“No, we shouldn’t have. Then again, we shouldn’t have gotten married, and we did. We’re not exactly known for our good decisions, Evie.”
Pain lances across her face, her eyes instantly filling with tears.
And I feel like shit.
I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it. I let my anger get the better of me.
Her throat works on a swallow. She blinks, and a tear runs down her cheek.
Fuck.
But didn’t I want to hurt her? Hasn’t some part of me wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me from the moment I saw her standing there in the coffee shop?
But seeing her like this, crying, in pain…it doesn’t make me feel good. It didn’t before I fucked her, and it sure as shit doesn’t now. If anything, I just feel worse.
“Evie—” I start.
But she cuts me off, “It’s fine.” She forces a bright smile. Drying her face with her hands, she pushes her feet into her flip-flops. “You’re right. We’re not known for our good decisions, especially when it comes to us.”
She reaches for the lock on the door, clicking it open.
“Evie…wait.” I take a step toward her. She turns back to me, and something that looks a lot like hope lights her eyes.
What am I going to do? Say?
Ask her to stay? For what reason, other than another fuck?
Or do I ask her where it all went wrong for us?
What would be the point? I already know the answer.
It went wrong for us the day she decided to disappear and pretend like we never happened.
So, what do I say?
The only thing I can.
“I’m sorry.”
The light in her eyes dims, and she releases a sorrowful breath. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too.” Then, she opens the door, and she’s gone.
Again.
I’m nervous. And I’m not nervous often. But right now, I am seriously fucking nervous.
It’s Evie’s birthday. She’s turning eighteen today. And what that means for us is sex.
Evie told me a few weeks ago that she was finally ready, that she wanted to have sex.
Gotta say, I nearly came on the spot when the words left her mouth.
But then I thought about it. I knew her birthday was coming up soon, and I wanted this to be special for her. So, after talking it through, we both agreed for it to happen on her birthday.
She’s in the bathroom, changing right now—or I’m guessing preparing for it, as women do. I don’t know why. She was perfect as she was, but she insisted on getting changed, said she had a surprise for me.
I should be jumping for joy right now. I mean, my hot girlfriend, whom I’m crazy in love with, is in the bathroom, getting ready to have sex with me.
And I’m a nineteen-year-old guy who’s been sexually active since he was fourteen, having sex on a regular basis for all those years, and I haven’t had sex since I met Evie eight months ago.
I waited for her because she’s all I want.
But now, it’s finally going to happen, and I’m scared shitless that I’m going to somehow fuck it up for her.
Taking a girl’s virginity is a big thing. Taking Evie’s virginity, because of how much I love her, makes that big thing huge.
And the thought of hurting her…
Jesus, I don’t know if I can do this.
It’s going to hurt her. I know that. I just wish there were some way I could stop that from happening.
I get up from the bed where I’m sitting and put a CD on. Semisonic’s “Secret Smile” starts to play softly out of the speakers.
I turn to the window, looking out at the darkness.
I took Evie out for dinner earlier to celebrate her birthday. She insisted we come straight back here afterward. She didn’t want to wait any longer.
Seriously, if Evie had her way, we’d have skipped dinner altogether and spent the night in here.
But I wanted to do this right. I want this to be perfect for her and for me.
She deserves everything, especially considering how hard things are for her and with Casey being sick.
Once Casey was transferred to UCLA Medical Center, they did more tests on her, and Evie’s worst fear was realized. The tumor was cancerous, and it was more aggressive.