“You’re right, he’s not a flat character,” she reconsidered. “Of course, he has a backstory. I wouldn’t sell books by the thousands if he didn’t. Evan is actually pretty complex.”
“So, tell me about him,” I pressured her. My thinking was that if she considered him out loud, she’d make a connection to the guy sitting next to her – me.
Simone twisted in the seat until she was facing me, and my eyes automatically dropped to the spot where her creamy brown thigh had become exposed. She ripped the sunglasses off her face, and I pulled my gaze up, trying to attend.
“There was a girl,” she began thoughtfully, “a girl he met in college. The minute he laid eyes on her, he desired her; deeply.”
“So, he has been in love?”
She shrugged. “It’s hard to say. She thought he loved her, he said he did, but then something happened, and she walked away from him, never looking back.” Her jaw jerked and her eyes dimmed a little. “The point is, he hasn’t been right since, and any woman who tries to pin him down ends up getting hurt. That’s just the way that he is.”
“The way he was.”
She scoffed at my adjustment. “Don’t go feeling sorry for him, Jax. He deserved to have his ass left in the dust. I’ve been trying to get him to settle down for the past two novels. I’ve designed all sorts of women: big, small, black, white... He’ll engage them for a few months, but after that, he’s back running the streets. Evan is a hot mess.”
“I see,” I hummed, not liking the narrative, especially since I’d been forced to live it out over and over. Hearing her say the words out loud had my chest tight. “Have you ever thought about reuniting him with his true love? Maybe that’ll stop him from being a rolling stone.”
“The girl from college?” she balked.
I shrugged. “If that’s who he’s pining for,” I said quickly. “I mean, obviously there’s only one girl for him. The more you try to stick him with other women, the more he’s going to rebel.” I glanced in her direction, trying to get a sense of whether she liked my suggestion.
She was frowning.
“What? Not a good idea?”
“No, it’s something to consider,” she affirmed, contrary to what her expression was suggesting. “I’ve thought about that. In fact, I’ve considered bringing them back together a few times.” She paused, deep in thought. “But I can’t see her anymore. I can’t hear or feel her. I think she’s gone. When she left him, she left for good.”
My jaw jerked and suddenly, Simone leaned into my personal space.
“Okay, I’m gonna’ tell you this, but you have to promise not to think I’m crazy.”
You’re not crazy, Simmy. Tell me what you’re thinking. I’m dying to hear it.
She moistened her lips. “Before the almost-accident, I was walking down the sidewalk talking to Evan.”
My heart jumped. “You were… talking to him?”
Simone groaned and rolled her eyes. “See, I knew you’d think I’d lost my mind,” she groused, and I laughed, caressing her thigh. In seconds, I was aroused beyond comprehension, and when I looked at her, the reading on her face indicated that I wasn’t the only one.
“I promise I don’t think that,” I assured her. “You were talking to Evan, and…” I prodded, eager to hear what she would say next.
“I was asking him to talk to me, to tell me what woman I should pair him up with. And then… you showed up.”
My throat tightened.
“And when we kissed last night, this entire scene for the next novel dropped into my brain,” she continued. “I saw Evan with this woman.”
“Who was she?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did she look like?”
“I could barely see her, but she had curves for days,” she answered.
I hummed.
“But the way Evan was looking at her, there was no doubt in my mind that she was the woman of his dreams.”
Yes, Simmy. You are exactly that...
“He told her he loved her,” she continued, perplexed. “I’ve never been able to get him to say those three words to anyone, no matter how many drafts I do, or many different ways I try to write it.”
Silence.
“Maybe it’s the girl from college, the girl you’re talking about,” she pondered thoughtfully.
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came.
Not even this conversation is revealing the truth, but is it progress?
Simmy sat back in her seat and pulled her sunglasses back onto her face. “Do you know how crazy this is, Jax?” she asked turning to look out of the window as her hair whipped up. “You show up out of nowhere and my muse ignites. What do you think it means?”
I cleared my throat, finally finding my voice. “What do you think it means?”
“At the very least, I’m thinking it means you’ve ignited my muse,” was her superficial answer.
And at the most?
“I’ve had writer’s block for months, and the minute you show up, it all changes.”
I chuckled, but it was dry. “Sounds like I was right when I suggested you should keep me around, then.” I rubbed her leg before putting the wandering hand back on the steering wheel. “Maybe we can finish that next story together.”
“I like the sound of that,” she agreed, smiling. When she reached over and pulled my hand off the steering wheel and into hers, I almost crashed. “And if you keep producing these scenes and visions, we’ll have the story finished in no time.”
Shit, it’d be less time than that. If I had anything to do with it, Book Three would be published next fucking week. The words were on the tip of my tongue. All I had to do was tell her that I was the guy she’d been writing about. All I had to say was that she was the woman in her visions. I wanted to tell her that I loved her with every part of me and I would only ever say those three words to her. She needed to know that the only woman that would satisfy Evan Hanson was Simone Storm.
But she wasn’t ready to hear the truth and I wasn’t quite ready to tell her. Maybe I should show her how desperately I wanted her – had wanted her all along. If I did that, things might begin to make sense in her mind. I couldn’t take the risk of scaring her away. I didn’t need setbacks and there were already a few. I’d wait a little longer and when the opportunity presented itself, it would all become clear.
Forever Yours
Evan
~Chapter Four~
It had only taken one date to win Natasha over. Well, I couldn’t call it a date because I hadn’t planned anything. I hadn’t expected to see her that day. Hell, I hadn’t even known she was a student at the university. Had I known she existed, our first time being alone would have been elaborate and over the top. My parents had divorced when I was seven years old, which amounted to more than a decade of money and whatever the hell I wanted being thrown at me and my siblings, in an effort to demonstrate that we were still loved. That included an apple-red Porsche and the finest of accessories.