As they walked along, Gray listened. It was all purely professional as his father filled Evelyn in on the goings-on for his chances at becoming the vice presidential nominee. And Evelyn talked to him about social media and campaign strategy and some numbers for the candidate on the other side.
Pretty interesting stuff. Evelyn knew a lot off the top of her head, which led him to believe she was very knowledgeable about her job. And his dad didn’t once look at her boobs, her legs, or her ass, but instead kept eye contact, which of course could have been because Gray was right behind them. But he’d also watched his father during the day today, and hadn’t once noticed him looking at any other woman— except his mother. His dad had caught his mother’s gaze several times throughout the day today, and smiled at her. She’d smiled back. Hell, the two of them had looked more in love with each other than at any time Gray could remember.
Campaign strategy? Something put on for the public? Who the hell knew? He dragged his fingers through his hair, more confused than ever.
They stopped at a table just off the main stage where the band had been playing.
“Gray,” his father said. “I want to tell you how much I appreciate your being here.
How much I appreciate your agreeing to do all of this, especially since I know you didn’t want to.”
“I’m doing it because Mom asked me to,” he said before thinking.
His father lifted his chin, then nodded. “Well, for whatever reason, thank you. I know we’ve had our differences in the past. I hope we can come to an understanding in the future.”
“An understanding about what, Dad?”
“You know. The past. I want to move forward, not look behind.”
“Yeah. That would be easier for you, wouldn’t it?”
His father laid his hand on his arm. “Gray, let’s not do this today.”
Or, ever? That would be the Mitchell Preston way. Sweep it all under the rug, never talk about it. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things that had been left unsaid in the past. So many things he wished his father would voice right now. He waited, but nothing was forthcoming.
He didn’t believe the pain he saw in his father’s eyes, didn’t care to see it. How could his father be in pain? Gray had never done anything to him. Gray hadn’t cast him aside and told him to get the hell out of his house, out of his life, and go fend for himself because he hadn’t lived up to expectations, because he refused to be molded according to someone else’s whims and ideals.
Screw his father and his fake pain.
“Gray.” Evelyn’s voice penetrated the haze of anger that shrouded him.
He shot his gaze to hers. “What?”
She blinked. “Are you ready?”
Fuck that. “No.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I said no.” He started to walk away, but she grabbed his hand.
“Don’t do this. Don’t walk away.”
He pulled his hand away from hers. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
Anger, old hurts, and just plain fury blazed the path in front of him. He didn’t even see the people around him as he made his way toward the house. The only thing he knew was he needed to get away from his old man before he suffocated, before the old memories choked him.
Evelyn followed him, all the way into the house, up the stairs, and into one of the bedrooms. He needed an escape, away from this place, from the memories of all the disappointments, the times when, according to his father, he’d failed to measure up.
Would one goddamned apology have cost him so much?
He paced the room while Evelyn sat on the bed and watched.
Finally, she asked, “What’s gotten you so pissed off?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“You have to talk about it with someone. Holding it inside isn’t going to solve anything.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Obviously there is.”
He stopped, looked down at her. “Get out, Evelyn.”
She didn’t budge. “I’m not leaving you like this.”
“I said get out. This is my house and I want you out of here. I need some time alone.”
“That’s the last thing you need right now. You’re upset and you need someone to talk to.”
He let out a laugh. “Trust me, the last thing I need right now is to talk.”
She stood, came over, and grasped his arms. “Then tell me what you need. Let me help you.”
He needed to not think about his father, about his past and all the hurts that he’d buried for so long. One visit home, one short conversation, and the memories were all here, choking him, making it hard for him to breathe.
His salvation stood right in front of him, the concern on her face tearing right through him.
“You know what I need? I need you. I don’t want to talk, Evelyn. I need to put my mouth on you and sink inside you and just not fucking think for a while.”
She lifted up and swept her hand around his neck, placing her trembling lips against his.