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Leaning forward in his chair, John pinned him with a serious look. “Then take your head out of your ass and go and get what you’ve always wanted—whatyou deserve.”
12
Buzz,buzzzzzzzzz, buzz.
Evangeline stirred at the sounds of her doorbell ringing. Fuck, what time was it?
Bang, bang, bang.
“Sorry, Mrs. Crocker,” she yelled, sliding out of bed. She pushed the button on her intercom. “The door’s open,” she said, knowing it was Max coming to pick her up for their run.
Padding back through to her room, she got changed, putting her hair up in a bun at the top of her head. Max was just letting himself in as she strolled out, her shoes dangling from her hand.
“I hate you,” she said, sitting on her couch to put her shoes on.
Max only grinned. “You love me. Besides, exercise is good to help manage your stress levels.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, tying up her shoes and standing up. “Let’s go.”
Outside her building, she took a moment to stretch her hamstrings while Max looked on in mild amusement.
“Getting a bit serious there, boss.”
“You’ll regret not stretching,” she shot back with a smile. Beau let her set the pace this time, and she made him really regret that decision. Like before, he lagged behind so much that she had to stop and let him catch up.
When he came to a stop, puffing, he asked, “What happened with that guy, the ex? Did you talk to him?”
“I did.”
“I take it by your tone that the talk didn’t go well.”
She sat down on a nearby park bench. “Look, I got the answers I was looking for, but I…” She hesitated.
“You don’t want to get hurt again.”
Max had read her thoughts, although she was sure it’d been pretty obvious. “I don’t. What happened with Beau changed how I view relationships and people in general.”
“Huh.”
“What?” Evangeline asked.
Grinning, he said, “I knew that ice-queen routine was a front.”
“Self-preservation at its finest,” she murmured. “And if you tell anyone this, I’ll fucking gut you.”
Throwing his head back, Max laughed. “I’ll take your secret to the grave.”
* * *
Later,Evangeline walked quickly to the bar, dying to get out of the heat of the day. It was rounding midday, and every suit, Botoxed bimbo, and unlucky bastard trying their luck at living the Hollywood dream was out, clogging up the sidewalks. Slipping between two businessmen—both on their phones—she kept weaving in and out of the crowd, finally arriving at the club. She pulled the keys from her pocket just as someone bumped into her, sending them flying out of her hand.
The guy didn’t stop.
“Way to go, jackass,” she said under her breath. Crouching down, she swiped the keys off the sidewalk and looked up, her breath halting in her lungs for a moment. Beau was waiting outside the club, his arms folded over his chest like he had all damn day to wait... for her. Her heart lurched when his eyes met hers, determination shining in them. With her mouth suddenly dry, she wondered if she could simply turn around and go back to her apartment.
She’d dreamed about him last night. After seeing him at the café, after talking to him and finding out the truth, it almost made her reconsider her decision to keep him at a distance. She longed to have that intimacy back with him, but she wasn’t sure she was willing to risk her heart for it. It could only survive being decimated like that once.
Shaking herself, she straightened her spine and approached the front door of the club. Every one of her movements was precise—careful. She felt the key slide into the cylinder, felt each of the teeth slide into position. Letting out a breath, she turned the key and opened the door. She peered over her shoulder at him, already knowing he wasn’t going to leave.
