We all seem to breathe at the same time, because this isn’t good. It’s bad, really fucking bad. He knew what he was looking for without a doubt.

I shuffle along with the line of prisoners as we all make our way to the visiting rooms. Although this isn’t the first time for me. The last time I walked to the visiting room, I had no idea what waited for me, no idea what would unravel in the aftermath of the visit. Up until then I had only visited psychiatrists or the parole board in the prison.

But this time when a sound blares before one of the officers opens a white gate with the paint peeling off it, I smile, because I know what waits for me on the other side—who waits for me. We all file through and to the next gate where she does the same process then we’re all searched and allowed into the main room where all of the visitors sit waiting.

I come to a stop just like I did all those years ago, watching as the prisoners see their families before my gaze lands on a man. Not just any man, but my man. The one person who I know I can rely on more than anyone else.

A slow steady smile lifts my lips as his eyes connect with mine and then that grin appears. The grin that has my heart simultaneously melting and pounding harder at the same time.

I take a step toward him as he stands up, lifting to his full height and pushing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

My eyes land on his t-shirt as I take the final couple of steps and I can’t help but throw my head back laughing.

“What?” he asks, an innocent look in his eyes that is soon replaced with a hint of laughter.

I shake my head as I read the slogan on his dark-blue t-shirt: “1+1=3 IF YOU DON’T USE A CONDOM.”

“It’s very appropriate.” I smirk, pointing at it and shaking my head at him. How does he always know how to bring a smile to my face? How can he have me pealing out with laughter without even saying a word?

“I thought it was very apt.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving me that boyish grin once again as he steps forward.

“No touching,” a guard snaps. And just like that, I feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders again. He may be here but I can’t touch him, I can’t speak to him in the way I would if it was only the two of us.

My head drops and I sit down as Evan takes the seat opposite me, his hands twitching at his side. When I look up, I can see his eyes are focused on my stomach and my hand moves there.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, leaning forward slightly.

“Tired,” I whisper. “And hungry.”

He smirks before his eyes land on a vending machine in the back and he stands up without a word.

I watch him walk over, my gaze landing right on his ass and sighing. I miss him. I miss him so much and I’ve never missed anyone but Gran. I bite my lip as I watch his fingers key in codes and can’t help but squirm in my seat as images of his hands on my skin assault me.

This is really not the place for this, I know that, but my hormones don’t, and that’s what I’m blaming, my stupid hormones.

I lift my arm and rest it on the table, the sound of my cast vibrating around the room. My bruises and cuts are slowly healing, but I know it’s going to take a while. It helps now that I’m in a different prison. Not that it’s all that different, but the main one being that I don’t have anyone here that wants to hurt me.

Several chocolate bars land on the table and a couple bags of chips and I dive forward, opening the chips and the chocolate at the same time as I take a bite of each. I haven’t eaten anything like this for what feels like years.

“Shooo gwwwoood.” My eyes roll back and I savor the taste, destroying most of the food in record time before leaning back and taking a sip of the water that sits on the table.

“Better?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Uh huh.” My gaze tracks him, noting the dark circles under his eyes. “Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

The sound of the five-minute warning alarm rings around us and I startle, not believing that our time is up already. It can’t be, it went too fast.

“I’m good, baby, promise.” He leans forward. “We’re doing all we can to get you out of here. Fuck!” He runs his hand through his hair in distress as I see the brief flicker of an emotion before it’s gone. “I can’t stand you being in this place.”

“That makes two of us,” I murmur.

We’re both silent for several minutes, neither of us saying anything but our eyes telling a whole story. My throat starts to close up at the thought of not seeing him again for another week. Why did I spend most of the

time eating? Damn hormones!

Tags: Abigail Davies MAC Security Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net