Which he most certainly had to do.
However, considering the way Susan had all but forced Paige to come to the hotel with him, Evan wondered if that hurdle—the one where his family disapproved of him being with his soon-to-be ex-wife’s sister—even existed anywhere but in his own mind.
Paige shot him a mock frown as he sat beside her. The chairs were close, his knee brushing hers as it had all afternoon while they played Yahtzee. He felt the headiness of her proximity like the bubbles in her champagne.
“You’re not celebrating with me?”
“Beer has fizz.” He clinked his mug against her glass, then drank, licked the foam off his lip, and noticed the way her gaze locked on his mouth.
Like she wanted to do the licking.
Jesus. She wasn’t just invading his dreams, she was inside his head, his body, his heart, every second of the day.
“Today went extremely well, don’t you think?” She looked at him over the rim of her glass as she sipped the champagne.
“It did,” he agreed, even though he’d rather be leaning close and whispering hot nothings in her ear and closing his eyes to steep his senses in her.
“Are you going to give me two- and three-word answers all night?”
Kiss me. Those were the two words he wanted to give her. And then three more. I want you.
Instead, he said, “No.” And thought, I shouldn’t be having these feelings for you. “Tony and Kelsey are great.” But I can’t stop thinking about you.
“And what about your mom? Does her story help at all?”
“Some.” If I kiss you right now, you won’t be able to ask a single other question. And you’ll taste like heaven. “If she’d tried to get me, if my dad had caught her trying to leave him, she might not have been able to run at all.”
“Do you feel you could ever forgive her?”
One kiss is all it will take to clear your mind of everything but how good I can make you feel.
Before he could formulate a response to her extremely weighted question, her phone rang from the depths of her purse. Her pupils dilated slightly as she looked at him.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“No,” she said flatly. Then she swallowed and said, “I’m sure it’s Whitney.”
Whitney. Always goddamned Whitney between them. “How can you be sure?”
Without taking her eyes off him, she fished out her phone and showed it to him. “I’ve been ignoring her calls.”
“That’ll come back to bite you.” He knew that better than anyone.
“I don’t care.” Her gaze was militant. “She won’t ever listen to reason or take responsibility. No matter what I say to her. No matter what anyone says. Like I told you before, I’m done with her games.”
So was he. But would Whitney let either of them ever be done with her?
“This is why I don’t see forgiveness in my future,” he said, “because people never change, do they? Take Whitney. She was always a liar. And I was always the idiot who didn’t know it.”
Paige put her hand over his, and he realized his fist had clenched. “You weren’t an idiot. She’s just so good at—”
“Manipulating me.”
“She manipulated me too.” Her thumb stroked the back of his hand.
God, her touch. It made him insane. Filled him with so much desire that there was barely any room left in him to care about how bad his marriage had been. All he wanted was to drag Paige onto his lap and ravage her mouth until she forgot everything else. Until all that mattered was her, and him…and pleasure.
“Tomorrow.” The word came out hard. Partly out of frustration over how badly she wanted him to forgive Theresa. But mostly because of the battle between his conscience and how much he wanted Paige, no matter the consequences. It was his mistakes with Whitney that made a relationship with Paige an impossible fantasy. “We can talk more about all of this tomorrow.”
Her face dropped all expression, her eyes grew shuttered, and her hand slid from his. She pushed her drink away, picked up her purse, and headed for the elevator, Evan close at her heels.
The elevator door was closing as she said in a stilted voice, “The only thing I truly want is to help.”
“I know that.” He wouldn’t let himself look away from her beautiful eyes. “But maybe I can’t be fixed.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You’re wrong, Evan.”
Nine years. She’d waited nine years for him to come around. Nearly an entire decade for him to look in the mirror and see what she did every time she looked at him.
Tonight, Paige was done with waiting.
Either he was willing to finally open his eyes to everything that she saw, everything she knew to be true.
Or he wasn’t.
“I’m not trying to fix you.” She refused to let her hands tremble. Wouldn’t allow her stomach to twist. “You don’t need anyone to do that. Can’t you see that you’re already perfect just the way you are?”
He stared at her for a long moment.
“No,” he finally said, “you’re the one who’s perfect.”
She didn’t have time to breathe, or even to blink, before he was hauling her up the elevator wall and crushing his lips to hers. His kiss was brutal and beautiful.
And, oh God, he tasted like pure bliss.
Her mouth opened beneath his, and she wrapped her arms and her legs around him, holding him tight against her. He consumed her, testing every hollow and dip of her mouth, caressing her tongue with his, letting her feel all his heat, his muscles, his arousal against her.