She holds out her hand to me and gives my fingers a strong squeeze. “I’m Sarah Delane, it’s so nice to meet a friend of Rhys’.”
“Thanks, I—”
But I’m cut off when a shrieking child cuts between us in a flash of purple clothes and black hair. She propels herself at Rhys. “You said you weren’t coming for my birthday!” she accuses, and he leans away, giving her a mock-aggrieved look.
“Jesus, Stace, you didn’t really think I’d blow off your birthday, did you?”
She rolls her dark eyes dramatically before turning to Rhys’ mother to say something. When she notices me, she pulls her bottom lip between her small teeth. “You brought your girlfriend?”
Since I’m not sure what he’s told his family about me, I quickly shake my head. “I’m Evie, your uncle’s friend.” Before I realize what I’m doing, I kneel down so that we’re at eye level. “How old are you going to be on Monday?”
“Seven,” she whispers.
Twisting my head slightly, I look up at Rhys. His hands are stuffed in his pocket and his expression is unreadable, but a tiny smile cracks the corners of his lips when I scrunch my nose and say, “I hope you got her seven really amazing gifts then.”
***
Although Rhys doesn’t actually give Stacey seven gifts, I have to give him credit for his selection a few hours later after he tucks her into sleep and his mother heads to bed. As we lay in each other’s arms in the den with reruns of some HBO show playing in the background, I turn to him and say, “I begged for a karaoke machine when I was a kid.” I glance longingly at the giant machine he gave Stacey immediately after we celebrated her early birthday with pizza and cake.
“Did you get it?”
“My mom refused. She said I’d make too much noise.”
“You do make a lot of noise,” he admits and nudges his knee between my legs, rubbing it against my sex. Sliding my hand between us, I block his advances and give him a warning glare.
“I’ve already been caught giving you a blow job once this month,” I whisper. “I won’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if your mom walks in on us.” But I’m still breathless when he takes his touch from me, and I crave that dizzying satisfaction.
“You know,” he says, a serious expression on his face, “that’s the first time you’ve ever mentioned either of your parents to me.”
“Because there’s not much to tell about them.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“My mom works from home, and my dad is in sales.” I suck on the inside of my lower lip. “I love my parents, if that’s what you’re wondering, but we have issues.” Issues that began with your family, I want to say. I know that he’ll have to find out eventually, but I’m not ready yet. Especially not while we’re here under his mother’s roof, with his brother’s child sleeping in the other room.
He frames my face with his strong hands and offers me a smile that makes me weak all over. “All families have issues.”
***
As if she somehow senses that I’m out doing something I probably shouldn’t be doing, my mother calls me the next morning while Rhys drives us back to Richmond. I don’t want to answer her call with him sitting right beside me, and I plan to call her back as soon as I get back to my dorm. After she calls two times in a twenty-minute stretch of time, though, I finally answer.
“Thank God,” she whispers, her voice low and trembling, the moment she hears me. “Where have you been, Evie?”
I twist my face into a frown. “Um, why? You’re not sitting at my dorm or something, are you?” That had actually happened last year, with my dad showing up at school when I ignored his calls for too long.
“Should I be?”
Forcing out a laugh, I try to sound nonchalant, telling her, “No. I’ve been in the library studying for a test I have coming up next week.” When she lets out a sniffle, alarm bells sound in my head. “Nothing is wrong, is there?”
“No ... nothing like that. I’ve just been trying to call you. I kept getting voicemail, and I thought—”
Her voice trails off, and I can easily finish the sentence for her. She had tried to get in touch with me, and when I didn’t answer she automatically assumed something bad had happened to me—like it had to my sister. Out the corner of my eye, I look at Rhys and clench my fingers around my phone.
“I haven’t seen any missed calls from you,” I admit, which is the truth because I’ve honestly only noticed the last two. “My service isn’t always the best here. Why didn’t you leave me a voicemail? If you had I would’ve called you right back.”
“I ...” She swallows hard and then clears her throat. She lets out an uneasy laugh, and I can picture her shaking her head nervously, her hazel eyes avoiding mine as she speaks. “It wasn’t important. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. Are you still coming home for Thanksgiving?”
Her question sounds like a plea, and that scares the hell out of me. Has something new happened between her and my father? “Of course I’ll be there.” Then, I ask tentatively, “Are you sure everything is alright?” Once again she assures me that she is fine, and then she tells me she has to get ready for her book club, which I know is a lie. They’ve been meeting on Thursday nights, not Saturday mornings, for years.
Dropping my phone between my legs, I rest my face in my hands. “Is something wrong at home?” Rhys’ Southern accent breaks through the silence, and I shake my head.
“Honestly, I have no idea. My mom sounds like a wreck, and whenever that happens I just know my dad has fucked up.”
After a few minutes of stressing, I can no longer keep myself from calling Dad directly, but of course he doesn’t answer. I leave a voicemail. Then, just for good measure, I send him a text message.
“I’m worried about my mother,” I say softly to Rhys. He turns his head to look at me, and I release a frustrated noise from the back of my throat. “Dad isn’t exactly faithful. They’ve been doing better lately, but for a while he was screwing everything that moved.”
“The thing is, my mom and I have never been close—I was always my dad’s favorite. But when I found out what he was doing behind her back ... I loathed him. I didn’t want anything to do with him.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I look out the window. I can see Rhys’ reflection in the glass and every now and then, he casts a concerned glance in my direction.
“I’m sorry for complaining.”
His hand finds my thigh, the touch gentle and protective. “I’ll listen to every word that leaves your lips.”
My father still hasn’t called or messaged me by the time we get back to Richmond. When Rhys parks in front of my dorm, he cups the back of my neck and turns my face to his, moving his head from side to side.
“Come home with me,” he says, his voice thick with emotion and desire and need. “You don’t need to go in there, just come home with me.”
And before I realize it, I’m nodding. “Okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
As the days grow colder and the end of the semester gradually begins to creep closer, I discover my feelings for Rhys growing stronger. It’s beautiful and intense, but it’s also terrifying. I’m losing myself to him slowly—piece by piece—and I know that at some point, I’m going to have to let everything out if I want this thing to keep going.
And I absolutely want more of him. When I tell Kendra that he has become a necessity that I can’t see me going without, she laughs at me and tells me to slow the hell down, but it’s true. Rhys Delane has become that presence in my life that reverberates.
“What are you going to do after you finish up here? I mean with working as Professor Cameron’s assistant?” I ask him late one night, the weekend before Thanksgiving break, as he leads me through his dark apartment and into his bedroom. Even though I hadn’t planned to see him until our lesson on Monday, I’d caved and picked him up from Ippy’s after his shift ended fifteen minutes ago.