“For depression,” she says, looking up at me. “Even though I thought I did the right thing, it still bothered me a lot back then. And—” her voice catches— “I missed you. Lots.”
I grit my teeth. I fucking hate to hear that. I hate that I left her when she needed me, when Ashtyn needed me. Evie’s come to terms with it, but I still have my share of guilt.
“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “We were both just doing things the only way we could.” She blows her breath out. “When I found out you’d been by, though… It was not a good time.” She curls her legs up to her chest and leans her cheek against my arm. “I thought you’d hate me—and be heartbroken for her. I questioned that a few times, but I always figured what you didn’t know wasn’t hurting you.”
I feel her shoulders shake as her voice cracks, and Evie’s crying. Fuck. I lift my arm up slowly, bringing it around her even though it makes my torso light up. I tighten my bicep, urging her to scoot in closer.
“If she got curious,” Ev says through her tears, “I figured we could look you up. I didn’t think that you would want her wondering. I thought you’d be okay to find out then. Truthfully, I was so young, I didn’t know. Nothing seemed right. I knew it would break your heart.”
“Just not my back.” The words slip out, and Evie stiffens. I chuckle, and then stifle a groan as my ribs ache. “Supposed to…be a joke,” I hiss.
I feel like an old man as her hand strokes my shoulder. “You want anything right now?”
I shut my eyes and shake my head.
“You could get more Toradol.”
“Saving up,” I whisper-hiss. In the dim light of my room, I see her chew her lip. “Just rub my arm,” I tell her.
It feels good, of course, but more importantly, it makes Ev feel less helpless.
She stretches my arm out in her lap and starts to stroke it like she has the last few days.
“Anyway,” she sighs, “I screwed up. I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I would never have…”
But I was gone when she gave birth. Evie doesn’t have to tell me she might have chosen differently had I been there.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Damn it, Evie. Is she happy? Really?”
“You saw her. She seemed like a normal kid, right?”
“I don’t know.” My voice shakes, which surprises me. As do my words when I say, “I don’t even know what that is.”
Evie cuddles up to me. Her hand sifts through my hair, stroking gently even though I know it must be sweaty and unclean.
“Let me tell you, then,” she murmurs. “I think she has a really nice life. Happy.”
“Is it fucked up that she didn’t feel like…ours, that time I saw her?” My words are rough and quiet.
“I’d argue that, I think, though. You knew her at first glance. Landon…she does look like me, but not that much.”
“You don’t think?” I ask, surprised.
“Not really.”
I blink a few times. My damn eyes keep leaking every time I think about this—or my mother. It’s the goddamn hospital. Being a patient here.
“You know what’s awful?” she whispers.
“What?”
“I want kids,” she tells me quietly. “I want more kids…later. I still have this…hole there, you know?”
“It’s not the same.” I reach my arm around her, even though it hurts my torso. I cup Evie’s shoulder, rubbing through the T-shirt that she’s sleeping in. “It’s not the same, Ev. You did right.”
“Maybe your mother did right too, though. Please don’t hate me for saying that.”
“For having an opinion?” I squeeze her gently. “I would have hated you a long time ago for the blasphemy of plain avocados.”
“They’re not plain. That’s just misinformation. They’re salted and peppered and they’re very flavorful, I’ll have you know.” I can hear the smile in her voice. She leans against me again, and I can feel her wanting to hug me. It’s almost amusing how much Evie’s having to hold back. She’s a hugger, and she wants to plaster herself on me, I think. Hug it out and shit.
I move my arm from around her shoulders, and I twine my fingers through hers. Then I pull our joined hands onto my lap…over my thigh…until they’re resting where I really want to feel her. I can tell the moment that she notices, because she stops breathing.
“Landon.” She giggles in the dark. Her voice goes high as she says, “Are you serious?”
I don’t dare flex my hips, so I can’t rub my dick against her. I rub our hands against myself and groan, because goddamn, I fucking need this.
“All day,” I confess. Spines go into shock after a vertebral fracture. In my case, my lower half was tingling painfully, like an irritated funny bone, until this morning. “When I stood up early today, I realized the tingling was gone. And I guess with the big cutback on the morphine…” Her hand rubs against me, gentle, tentative, as if she wants to be sure that my dick really is hard as fuck and wanting her attention.
I groan. “I want to move my hips… You make me fucking crazy…”
“Oh my God, you’re crazy.” She laughs softly.
I take her hand and make it cup me. “Feel this? A miracle,” I rasp. “Think of what could have happened to him.”
She giggles as she rubs me. I’m panting and groaning—throbbing. “Ev…you’ve gotta make me come.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” She giggles.
“I am. I need relief…and only one woman can help.” I twist her nipple. She yelps. “Landon…I am shocked.”
“Don’t be shocked. Just help me out, and then I’ll help you.”
She laughs, as if I must be joking. “How can you do that?”
I would twist her nipple again, just to show her who’s in charge, except she’s bending down, moving my blankets. Her hand finds me, skin-to-skin, and it takes all my effort not to jerk my hips as Evie pumps my cock and, with her free hand, starts to roll my balls. I grit my teeth and try to keep my faster breathing shallow.
“Ahhhh fuck. Evie…” I grab her arm and squeeze it as her fingers play with my balls. “Fuckkk. That’s good… A little faster on the…yeah.” She gets the pace of her stroking just right, and I give in and let myself breathe deeply, even though it hurts…it also feels good.
“Ahhhhhh—my Evie.” My voice shakes on her name.
“Am I?”
“You know…you are.” I grunt, and for a moment, I’m afraid to come, but then she does this thing where she lifts both my balls and kinda grips them, as her stroking hand grazes the rim of my head just right. I suck a big breath back, and pain shoots through my ribs—right as she grips me hard and strokes me faster. Her hand comes over my head, then strokes back down. And up, then down…and up. Oh fuck, I’m leaking precum. God. Her finger tweaks me right there on the tip. I’m panting harder. “God…I think I’m…gonna…”
“Come?” she whispers.
Evie’s finger traces down the seam of my taut, aching balls, and that’s it. I unload in her hand, in a railed bed—on the third floor, no less.
I should be embarrassed, but instead, I’m energized.
We play a game where we measure how fast I can make her come with just my fingers. I score 3:55 the first time and 2:48 the second.
Winning.
Really winning.
I know better than to question it.
Thirteen
Evie
November 2017
Charlotte, South Carolina