“Yes,” I say softly, making him finally stop talking. Shrugging, I smile. “Besides, who is going to want to be with a home-wrecker anyway?” I try to joke with him.
His phone rings, and he looks at it. “I wish I could stay,” he says. “There is just so much happening right now.” I want him to tell me everything, but something inside me knows I’m not ready for it.
“Will you tell me?” I ask. “Not now,” I tell him as his phone goes off again, and this time he gets up to answer it.
“Hello?” I hear him say, and he looks at me. “I’ll be there in twenty.” He hangs up, and I get up to walk him to the door.
“I want you to know something.” He starts to say, and I look at him. This man who I met walking into a restaurant. The man who I spent the night flirting with, the man who I left the next morning thinking I would never see him again. The man who has snuck into my heart without even me knowing.
“I didn’t just start this.” He swallows now, and I see his finger tapping the back of his phone. “When you told me that you couldn’t be with me, I walked out of here, and I’ve never felt hurt like that before. My chest felt like an elephant was stepping on it.” I listen to him, shocked that he went through the same pain as me. “I left here and put my plan in motion. Then when I saw you again, I pushed for it to go faster.” His phone rings again.
“Go.” He looks down at his phone and then looks up again at me. “You need to go, and it’s okay. I’ll be here.”
“I don’t know if I’m okay with you being by yourself,” he says, and I look at him.
“I dare her to come here,” I tell him. “She blindsided me at work, but she isn’t going to come into here and taint this house.”
“I want to kiss you,” he says to me, unsure if he can or should.
“Well, then, get your ass over here and kiss me,” I say, and he smiles as he charges to me. One of his hands wraps around my waist, lifting me off my feet while his other hand cups one of my cheeks, and his lips crash down on mine. I wrap my legs around his waist, and I kiss him like it’s the first time. His tongue comes out and twirls with mine.
His phone rings again, and I let go of his lips. “You have to go.”
“I do,” he says. “I don’t want to.”
“I don’t want you to leave either,” I say, slipping my feet off his hips as he holds my waist until my feet are on the floor. “Can you just send me a text later to tell me you’re okay?”
“I will,” he says. “As soon as I can, I’ll call you.” I nod at him, and I hold his hand in mine as I walk him to the door.
He kisses me one more time, and I watch him jog to his car. He stops and looks over at me. “Don’t open your door!” he shouts. “If she shows up here, you call the cops, and then you call me.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, and he puts his hands on his hips. “Don’t you think me calling you and you showing up is going to add fuel to the fire?”
“Evelyn,” he says my name, and I roll my eyes.
“Fine,” I tell him. “Now go,” I say when his phone rings again. He gets into the SUV, and I watch him drive away. I close the door and lock it and then walk back into the house. I turn the lights off, then grab the throw blanket and snuggle up on the couch.
I’m watching television, but my head is just thinking about Manning, wondering if he’s okay. I want to text him to ask if he is okay. No, actually, I want to be with him and support him. Hold his hand or even stand back in a corner as long as he knows I’m there for him.
My phone rings, and I jump up, seeing it’s Veronica. “Hello.” I answer her right away.
“Oh my god,” she says, her voice coming out in a rush. “Where are you?” I turn off the television and sit up, my heart sinking. “I just sent you a link. Jesus, Evelyn.”
My hands shake; they shake so fucking much it takes me three tries to click on the link.
Pictures start to load, and I gasp out in shock. There is a picture of Murielle in a back seat of a truck, and she is sitting on a man, her head thrown back in the middle of what looks to be an orgasm. The next shot is of the man kissing her and then one of him with his face buried in her tits.