shit, if they could see me now. Crying my eyes out like a baby, while my girlfriend holds me. This is some seriously fucked up shit.

I feel like it’s never going to end.

I swear this tie has a mind of its own and is trying to choke me. Tugging at it does no good. The second I release it, the damn thing just cuts off my air supply once more. Evie’s little cousin is staring up at me, making me even more uncomfortable. She insisted on sitting in my lap during the service, and I just didn’t have the heart to tell her no.

She thinks I’m a prince.

Apparently, Evie’s aunt decided that was the best way to explain the attack to her young kids. I no sooner walked through the door earlier this evening than I was accosted by two little girls.

“Are you really a prince?”

“Did you save our Evie from a monster?”

“Where’s your sword?”

“Weren’t you scared?”

They have no idea.

Evie was nowhere in sight, but one of her older cousins broke up the little party. It only got worse from there. Lexi, as she introduced herself, sized me up in much the same way that Tini did when I first entered their home. Only she was ten times worse. She winked at me, pushed my two little admirers out of the way and draped herself across my arm. Horny five year old style.

“You must be Rob. Christina told me you were handsome, but her description really didn’t do you justice. I have to say, I’ve got a thing for a hot man in a suit. Why are you with Eva?”

Pretty sure my eyes popped out of my head and steam came out of my ears. As the night wore on, I began to get a very clear picture of exactly where Evie’s poor self-esteem comes from. Kind of hard to realize just how beautiful, smart, and talented you are when your own family is constantly making snide jabs that you’re not good enough.

By the time we all piled into cars to head over to the Church, I was fuming. I’d always been jealous of my friends who have large families. Not this time. Evie seemed to take it all in stride, probably being used to it from years of experience. It took everything in me not to make a scene, sometimes. The idea that I wanted to make a good impression on these people was laughable. I’m not even sure how they’re related to the loving family who lives in that house. It was like two different families trying to merge into one.

In short, the extended Papageorgiou clan are a bunch of pretentious assholes.

Evie made it a point to school me on everything that I could expect at Liturgy on the ride over. She reminded me repeatedly that I couldn’t take Communion. I just smiled and held her hand.

I didn’t bother telling her that I’d spent half the night researching all this stuff on the internet, since I couldn’t sleep, anyway. Or that I was nervous about embarrassing myself in front of her family.

I feel a tug on my tie, but I’m not the one doing it this time. Looking down at the little girl in my lap, she just peers up at me with a grin on her face.

“Papouli says we’re supposta pay ‘tention in Church.”

Yep, I just got busted for zoning out by a four year old. “Sorry Staci. It won’t happen again.”

It feels like we’ve been here forever. I can’t follow along because most of the service has been in Greek. The music and chanting are beautiful, but meaningless. I’m not even sure how the kid on my lap isn’t passed out, yet. It’s gotta be well after midnight. Staci’s little sister, Maria, is sound asleep. She’s using my free leg as her pillow.

They’ve both been attached to me, literally, all night. I would say it’s cute, but every time one of them mentions the whole fairy tale they’ve been fed about what happened to Evie, the level of awkwardness skyrockets. As if things aren’t strained enough between us since my breakdown yesterday.

Papou leans into me and whispers into my ear, “It is time for Communion. I do not want to wake Maria, so you can stay with her.”

He squeezes my shoulder while prying Staci out of my arms. She doesn’t go willingly. Everyone in the Church stands up. Feeling the need to fit in, I pull Maria into my arms and get to my feet. She feels like a baby doll. I mean, the kid weighs absolutely nothing. It was enough jostling to wake her, though. She looks up at me, confused at first. When recognition sets in, she smiles and lays her head down on my shoulder. Is it wrong that I kind of love that? She’s so cute and...little.

Yep. Ma has definitely turned me into a girl.

The sound of the sweetest voice in the world floating through the air draws my attention to the choir loft. Evie hasn’t been sitting with us during service. Papou and YiaYia have been going on all night about her big solo. Diana confessed that’s why they wanted me here tonight. Sad part is, anytime it was mentioned, an aunt, uncle, or cousin would immediately downplay her talent. Her Aunt Cara actually said the only reason Evie got the part was because no one else wanted to do it. I kind of wanted to hit that woman.

Maria perks up in my arms, her mouth agape as she stares at the lone figure standing at the edge of the balcony. I can’t blame her. Evie is a vision. Her ebony hair falls all around her face and shoulders in loose curls. She looks relaxed and peaceful as she sings. Her expression ethereal. She’s only visible from the waist up, but the white silk top she’s wearing, combined with the low lights, lend her an angelic quality. The beautiful sound flowing from her mouth surely surpassing anything in Heaven.

“Evie not a pwincess. She a angel.”  Maria whispers, enthralled.

“Yeah,” I respond softly. “She is.”

I don’t understand the Greek words that she’s singing. Doesn’t matter. She’s the Pied Piper and I’m the helpless child. Completely and utterly under her spell.

Greeks are straight up party animals. Liturgy went on for what felt like an eternity. It’s after two in the morning. I’m making my way downstairs to the Church hall with a sleeping girl in each arm. Apparently, we’re going to eat, now. An
Agape
meal, Evie calls it. I’m so freaking tired, but Evie seems excited that I’m going to get my first taste of lamb. I try not to think about the lamb dinner I missed at her house, but the bitter thought creeps in, anyway.

Papou guides me to a chair. I gratefully sink into it and consider closing my eyes for a few minutes. If Staci and Maria can sleep, why can’t I?

Evie glides her nails along my scalp. “I’ll bring you back a plate,” she whispers in my ear, before flitting off.

That’s it. Eyes rolled in back of head. Can’t fight it, anymore.

I’m pretty sure that if Evie ever ran her fingers through my hair while singing to me, I’d experience spontaneous human combustion. That much zen is dangerous. Masochist that I am, I kind of want to test my theory. It’d be one hell of a Christmas present, that’s for sure.

The state between sleep and wakefulness is a tricky bitch. Still aware enough to hear things going on around you, but not able to react or care. The munchkins on my shoulders make for surprisingly comfy pillows. There’s a lot of Greek being thrown around me that I can’t translate. I’ve only learned how to say basics like hello, thank you, please, you’re welcome, goodbye. That kind of stuff. Oh, and Merry Christmas.
Kala Christougenna
.

Occasionally, some English makes its way to my ears. Phrases like ‘marrying man, lucky girls, Efflekia’s boyfriend, the hero, big boy, scholarship to State’ swim through my brain. I’m too tired to make sense of any of it.

I’m vaguely aware that people must be staring at the dumb jock holding two kids and sleeping right along with them. I’m a stranger, here. Except I’m not. They all know me from football. I just don’t fit in with them. It’s like some kind of distorted flashback to freshman year of high school. Evie’s immediate family has done everything to make me feel welcome and included. Her extended family...well, I don’t care what in the hell they do, anymore. Except the small ones. They’re growing on me.

One of said small things is lifted out of my arms. Cracking an eye open, I see Papou hoisting Maria into his lap in the seat next to me. He puts her on his shoulder and begins eating with one hand. That’s a neat trick.

No sooner is Evie setting a plate full of food in front of me than Staci is being wrenched from my grip by Diana. “Eat,” she says quietly, shifting the kid onto her shoulder.

I expect Evie to sit in the empty chair beside me with her own plate, but she just moves several seats down, takes the fussing infant from her youngest aunt’s arms and whispers in her ear. I can’t make out what she’s saying, but Aunt Eleni gives Evie a grateful look and hurries to get in the food line.

Normally, I would start chowing down. I’m just so fucking tired. It smells so damn good, but I don’t even care. I’m also mindful of the way Evie always says I eat like a pig. Can’t do that, here.

My eyes are drawn like magnets to my girlfriend who is slowly approaching with a tiny bundle of flailing limbs tucked securely against her chest.

When I raise an eyebrow in question at the wailing baby, Evie simply smiles softly at me. “Thea never gets to eat a hot meal.”

Oh, that’s another word in Greek I know. Thea means aunt.

That’s the only explanation I get as she continues her strange, hypnotic dance across the floor. In spite of the way these people treat her, she’s still willing to selflessly forego her own comfort. It’s mind boggling, really. As if I weren’t in awe of her enough after that performance during Liturgy. Evie really is an angel.

The tiny human in her arms eventually succumbs to her magic, stilling and seeming to fall asleep. Evie never relents, continuing to bounce as she walks along. She moves up and down the aisles with ease, nodding and smiling to the people who speak with her. Unlike earlier at her own house, she’s completely in her element, now. Several times, she blushes and her eyes lock with mine. I know whomever she’s speaking with is either asking or commenting about my presence here, tonight. The subtle smile on Evie’s face is all the answer I need on how she feels about it.

Watching as she makes her rounds with the baby snug against her is like looking at a snapshot of a possible future. A future that is attainable. If only I can get my shit together.

Baby Nicky looks nothing like a mini-Evie. Nothing like the black-haired, blue-eyed babies in my dreams. But, he’s close enough. His downy hair is the same color as Evie’s. When they’re open, his eyes are brown. He’s only four months old. If I thought Maria was small, I can’t even imagine holding him. He’s downright tiny. Breakable. Evie manages the baby like a boss. She flinched yesterday when I barely touched her breasts, but she holds him against them now like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Is it wrong for me to be jealous of an infant?

Cuz I am.

Her feet must be killing her. She has on these really high heels that make her legs look like a million bucks. In another life, I would be imagining licking them, right now. Instead, I think about how she always complains when she has to dress up for something, saying that heels hurt her after too long. I’d love nothing more than to pry them off her slender feet and massage her soles in my hands, just like that afternoon in the library so long ago.