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He knocks again.
I glare up at the ceiling. "Fine."
I unlock the deadbolt and open the door, and Evan's eyes sweep over me. I look ridiculous; I'm wearing a cozy pair of PJs with hearts and dogs all over them, and a t-shirt that says "Best Mom Ever." It's not the most fetching look.
But the hunger in his eyes...it's written all over his face.
Just like always, he wants me.
No matter what I'm wearing, no matter how exhausted I am.
"Hi," he says, holding the flowers awkwardly. He scrapes his hand through his hair. "I, uh..."
"Yes?" I ask.
He gulps. "Can we talk?"
I don't know what the hell he's doing here. He wasn't invited; as far as I know, he should be on a plane to Brazil, if not tonight then sometime in the next few days.
"I didn't know you were still in town," I say, ignoring his question.
"That's why I'm here," he says. "I want to talk to you. Can I come in?"
I narrow my eyes at him for a split second. "You weren't like...recently turned into a vampire, were you?"
He snorts. "Would I be sexier if I had been?"
I don't think he could get any sexier if he tried.
I shrug. "Okay then."
I let him over the threshold and shut the door behind him, and the dogs crowd around him in a cluster of wagging tails. One of them gets on their back legs and promptly eats the head off one of the daisies, and Evan gives me a sheepish smile.
"These are for you," he says.
"I figured you weren't saving them for someone else," I say, taking them. "Ah...sorry. I'm being a jerk. I just...wasn't expecting you."
"I know, but I thought with Alex out of the house--"
I frown. "How did you know..."
Then it all hits me.
"Tasha..." I shake my head. "Oh my God, she planned this. That's why she took Alex for the night."
"She did," Evan says, "but please, hear me out. I'm not trying to spring anything on you."
"No, you're not trying, youarespringing something on me," I say, brandishing the flowers at him. "Evan, what do you want? Just tell me, I'm tired and I was going to call it an early night."
He frowns and rakes a hand through his hair, shaking his head.
Then he looks up at me, his eyes more blue than grey.
"I'm staying," he says.
I look at him for a long time--or at least, itfeelslike a long time. I can't tell what he's trying to get out of me, how he wants me to act or feel.
But I don't think he understands that I've had this exact conversation before.
