Based on the redhead’s giant snort, I assumed she’d seen his post about me on Facebook. I wore a placid smile as I cocked an eyebrow at Mike. I was challenging the little shit to prove me wrong and call me overpaid to my face, but all he did was grunt, clear his throat and look away.
Then it was silent for a bit, Evie and the redhead exchanging looks I couldn’t read.
“Anyway, I could never be a professional masseuse,” Evie finally said to break the awkward silence. “I only bust out my A game for my man.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” Mike said.
This motherfucker.
Hillary up and left as Evie hugged my arms tight around her waist. She gave my forearms a quick but firm squeeze, and this time I read what she was saying. I got this one.
“Trust me, it takes a whole other level of strength to rub this one down,” she laughed good-naturedly, beaming up at me before returning her eyes to Mike. “I mean Drew’s all muscle. So it’s literally night and day between you two.”
Jesus.
Savaged.
Mike went red as Evie’s friends failed at suppressing their fits of laughter.
“I’m gonna find Hillary,” he muttered, that forehead vein beating with a life of its own as he turned around and left.
I was pretty sure Evie could be nothing but pleased with herself after that, but once we excused ourselves from her girlfriends, she took my hand and tugged me into the kitchen. By now, it was only the dishwasher in there and he gave barely a look in our direction before going back to own thing while nodding to the music on his headphones.
“Evie. What?” I frowned when I saw her hands trembling as she rubbed them over her face. “Jesus, baby. What happened?”
She took a few seconds to answer, and I didn’t realize I’d turned to hunt down Mike till she grasped a handful of my shirt and pulled me away from the door.
“Hillary might be living with him,” she blurted. I stared at her.
“What?”
“My friend Kate with the red hair. She’s the manager here and before you came, she told me something. And I’ve just been trying to hold everything in and act normal, but – ”
“What? What did she tell you?”
“She said she saw the address on some of Hillary’s mail. It’s my address. I mean not mine. But the apartment I spent forever finding for me and Mike.”
Jesus.
Now I was the one dragging my hand down my face. I didn’t need to know more to know what was probably the full story. Mike left Evie for Hillary. Considering how closely they worked, he’d probably been with sleeping with her before the breakup. It would explain why he refused to fuck Evie.
“I can’t believe this,” Evie whispered, furiously wiping at her tears. When I collected her hands in mine and tipped her chin up to face me, she curled her lip and turned away. “Don’t make fun of me for crying. I know what you want to say, Drew. That I should never trust anyone. Ev
eryone’ll screw you over at some point. You’ve said it. I get it.”
It was definitely the told you so moment I lived for, but as much as I loved to prove myself right, I couldn’t bring myself to gloat right now. I didn’t know Mike or Hillary, but this story didn’t surprise me because it was just what I knew of people in general. That said, Evie was blindsided. Again.
I looked at her big wet eyes. That wobbly lip. I thought of how she just curled up in her bed last night and just smiled so peacefully in her sleep. Despite all that, I was still itching to use this time to evangelize her. To bring her into the no-trust club. After all, misery fucking loved company.
But there was a small part of me that didn’t want to make her world as dark as mine. It was a sliver, but it refused to fuck her up the way I was fucked.
And for the first time in my life, I listened to the little voice instead of the big one.
“Evie, you made your appearance and you ended on a high note. Let’s just go home. I’ll pour you a glass of wine, we’ll watch a movie on the couch and we’ll forget this whole night even happened.”
“That sounds nice.” Her voice was shaky, pitiful. She continued avoiding my gaze as she wiped her tears. “But I feel like – I feel like I need to know for sure. I need to talk to Hillary. I mean I’ve known her since college. She used to make me care packages because I didn’t have money for groceries. She’s been such a friend to me for so long – there has to be an explanation. Right?”
“There isn’t, Evie. Please. Don’t do this to yourself.”