The knock sounds again, not loud or urgent, only persistent.
I swing open the door and almost stumble backward.
Eve.
“Why’d you do it?” Her eyes are on mine, focused to the point of delirium.
“Eve, what’re you doing—?”
“Answer the question.” She takes a quick step toward me, her hands clenched tightly. “Why? Why did you do it?” Her voice is louder now.
“Come inside.” Seeing her like this in the dead of night, clearly upset and wearing pink flannel pajama pants, an oversized UNLV sweatshirt, and slippers sets me on high alert.
“No.” She shakes her head, and her eyes travel from my bare feet up my drawstring sleeping pants to my stomach and linger there. “Um . . .” She blinks and drags her gaze slowly up to my chest, shoulders, and then her blue eyes hit mine, and, fuck, I like what I see by the time she gets there.
Her big blues are wide but foggy from her appraisal. Big full lips are slightly parted and her cheeks flush.
“Eve.” It’s a warning, a reminder, and a plea.
She blinks and shakes her head, clarity mixed with something off kilter returning to her features. “You paid off his debt, and I know how much that was, Cameron.”
My muscles tense. “Please tell me that slimy fuck isn’t bothering you. He promised he’d leave you the hell alone if—”
“I haven’t heard from him since the night he cleaned me out. Not him or the guy looking for money.” She blinks slowly and tilts her head. “How much did you pay him, Cameron?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’d have paid whatever it cost to get him to leave you alone.”
“Why would you—?”
“Because I’m in love with you.”
She stumbles back a step, eyes staring up in disbelief. “But you left . . .”
“Yeah, I fucked up, and even though I’ve got reasons for doing what I did, they don’t matter now, but I’m paying the price by giving you space, praying you’d show up at my doorstep.”
Her eyes narrow. “You knew I’d show up?”
“Hoped, prayed . . . but I didn’t know.”
“Right,” she whispers, chews on her bottom lip, and drops her chin.
It’s so fucking cute I can’t hide my smile, but something tells me my grin is more for the fact that she isn’t running away. “You coming in or are we having a conversation in the doorway?”
“Did I wake you?”
“It’s the middle of the night, and I’m standing here in my sleepin’ pants, doll. What do you think?”
Her eyes dart to mine. “Oh, yeah, I mean, if that’s okay with you, or I could . . .” She points over her shoulder with her thumb. “Another time—”
“You show up on my doorstep because you’ve got something to say. I don’t give a shit if it’s to tell me your favorite brand of beer is on sale. I’m waking up to hear it.”
A tiny grin pulls at her lips, and it sends a straight shot of warmth to my chest and my groin.
She tucks a long strand of her bangs behind her ear, a slight blush colors her cheeks. “That was really sweet, and I’ll have to remember to do that next time my favorite brand is on sale.”
“Sounds good.” I step aside and swing the door open wider, and she follows me in and down the hallway to my room. I flick on a lamp and drop down on the couch.
Eve’s hesitant, standing close to the door and tugging on the hem of her shirt.
“Have a seat.” I nod to the club chair across from me.
She moves to it and takes a seat. “Cameron, I’m sorry. I should’ve called or waited until the morning, but I couldn’t sleep, and all these questions were running through my head. I don’t know. Now that I’m here, it all seems so pointless and stupid.”
“The last time we saw each other, things were . . . intense. I stepped back to give you some space, time to figure things out. Now you’re showing up at my door in the middle of the night. You will not see me complaining about that shit, doll.”
A slight pink colors her cheeks, and she grabs her ponytail, splitting it down the middle, and then pulls each handful tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me about the money? I mean hearing it from Mason—”
“What were you doing with Mason?” The words stir up from my gut in a growl.
“Huh?” Her nose scrunches up. “Hiking.”
I groan and rub my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. “A date.”
“No, not a date, we usually hang out once or twice a week, and today it was so nice out we decided to go hiking.”
“Once or twice . . . dates, with an ‘S’.”
She tilts her head and studies me as if she can see straight through to my soul. “It’s not a date or dates. He’s one of my best friends, and I love hanging out with him.”
Love.
“He your man?” Fuck, the words kill to get out, but lucky for me my lack of impulse control wouldn’t allow them to be held back.
“No, he’s not my man. Jeez, Cameron.” She points at me. “And don’t you go changing the subject. I came here because I need information.”