“Security. I got the kind of life I never had growing up.”

“Yeah, but at a whole fuckton of sacrifices. You were willing to give up your life, your happiness, for someone else?”

“I didn’t give up my happiness…”

“Can you honestly tell me you’re happy with him? You’re happy in your life?”

She shook her head and looked at me, her eyes so heavy and sad, exhausted. “I haven’t been happy in a very long time, Riley. I didn’t think this made much of a difference. It was the best option I had, and it’s not all bad.”

I reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it between mine. “What do you need to be happy? What do you want?”

EVIE

His words settled over me, sank into my bones. It was something I hadn’t ever really let myself contemplate, but now that Riley was asking it, I faced the question I’d never truly considered. The question that would only ever bring pain, because to say what I’d want to make me happy would be admitting what made me sad, what made me ache, and I’d been trying for so long—years—to forget it, to push it back, bury it. Force it down and leave it in the past, where it belonged.

“I don’t know,” I said, averting my eyes and glancing out the window.

Riley reached out and gripped my chin between his forefinger and thumb, giving me no choice but to turn and face him. “That’s bullshit.” He leaned forward, staring straight into my eyes, and lowered his voice. “Now tell me what would make you happy.”

I blew out a breath, read the sincerity in his gaze, and let myself go down the path I’d avoided for so long. “I want to be safe.” Above anything, I always, always wanted to be safe, and I hadn’t truly been safe for so, so long. “I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder anymore. I want to be free to be Evie, not Genevieve. I want to be able to go into whatever kind of career I want, instead of one I hate simply because it will keep me under the radar. And I want to feel content and comfortable, be able to afford a nice life—not anything lavish, like I have now. That’s so much more than I ever needed, but I want to be comfortable.”

I’d managed to get that all out without even a single lie. Lying had become second nature for me, something I’d been doing for so long, it always surprised me when I was able to talk about anything involving my life and manage not to weave the truth and lies together into a convoluted version of what my reality was.

Riley was quiet for a while until he finally asked, “What about love?”

His question startled me enough that I could only blink at him in response. When I finally found my voice, I asked simply, “What?”

“Love,” he repeated. “That wouldn’t make you happy?”

Shaking my head, I dropped my eyes, not able to maintain contact with him. Because in them, I saw a thousand possibilities I’d lost when I’d walked away from him. “It’s not a matter of whether or not it’d make me happy. It’s a matter of whether or not I think it’s even a possibility for me.” I glanced up at him then, at the boy I’d loved so long ago, the boy I’d given my very soul to. The boy I’d walked away from. “I had it once. I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to have it again.”

Chapter Fifteen

RILEY

Through unspoken agreement, we’d migrated to opposite ends of the loft, spending some time alone after our talk—or as alone as we could be in the wide-open space. After the sun had set, we’d ventured out to the grocery store down the street, grabbing a few bags of things. I’d managed to toss a box of condoms in when Evie hadn’t been looking, because now that I knew the truth behind the Eric façade, I wasn’t going to back off. Not when I heard the absolute truth ringing in her voice when she said she didn’t think love was in the cards for her again. She honestly believed that, and I wanted to prove her wrong.

Evie was in the kitchen, boiling some noodles for spaghetti, the sauce from a jar already heating in a pan on the stove. It was easy and quick—and being cheap didn’t hurt, either. I sat on the couch while she stirred the pasta, pretending I wasn’t watching her, when in reality I couldn’t take my eyes off her, remembering all the times she’d done this for us in the past.

In the years we’d been together, she’d spent most nights at my and Gage’s place, all of us migrating there after whatever shit we’d gotten up to after school. Seeing her being so domestic after watching her on the streets, taking no shit from anyone, was something I’d craved. Mostly because I’d known I was the only person to ever see that side of her. It proved just how comfortable she was with me. Just how strong our connection was.

And seeing her like that now, especially after she’d landed me on my ass only hours ago through sheer will and force of her body, was sexy as hell.

“What’re you staring at?”

Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Unashamed, I shrugged. “Your ass.”

She snorted, turning around again and giving me another view of her spectacular backside. Now that I’d had her, had been inside her, it was taking everything in me not to go up behind her, reach around and cup her tits, kiss her breathless, take her to the bed and sink deep inside her body. But she’d pulled back since our talk, and as much as it was killing me, I wanted to respect that. I just didn’t know how long I’d last before I snapped.

“Well, stop staring and come eat,” she said, setting plates down on the counter and dishing up. I stood from the couch and headed into the kitchen area. I grabbed forks while she piled one of the plates with heaps of noodles and sauce, then put a more respectable amount on the other plate.

I grinned at her and grabbed the one she’d barely put anything on. “Feeling hungry tonight?” I asked, gesturing to the other plate still in front of her.

She rolled her eyes, but a smile flirted at the corner of her mouth, and I wanted to see her truly smile. The smile I hadn’t seen in so long—the one where her beauty mark would disappear in her dimple, and I’d get a surge in my chest because I’d been the one to make her happy. Getting Evie to smile—truly smile—had always been like sinking the eight ball on the break. A little bit of luck, a little bit of skill, complete satisfaction. I could still remember the first time she’d turned that dimple on me. I’d felt like I won the fucking lottery.

After I had both our plates, I walked over to the couch, waiting as she trailed behind me with two bottles of beer, the necks clutched between her fingers. Once she was settled, I set the plate she’d dished up for herself in her lap, then took the bottle of beer from her with a tip of my head and sat on the other end of the couch, facing her.

It was quiet as we began to eat, but even with the silence, I studied her.

Without looking up at me, she said, “You’re staring again, and since I’m sitting on my ass, that’s not what has your attention.”

I finished chewing the bite of spaghetti and then took a swig of beer. “I was just thinking about what it used to be like, when we were in high school. You remember when you’d cook like this for me and Gage?”

She stared at me for a moment, her eyes darting between mine, then she averted her gaze. “Of course.”

After long enough of her not saying anything else, I filled in the silence. “We were ungrateful assholes then, probably never saying thank you, but I always loved when you did it.”

She huffed out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Why? It wasn’t like I was a gourmet cook. We ate boxed mac and cheese or ramen or sandwiches on stale bread.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t so much what you made, but that you were making it, period. It felt like I got this glimpse of Evie that no one else would ever see. Where you let down your guard.”

It was subtle, the way she tensed, but I could see it. And it made me wonder just how much of her I’d ever actually seen.