I absolutely refuse to look at him, but I manage to say in a semi-calm voice, “Because you don’t need me here anymore, and well… it’s just the right time.”
His hand shoots out and grabs my arm, forcing me to turn and face him. “Try again. I nearly lost my mind when I couldn’t find you, and Tyler said he hadn’t seen you. When I realized the limo was gone, I grabbed a cab and came here, and I find you packing to leave. And you probably weren’t even going to say good-bye. So try again, Emma and tell me what the fuck is going on?”
I’m not in the least surprised Tyler played stupid with Evan. I’m sure he wasn’t about to admit it was his words that drove me out of there. And now, I could easily throw him under the bus and tell Evan exactly what happened at that party.
But I don’t, and I don’t because I’m leaving and Evan will need Tyler. I have to hope that Tyler truly does have his friend’s best interests at heart, even if he doesn’t care about Evan’s personal life. I’ve got to hope that he will at least look after Evan’s business interests.
I also don’t tell Evan the truth of what happened at that party because it would be admitting that I’m absolutely pathetic because I let Tyler manipulate me. I fell prey to weakness.
So, I take a deep breath, let it out, and tell Evan at least part of the truth. “I’m not cut out for this. That party… it was awful. I hated it, and I hated watching those women fawn all over you. I hated feeling insecure while those women fawned all over you, and I hated that you would be all over those women had I not been there.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” he growls at me, his arm tightening just a tad.
“Those three women you were talking to,” I snap back at him, feeling the need to defend myself. “You know… big hair, tiny dresses, oozing sex at you. And you, laughing with them and being all intrigued by them.”
“You’re jealous?” he asks incredulously, his eyebrows knitted together.
“Yes, goddamn it,” I shout at him. He actually jolts over my language, because that was beyond foul for me. “And that will be your life from now on, and I can’t compete with that. I don’t want to compete with that.”
“I was just talking to them,” Evan says quietly as his shoulders sag. “One of them was the daughter of the one of the Phoenix execs, and she is in her second year at Duke. We were talking about the Raleigh-Durham area. She has a boyfriend who’s in med school there.”
Well, crap. That makes me feel absolutely stupid.
So stupid, I can’t even think what to say, so I lower my gaze and stare at the carpet.
“Emma,” Evan says softly, but I don’t look at him. “You have to trust me.”
At that, my head flies up and my eyebrows draw together. “I do trust you,” I say flatly, because it’s true. I never doubted Evan, specifically tonight. So I get to the real issue. “I just don’t trust myself.”
“Come again?” he asks.
I huff another breath out and try to explain. “I don’t trust myself to be able to handle all of this. You’re freaking Evan Scott. You have a legion of adoring female fans. It’s just so overwhelming to me, and I don’t like feeling badly about myself.”
“I don’t like you feeling badly about yourself either,” Evan mutters as he pulls me into his arms. He kisses the top of my head, and I can’t help but press into him tight. “And I don’t want legions of adoring female fans. I only want you, Emma. Why can’t you see that? I don’t get why you can’t trust that about me.”
“I don’t know,” I say pitifully into his chest. “I’m just so out of my element here. I’m so unsure, and I’m scared, and I absolutely hated it when you left me alone tonight. Why would you want someone so insecure? Someone who can’t handle herself at a party?”
I feel a chuckle rumble through Evan, and he squeezes me. “Babe… if it makes you feel any better, I hate that shit too. I hated getting pulled away from you, because you’re like a damn security blanket for me. I’m just as wigged out by these things as you are. I’m trying to figure this shit out too.”
This surprises me, and I pull my head back to peer up at him. His green-golden eyes are soft and beautiful as he gazes back down at me. “Really?” I ask.
“Really,” he tells me. “I mean… I love playing music, and recording it, and I’ve come to love being on that stage. But up there, I’m still removed from it all, you know what I mean? What I don’t like is having to play these games. Of having to politic with people, and figure out who wants to take a chunk out of me and who doesn’t. And the only thing I know for sure is that you, Emma… you don’t want to take a piece of my fame. You just want me.”
That’s true.
So very, very true.
“That helps,” I admit quietly. “To know you have some of the same insecurities.”