Sixteen? Red hair? The flashing list of names in his head suddenly flipped back over a decade and landed on one he hadn’t thought about in years. One he’d purposely tried to block out. No, couldn’t be. “Evangeline?”
She shrugged and looked out at the water, the wind whipping her hair around and disguising her expression. “It’s Evan now. I stopped using my full name a long time ago.”
“Wow, I don’t even know what to say,” he said, shaking his head. “You look great. I’m so glad to see that you’re . . .” Okay. Alive. “Here.”
She turned back toward him and smiled, though it didn’t light her face the way the earlier smiles had. “It’s good to see you, too. But, if you don’t mind, before we go down memory lane, how ’bout that vinegar?”
“Oh, right,” he said, his mind still whirling. “Follow me.”
And she needn’t worry. The last thing he was going to do was initiate any reminiscing. No, some things were better left buried. And how he’d destroyed the girl he’d sworn to look out for was A-number-one on that list.
Evan leaned against the back of the couch in Jace’s hotel suite and clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking. She’d thought about Jace so often over the years, despite her best efforts not to. She had wondered how he was doing, but she’d never allowed herself to look him up and check. She’d been a coward—afraid of how she’d react seeing him all grown up, possibly with a wife and kids or something.
When she was a teenager, Jace had been the perfect boy in her eyes. The only guy who’d been able to make her smile during those dark years. She’d stupidly assumed his attention had meant more than simple friendship, more than pity for a screwed-up foster kid. But God, how wrong she’d been. Of all the disastrous mistakes she’d made in her life, falling for Jace had been her biggest. She’d paid dearly for that error—still paid for it—but he would never know that.
And now he’d seen her moping alone on the beach and going skinny-dipping drunk. Stellar. If she’d wanted to show him how far she’d come, how put together she was now, she’d certainly gotten off to a shining start.
“I’m going to go grab the vinegar from Andre’s room,” Jace said, pulling her from her thoughts. “Why don’t you go in the bathroom and unwrap your leg? I’ll bring you the bottle.”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, proud her voice was steady despite her jangled nerves.
She made her way to the restroom and sat on the edge of the tub, arranging the towel to cover her lap. The burn of the jellyfish sting had lessened a bit from its five-alarm status, but still made it hard to sit still. Or maybe it was the fact that Jace was here that had her ready to jump out of her skin. Even after all these years, simply being near him had her stomach doing silly flip-flops. She needed to get it together.
She unwrapped the makeshift bandage and laid it over the edge of the tub right as Jace poked his head into the bathroom. “How’s it looking, Ev?”
The affection lacing her old nickname poked at something she’d long since buried. She forced a casual shrug. “Looks like I got in a fight with a jellyfish and lost.”
“Here.” He stepped inside and the room seemed to shrink as his tall, still shirtless frame filled up the space. He squatted next to her and uncapped the bottle of vinegar. “This should neutralize the sting. Might be a little cold.”
She winced when he poured the liquid over her thigh, but despite the shock of the contrast in temperature, the sting started to ease. “Ooh, that’s better.”
His hand cupped her knee and he ran a thumb over the curve of it, causing her breath to hitch. He glanced up from his crouched position, his eyes seeming to see right through her this-is-no-big-thing façade she was working so hard to maintain. “You okay, Ev?”
She could tell by the somberness of his expression, the edge of concern in his voice that he wasn’t asking about the sting. The combination of his touch and the sentiment almost undid her, almost brought forth the tears she’d hadn’t cried in a decade. She looked back at her leg. “I’m fine, Jace. Really.”
He blew out a breath and stood. “Pat your leg dry. I’ll be right back.”
A few seconds later, he returned—thankfully with a shirt on. God knows she was having enough trouble concentrating around him without the added distraction of his bare chest. He tossed a ball of blue fabric to her.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s a pair of track shorts you can use. They’ll be big, but hopefully the drawstring will help. You’re not going to want to put your jeans back on over that sting.”
“Oh, right. Thanks.” She stared down at the shorts.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, why don’t you go ahead and get changed. I’ll be in the living room.”
He’d already seen her in her underwear on the beach, but she knew why he was giving her privacy. Now that they knew who each other was, the wall of the past was firmly erected between them. There would be no more lighthearted flirting. Certainly not from her end.
Regardless, she appreciated the few minutes of alone time. It gave her time to regroup, pull her shoulders back, and slip back into the woman she was now—instead of the teenager she’d regressed to as soon as Jace had appeared.
When she stepped back into the living room, Jace was leaning over the small refrigerator, clanging bottles around as he searched for something. He glanced up from his task when she cleared her throat and sat on the couch.
“I was trying to see if we had any soda, but it looks like all we have is beer and water.”
She smirked. “I think I’ve had enough alcohol tonight. Plus, I need to get back to my room.”
A squeak from the other side of the room caught her attention. She turned her head just as one of the bedroom doors swung open on whining hinges. A drowsy-eyed man wearing only plaid pajama bottoms filled the doorway and leaned against the doorframe. “J, what the fuck are you doing in here? I’m trying to sleep.”
Jace frowned in the man’s direction. “Watch the language, Andre. We’ve got company.”
Jace’s roommate turned his head, his dark eyebrows lifting when he spotted her. “Oh.” His gaze traveled down the length of her, pausing at the borrowed shorts, and a sleepy smile crossed his face. “Well, hi there.”
Evan heated beneath Andre’s attention, the hint of Spanish accent and the flare of interest in his eyes singeing her. No worries about the two gorgeous men in the room being gay. That was for damn sure.
Jace snorted. “Back off, Romeo. Evan’s an old friend of mine and is only here because she has a wicked jellyfish sting. So you can dial down the flirt.”
“Wait a second.” Andre scrubbed a hand over his face and stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as if evaluating her closer. “Evan? As in Evan Kennedy?”
“No, Evan Litch—” Jace began, but she interrupted.
“Yes, Evan Kennedy.” She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Andre sauntered forward and took her hand, bringing it to his mouth and planting a kiss on top of it instead of shaking it. “Pleasure.”
Jace walked up behind him, his brows knitted together. “You changed your name? Why does your new one sound so familiar?”
Andre laughed and sank into the armchair next to her. She would’ve answered Jace, but she had a hard time drawing her attention away from Andre’s lean, tan chest and the silver nipple rings glinting in the lamp light. Oh, my. Not to mention Jace’s well-built form in her peripheral vision. Man, she was like a starved