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Authors: Sarah Morgan

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BOOK: Sunset In Central Park
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“It’s scary, Matt.”

“Scary? When we’re working on the roof terrace, eating dinner alone together or with our friends, enjoying a drink, making breakfast, having sex—does any of that feel scary?” His blunt challenge made her feel like a coward.

“No, but—”

“Is that what you’re thinking of when we’re together? You’re lying there wondering when we’re going to break
up?” His voice was level but there was a distance that she hadn’t felt before, as if he was slipping away and she was powerless to stop it.

She’d never seen him like this. Never heard him use this tone.

“All I’m saying is that relationships end all the time. It’s a fact of life.”

“Yes, it is. Which makes it all the more important to pick the right person. You’re the right person for me, Frankie, but only if I’m the right person for you. I don’t know what your mother said to you, but I do know that as long as you listen to her, and keep focused on what happened all those years ago instead of paying attention to your own feelings and what’s happening now, this is never going to work.”

Never going to work? Oh
God

She couldn’t breathe.

“Wait—stop. Are you breaking up with me?”

“No.” He sounded weary. “I think you’re the one breaking up with me.”

Claws stalked through the apartment, swishing her tail, but for once neither of them took any notice.

“I’m not! All I’m saying is—” She broke off and his gaze locked on hers.

“All you’re saying is that you don’t trust me. Not enough. You don’t trust us, or what we have. Maybe this was a fling to you, a way of discovering your sexuality, but it was more than that for me. Yes, the sex is off the scale but I’m not interested in a fling, Frankie. Not with you. I want the whole thing, thick and thin, richer and poorer, sickness and health, but only if you one hundred percent trust in what we have. I’ve seen my parents weather rough times, and they’ve done
it because they trusted each other and in their love, and neither one of them was ever going to give up on that.”

“I don’t know if you’re breaking up or proposing.”

“Neither. I’m asking you to think about what we have and what you want. Because I don’t want to be in a relationship where one of us doubts the other. That doesn’t work for me.” He reached for his phone and his keys and she felt an acute stab of panic.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk, and then I’m going to the workshop.”

“It’s Sunday.” And they’d planned on having a lazy morning followed by a long walk in Central Park. She’d been looking forward to it.

“I know what day it is.” He paused for a moment and rubbed his fingers over his forehead, as if he was trying to ease an enormous pressure. “We lost a couple of days because of Roxy, so I need to catch up, and—I need some space.”

“From me?”

“I’m not made of stone, Frankie. I have feelings, too. I care about you. I care about
us
, and the fact that you don’t want the same thing—” He broke off and then shook his head. “I’ll see you later.”

She’d never seen him this upset. The emotion visible in his eyes was raw, real and almost too painful to watch. And even more painful was the knowledge that she was the cause.

Feeling sick, Frankie opened her mouth to speak, to stop him leaving, but Matt left the apartment without looking back.

“Matt? Wait.”

Realizing that someone was yelling at him, Matt turned
and saw Eva sprinting toward him. Her hair flew around her shoulders and she was wearing flip-flops on her feet.

The last thing he wanted right now was company, but he stopped and waited for her to catch up with him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. At least not with me.” She was breathless and her hair was messy.

“Your T-shirt is on inside out. You look as if you just got out of bed.”

“That’s because I did.” She tugged at it self-consciously. “Ten minutes ago I was asleep.”

“What woke you?”

“Frankie, banging on my door.”

He tensed. “Look, I understand you’re worried about your friend, but I can’t talk about this right now, Ev.”

“I’m not here because I’m worried about Frankie. I’m here because I’m worried about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” She grabbed his hand. “Let’s go to the park. It’s lovely at this hour.”

His chest ached, but he didn’t want her to know how bad he was feeling so he forced himself to tease her. “How would you know? You hardly ever see this hour?”

“True. So let’s go and see if the rumors are true. I’ll buy you coffee and we can talk.”

He didn’t want to talk, but he couldn’t think of a way of telling her that wouldn’t offend her so he gave in and walked with her along the street toward the park.

It was a slow Sunday morning and the neighborhood was just waking up. They strolled past family-owned stores brimming with fresh produce, and Eva dragged him into
Petit Pain, the artisan bakery that also sold the best coffee in the area.

“Here.” She handed him a tall coffee and a bag containing a still-warm pastry. “Let’s go and find a comfortable bench to sit on.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Never argue with a woman who’s just woken up.”

He gave up arguing and they walked in silence until they reached the park.

It was still relatively quiet, with only a few families with young children already in evidence. Matt pushed open the gate and then paused, his fingers digging into the smooth wood. “Was she upset?”

Eva nudged him through the gate toward the nearest seat. She didn’t ask who he was talking about. “Yes, but so are you.”

Upset? His gut twisted. His feelings were more complicated than that. He felt sad and sore, as if his emotions had been dragged across a rough surface. “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing. She asked if she could stay in Paige’s room for a while. Then shut the door on me, which is what she does when her mother gets in touch.” She sipped her coffee and watched the squirrels playing on the grass. “Roxy texted me and told me her mom showed up in person, so I don’t need to know much more than that. Her mom messes with her head.”

“I know, but I was hoping we’d moved past that.” And that was the other emotion he was feeling. Bone-deep disappointment. He’d truly believed her feelings for him were strong enough to overcome her reservations about relationships.

“I was hoping so, too. If she messes this up I will kill her.”

“Messes what up?”

“Your relationship. In fact, I’m so stressed I need to eat half your pastry.” She reached across and took the bag from his hand.

“You should have bought one for yourself.”

“I’m on a diet. If I steal yours it doesn’t count.” She broke off a piece and ate it, sugar dusting her lips. “That’s
so
good. You’re right. I should have bought myself one. Or five.”

“So what are we doing here, Ev? Did you want to give me wise advice?”

She licked the tips of her fingers. “You’re talking to a woman who hasn’t had sex in—oh—” she counted on her fingers and then shrugged “—more time than I’m prepared to admit, so I’m not in a position to dish out advice. I’m here because you’re sad, and sometimes when I’m sad it helps to have company.” Something in her voice made him glance at her.

“Are you sad, honey?”

She stared intently at the bag in her hand. “We were talking about you.”

“Well, now we’re talking about you.”

She reached into the bag and broke off another piece of pastry. “Sometimes. There are days when I’m okay, and other days when I’m so lonely it feels as if I’m the only person on the planet. What is wrong with me, Matt? Why can’t I meet someone special?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He looped his arm around her shoulders, trying to push his own pain to one side so that he could focus on hers. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

“I live in this amazing city, surrounded by all these people
and I’m on my own. That’s sad, but what makes me even sadder is that you’ve met the right person and it still isn’t working out.”

“Some things aren’t meant to work out.”

“This shouldn’t be one of those things.”

“If you have any words of wisdom, I’m listening.”

She handed the bag back to him. “I don’t have words of wisdom. Just a shoulder for you to lean on. And coffee and calories.”

He smiled, touched. “You’re a generous person, Ev. And a good friend. Somewhere out there in Manhattan there is a hot guy waiting for you.”

“I’m glad you mentioned the
hot
part.” She peeled the top off her coffee and blew on it. “I definitely deserve someone superhot.”

“You do.”

“With great abs.”

“Great abs are important.”

She sipped her coffee. “Good shoulders would be nice, too.”

“Shoulders.” He nodded. “Anything else?”

“Stamina, because I haven’t had sex in a
long
time.”

Matt hadn’t thought he was capable of smiling right now, but he found himself smiling. “Stamina. Is that it?”

“He has to not mind that I still have the stuffed kangaroo Grams gave me when I was five.”

“So he needs to be either visually impaired, CEO of a soft toy company or tolerant.”

“And he needs to be kind,” Eva said softly. “I don’t want a player who is going to break my heart. I’ve cried a lot this year since—well, you know. My New Year’s resolution is not to cry once.”

“It’s only September.”

“Which means I have a little over three months to get my crying done. Then that’s it. Oh, and I bought a new condom to replace the one that expired, so I need to use that before it goes out of date like the last one. Because I’m a person who hates waste.”

“Naturally. It’s the eco-friendly thing to do.” He stirred. “Just the one condom?”

“That’s all I carry. And I probably won’t even need that one. I have so much love to give,” she said gloomily, “and no one wants it.”

“Some lucky guy is going to want it.”

She roused herself and nudged him in the ribs. “He’ll probably use my condom and then leave me with a broken heart.”

“If anyone breaks your heart, Jake and I will take him down.” He lifted his arm away from her shoulder and finished his coffee. “You deserve someone special.”

“Trouble is we don’t always get what we deserve.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I love you, Matt. You’re the brother I never had.” She said it easily, wearing her emotions as comfortably and effortlessly as she wore her clothes. There was no embarrassment. No awkwardness. No qualification. Just Eva, whose heart was big enough to fill the whole of Manhattan.

“I love you, too, honey.”

“When you hurt, I hurt.”

“I’ll survive. I’m big and strong.”

“I know you’re big and strong, and I know you’ll survive, but I want more than that for you. I want you to live happily ever after with Frankie.”

Thinking about it tore at him and the pain was made
worse by the fact that for a while he’d actually believed it was possible.

“You have a way of making things sound so simple.”

“When two people love each other, it should be simple.” She stared into her empty coffee cup. “It really should be simple.”

They watched the squirrels for a moment and Matt tried to pull himself together. He needed to talk about something other than Frankie. Think about something other than Frankie. He needed to stand up, put one foot in front of the other and go home. Or go to work. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life hiding out in the park. “It’s Christmas in three months. Have you started counting days and hours yet? Normally by now you’re telling me how many days it is.”

“I haven’t started counting this year.”

He glanced at her. “You love Christmas. You start planning Christmas in January.”

“I know. But it’s—” She broke off. “Last year, my first Christmas without Grams—it was awful. I’m dreading it, to be honest. Christmas is for families, and I don’t have family. I’m alone. Alone, alone, alone. I hate that word.”

“You’re not alone. You have us. We’re your family. Mom would love to see you for Thanksgiving if you’re free, and my parents are thinking of coming to New York for Christmas. We’ll probably spend the day with Maria, Jake and Paige.”

“That sounds good.” She was silent for a moment. “I’ll come if I’m not busy.”

“You have plans?”

“Yes. I plan not to spend another Christmas missing Gram and feeling sorry for myself. She’d be so ashamed of me.” She straightened her shoulders. “If Frankie can face
everyone on Puffin Island, I can face Christmas. I’m staying in New York City and I’m going to party.”

“Are you planning on partying with anyone in particular?”

“Yes. I will be partying with the hot guy that Santa is delivering for Christmas.”

“Will he be coming down the chimney? Because that might be a challenge.”

“I don’t care how he comes, or where he comes, as long as he comes.”

Matt grinned. “You’re a bad girl, Ev.”

“Not in a while, but I’m going to be.”

“You’d better not tell Santa that until after he has delivered your hot man. Bad girls don’t get gifts from Santa.”

“I’ll keep wearing my good girl disguise until the moment I get my man naked.”

“You’d better write to Santa pretty soon, then.”

“Already done. I thought it might take him a while to find the perfect guy.”

“With abs.”

“And shoulders.” She stretched out her legs and tilted her face to the sun. “He is going to sweep me off my feet and that will be that.”

“That will be what?”

“My happy ending. Right there.”

“Tied with a big red bow?”

“I prefer pink, but red would do.”

Frankie watched from the gate in the park feeling as if she was alone on a desert island, watching a ship sail away into the distance.

Matt and Eva sat close together talking. She saw the moment
Matt put his arm around Eva, and saw her lean her head on his shoulder.

Her throat felt thick and her eyes stung. Inside she felt raw and vulnerable.

She should be the one sitting with her head on Matt’s shoulder. And she would have been, if she wasn’t so stupid.

“Walk with me.” Paige’s voice came from behind her and Frankie turned to see her friend dressed in workout gear, her hair pulled into a ponytail.

BOOK: Sunset In Central Park
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