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“I guess so. I’m going to take a shower, if that’s okay?” It was the best I could think of to buy myself some time—time to cool down and figure out how to handle everything that had happened today.
“I’ll order some dinner for us. Chinese, Thai, what would you like?”
I leaned against the door. “You pick.”
“No way. If you don’t like those, I can get Indian, or how about pizza? You’re the guest. You pick?”
I was about to insist that he decide. But somehow, arguing with Evan seemed wrong after he’d kept me from becoming a stain on the sidewalk. I needed to tone down my inclination to dispute everything he said. “Chinese sounds nice.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked again after a moment. His voice held concern, something I never would have expected from Evan McAllister even a few weeks ago.
That voice almost made me open the door to tell him face to face that I’d survive and yes, dinner would be lovely. But I didn’t have the courage. “Nothing a hot shower won’t solve,” I assured him.
“Give me a second, and I’ll leave a glass of wine outside the door for you.”
I heard his footsteps retreat. Once again, he’d offered a kindness, and I hadn’t even thanked him. When had I become such a terrible person?
Any and all of the guys I’d dated previously would have followed my saying I needed a shower with a suggestion that they join me. But not Evan. He’d said something sweet, and for sure a glass of wine would help right now. Maybe we weren’t in danger of crossing that line between fake and real. Maybe he was just worried about me completing the acting assignment without a breakdown.
It wasn’t long before the footsteps returned. “A glass of white and one of red. I forgot to ask which you felt like.”
“Evan?” I asked.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for everything.”
“Enjoy your shower. The food will be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
After he left, I retrieved both glasses of wine, closed the door again, and shucked off my shoes. I gulped down the red before I even made it into the bathroom. Then I saw the tub. I hadn’t had a decent bath since I moved out of Dad’s. My apartment had the tiniest fiberglass shower in the corner. It was so small that I couldn’t bend over, and I had to put my foot up in the sink after getting out to shave my calves.
From the other room, my phone announced a text. I started the tub and went to get it.
GWEN: You have got to try the hot stone massage.
It had come in on our group thread.
I moved the bags of my clothes off the massive king bed and stretched out to message back.
ME: I’m envious.
I waited, and when I didn’t get a reply, I stripped off my clothes and went to soak in the monster tub.
At the doorway, I decided on a candle-lit bath and switched off the bathroom lights. The tub was almost full, and the temperature had stayed just right. I shut off the water, grabbed the bar of soap from the sink, and set the second glass of wine on the edge after a good gulp. I tied my hair up, selected the candlelight app on my phone, and slipped into the water.
The picture on the screen wasn’t as good as a real candle, but the water was heavenly. There were buttons on the tub, but I didn’t dare mess with them in the near darkness. After a few sips of wine, another text arrived.
CHELSEA: You should have joined us.
Drying my fingers on a hand towel first, I typed out a reply.
ME: I couldn’t - schedule.
GWEN: What have you been up to?
Oh, I just came home to an unlivable apartment because I pissed off the super. Then I got threatened with death if I didn’t give a local crazy a blowjob, followed by nearly falling to said death because I’m clumsy. And then the hardest one of all to admit, I’d come very close to not-fake kissing Evan.
None of those was an appropriate answer. So I decided on a partial truth.
