Page 8 of When I Was Yours


  “Holy fuck. You like her. You want to play boyfriend and girlfriend with her.”

  “Shut the fuck up. What are you? Five?” I walk from the kitchen to the living room, grabbing a hair tie off the coffee table, and I tie my hair back.

  Ignoring me, he laughs. “I get that she’s hot—really hot, in fact—but I never thought I’d see the day when Adam Gunner got pussy-whipped.”

  “Yeah, and if you want to see another day, then you won’t call her hot again, assface.”

  “Touch a nerve, did I?”

  Bastard’s winding me up, and I’m totally biting.

  Why am I biting? He does this all the time, and I never bite.

  “No. She’s just not hot to you.” I narrow my gaze on him.

  “Don’t worry, pussy boy. I don’t want to go near her if she’s managed to voodoo you into breaking your cardinal rule of one night only. I don’t want any of that relationship shit.” He flicks a hand at me.

  “She hasn’t voodooed me, you idiot. And we’re not in a relationship. We’ve been on one date.”

  “About to go on your second date, the very next morning after your first date. Like I said, relationship.”

  Shaking my head, I laugh at him and head for the front door. “See you later, fuckface.”

  “Later, Evie’s bitch.”

  I flip him off before closing the door.

  I get in my rental truck, my board and wet suit already in the back, and turn on the engine. Driving the McLaren with a surfboard is about as impractical as it sounds, hence the need for the truck.

  As I pull out on the road, the sound of Beyoncé and Jay Z’s “Crazy in Love” fills the truck. I turn it up loud, the song igniting the nervous excitement I’m feeling at the thought of seeing Evie again.

  She’s seriously gotten under my skin.

  I’ve never felt like this about a girl before.

  But if it had to happen, making me break my cardinal rule, then I’m happy as hell that it’s with Evie.

  I pull up to Evie’s apartment building to find her already waiting outside.

  I wind my window down as she approaches. She’s wearing pink flip-flops, jean shorts that are frayed at the bottom, and a pink T-shirt. I can see the bikini string tied around her neck, it’s white, and it has my mind wandering to all kinds of hot places. Her hair is down. It’s the first time I’ve seen Evie’s hair down. It looks beautiful. And I can’t help but imagine how all that long wavy hair would look spread out on my pillow.

  “Hey,” she says. She has the biggest and most beautiful smile on her face.

  And it’s all for me.

  I feel a strange swelling in my chest.

  “Hey.” I smile back at her. I reach my hand out, curling a lock of her hair behind her ear. I give it a little tug. “First time I’ve seen your hair down. I like it.”

  She gives me a shy smile, touching a hand to her hair, as her cheeks turn pink. “Thanks. I haven’t seen your hair down either. You always have it tied back.”

  Grinning, I pull the tie from my hair and shake my hair out. “How does it look?” I give her a cheeky smile.

  “Good. Really good.”

  The way she’s looking at me makes my shorts start to feel tight. I shift in my seat to rearrange the big fella.

  Refocusing my attention, I say, “You didn’t have to wait out here. I would have come up to get you.”

  “My dad and sister are still sleeping. I didn’t want to wake them. Anyway, it’s a nice morning to be outside.” She reaches up on her tiptoes, leaning against my door, and her fingers curl around the open window. “Good morning, by the way.”

  “Morning,” I whisper. I slide my hand around the back of her head and guide her lips to mine.

  She tastes like toothpaste and strawberries.

  Fucking delicious.

  Leaning back, she stares into my eyes. Hers are wide and innocent.

  My heart starts to pound, and my cock is definitely paying attention. God, I want her innocence. I want to hide it from the rest of the world and keep it for myself.

  I’m pretty sure Evie’s a virgin. I got that from the tentative way she kissed me last night. I’ve kissed a lot of girls, and I’m good at recognizing the inexperienced ones, not that I’ve ever fucked a virgin. That’s something I wouldn’t ever do. I don’t want the responsibility of being a chick’s first time.

  But Evie…the thought of being her first…fuck yeah. I want to be her first…and last.

  And listen to me.

  Only one date, Gunner. You’re not even her boyfriend yet.

  Yet?

  “So, is this another car?” she asks, tapping a hand on the frame.

  “It’s a rental. The McLaren’s not practical for getting my surfboard around, so I rented the truck. I could use Max’s truck, but I like to have my own. Hate relying on other people.”

  “Yeah, I get that. That’s why I wish I could drive, so I wouldn’t have to catch the bus. I don’t mind riding the bus to work, but I hate the waiting around. That’s why I come to the beach for that hour—to kill time instead of sitting waiting for it.”

  “Lucky me that you can’t drive.”

  “Yeah, I guess we wouldn’t have met if it wasn’t for me catching the bus.”

  “No, we’d have met. I would have found my way to you somehow.”

  And I’m turning into a pussy-quoting fool. But honestly, I can’t seem to find the will to care about that around her.

  As long as I’m making her smile the way she is right now, then I’m happy.

  “So, you wanna get in my truck and go catch some waves? Or stay here and make out? Just so you know, I’m happy with either, but my vote does sway heavier with the second option.” I give her my best smile, the one that always gets me laid—not that I expect that to happen with Evie anytime soon.

  “Surf.” She grins at me and then starts to make her way around the truck. “There will be plenty of time for making out later, but the waves won’t wait,” she adds, climbing into my truck.

  She’s right even though I would happily ditch surfing to make out with her, which says a lot. I wouldn’t normally miss a wave for a girl, not even for a blow job.

  “Can we stop by Grady’s on the way to the beach?” she asks. “My surfboard’s there.”

  “Sure, but will it be open at this time?”

  “No.” She starts buckling up. “But Grady’s house is behind the Shack, and me and the others who work at the Shack all leave our boards in his garage. Saves taking them home, especially with me riding the bus.”

  “Will Grady be awake?”

  She gives me a crazy look. “He’ll already be out surfing. He’s usually out there the second the sun starts rising.”

  Putting the car into drive, I pull out of the apartment parking lot and head back toward the beach.

  “So, I’m guessing you’re not from Malibu,” Evie says as I drive.

  “What gave me away?” I smile.

  “The fact I’ve never seen you around before.” She smiles back at me. “So, where is home?”

  “Beverly Hills.” I glance at her.

  I see a flicker in her eyes. If anything, it looks like discomfort, not the impressed look girls usually give when I tell them where I’m from.

  I don’t want Evie to feel intimidated by the money I have—well, that my parents have—so I quickly change the subject. “So, you have a sister?” I ask, well aware that she’s never mentioned her mother.

  “Yeah, Casey.” She smiles big, and I get the impression that Evie adores her sister. “She’s seven.”

  “Big age gap.”

  “Yeah, my folks struggled to have another baby after me. My mom had a few miscarriages, and then Casey came along. She was our miracle baby.” Her happiness fades a little. “She’s been sick though, but she’s on the mend now,” she adds, sounding a little brighter.

  “What was wrong with her?” I reach my hand over, taking hold of hers, and I link our fingers together.
The feeling is electric. Every time I touch her, the sensation increases. There is nothing like it.

  “She had an ependymoma, grade two, brain tumor. The doctors did surgery on it, and she had radiotherapy.”

  “God, I’m sorry,” I say.

  “She’s doing much better now, but yeah, it was a pretty rough time. We’d lost my mom only a few years before in a car accident.”

  Her mother died.

  “Jesus, Evie.” I squeeze her hand.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Listen to me talking about my woes, and it’s only our second date.”

  “Don’t ever be sorry. I want to hear about it…I want to know you,” I tell her in all seriousness.

  She rests her head against the seat, looking across at me. All I want right now is to hold her in my arms and kiss away every bad thing that has happened to her.

  She lets out a breath before speaking. “My mom and dad were in the car on the way back from the mall. They’d been out buying my birthday presents. A truck driver had a heart attack behind the wheel, went through the median, and hit their car.”

  Her eyes are filled with tears, and my heart contracts in my chest.

  “Mom died on impact, which I’m glad for—you know, because she didn’t have to suffer any pain.” A tear runs from her eye, and she brushes it away. “Dad was in the hospital for a long time. Severe head trauma. He has problems with his short-term memory, and he lost use of his right arm. So, he can’t work anymore.”

  Jesus.

  Now, I’m seeing the reason she works so many hours at Grady’s.

  It makes me want to give her every cent I have.

  She lets out another breath, swiping her fingers under her eyes. “Look at me, getting teary. I really am sorry.”

  “Like I said before, don’t ever be sorry.” I clear my clogged throat. “I think you’re amazing and so strong to have gone through all of that and still have the ability to smile that beautiful smile of yours.”

  I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to it. I rest our bound hands down on my thigh, and I don’t plan on letting go of her for the rest of the drive. Or maybe ever.

  “What about your family?” she asks. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “I’m an only child.”

  Don’t ask about my parents, I silently wish.

  I don’t want to tell her who my mother is. People always change toward me the instant they know, and I want to keep things with Evie just the way they are. I want her to stay looking at me the way she is right now, like she sees only me and not my mother.

  “What about your folks? What do they do?”

  Fuck.

  No getting out of it now. I’m not going to lie to her.

  I blow a breath out. “My mother…she’s an actress.”

  “Cool. Stage or TV? Although, I don’t get a chance to watch TV, and I don’t go to the theater, like ever, so I might not know her. I apologize in advance for my ignorance.” She smiles at me, wide, and it’s the most beautiful thing.

  She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

  Keep looking at me like that, Evie. Please don’t ever stop.

  “My mother is Ava Gunner.”

  I keep my eyes on her for as long as I can. I see the recognition of my mother’s name flicker in her eyes.

  Then, I wait for it—the change.

  But it doesn’t come.

  “So, does that make you Adam Gunner?”

  Huh?

  “Well, I’m not James Bond.” I laugh, a little unsure of what to do in this moment.

  “Hey, smart-ass!” She gives me a light jab in the arm. “I meant, I didn’t know your surname, and I know actresses can have stage names, so I wondered if that was your surname or if you have a different one. What’s wrong—”

  It’s at this point that I’ve slammed on the brakes. Luckily, the road is clear of cars behind me.

  I lean over and grab her face, and I kiss her, hard.

  I kiss her because she doesn’t care who my mother is. She cares who I am.

  And to me, that is everything.

  When I break away, I’m breathing heavily. Evie’s breaths are coming out in sharp, short little gasps, and her cheeks are flushed.

  “Wow. Okay,” she murmurs. “Not that I’m complaining—because…holy kiss—but…what was that for?”

  I press my forehead to hers and stare deep into her eyes.

  “I just told you that my mother was Ava Gunner, and you didn’t care.”

  Her eyes soften on me. “Do people always care?”

  I curl my fingers around her ears, taking her hair behind them. “Mmhmm.”

  “I do know your mom is really famous, but I’m not a big movie person. I don’t really get time to watch films, except for Disney movies with Casey. Now, if you’d told me your mom was Stephen King—well, not your mom because that would be weird if your mom was a dude, but you know what I mean. But, yeah, if she’d been him, then it would have been a different story. I would have jumped your bones for sure.”

  “You’d have jumped my bones?” I raise a brow.

  A stain appears on her cheeks. “Well, maybe not jumped your bones, but I’d have definitely been excited.”

  “Good to know.”

  She presses her small hands to my face. “Sure, it’s cool that your mom is Ava Gunner, and I’m sure she’s a really nice person. But, honestly, all I care about is who you are. And from what I know already, I really, really like you.”

  I brush my thumb over her lips. “I think you’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

  “I remember you once telling me that, yeah.” She bites her lower lip.

  “And she’s not.”

  “Who’s not, what?” Her eyes are on my mouth.

  “My mother. She’s not nice.”

  Her eyes lift to mine. “Oh.”

  “But that’s a story for another day.” I give her another gentle kiss before putting the truck back in drive and pull out onto the empty road, feeling a lot lighter than I did a few minutes ago.

  We decide to go to Surfrider Beach, which is not far from my house, so I take the car back home where we change into our wet suits. Knowing that Evie is changing in the next room from me, that she is naked in there…it does all kinds of crazy things to me.

  Then, we walk down the beach, and Evie tells me all about how Grady taught her how to surf and that he was a pro surfer in his day.

  I can’t wait to get out on the waves with her and see what she can do.

  She’s so different compared to the girls back home. I can’t imagine one of them getting out on a surfboard. They might break a nail or something.

  “Here good for you?” I ask her. Stopping, I assess the waves, which are looking good.

  “Yeah.” She puts her bag on the sand, standing up her board. “Could you fasten my wet suit up for me?” she asks.

  She has the wet suit on fully, but she didn’t zip it up all the way. I knew that because, as we were walking here, I couldn’t help but notice the bare skin on her back or the small bikini string through the gape.

  “Sure.”

  She turns her back to me. I put my towel and sunscreen next to her bag and then put my board down.

  She already tied her hair up back at the house, so I brush her ponytail over her shoulder and see that my hands are shaking.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  It’s not like I’ve never touched a girl before, and all I’m doing is zipping up her wet suit, for God’s sake.

  Get a grip, Gunner.

  Taking ahold of the zipper, I pull it up to the top.

  “Thanks,” she says when I’m done.

  I notice she sounds a little breathless.

  “Do mine?” I ask.

  “Sure.”

  She’s not even touching my skin, and my cock starts to get hard at the feel of her being so close behind me, her hand pulling up the zipper.

  And seriously, a hard-on and a wet suit do n
ot go well together.

  I need this boner to disappear.

  Naked old ladies. Hairy, wrinkly naked old ladies.

  My mother.

  That does it.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  “I was born ready.” She grins, and then she suddenly takes off for the water, her board in hand.

  Laughing, I chase after her.

  Something in my gut tells me that I’ll probably always be chasing after Evie, one way or another.

  “You were great out there,” I tell her, drying off my hair with my towel.

  We’ve finished surfing and just rinsed off under the outdoor showers, and we are heading back to our stuff on the beach.

  I shake my towel out before laying it on the sand, and I peel my wet suit off. I’ve got my board shorts on underneath. I pull my hair back, tying it up, and then I drop down onto my towel.

  Evie has laid her towel out next to mine.

  Kneeling on it, she says, “Can you unzip me?”

  Sitting up, I take hold of the zipper. I slowly pull it down, the sound loud between us.

  Zipping her up before was deliciously tough. Lowering her zipper now…exquisite fucking torture.

  The beach is quiet with some people still around, but as far as I’m concerned, there is only her and me.

  When the zipper touches its base, I stare at the exposed skin at the bottom of her neck. It looks so soft, so enticing. I want to know how she tastes. And I can’t help myself, I press my lips right there.

  I feel a shudder run through her body.

  “What are you doing?” she asks softly.

  “Tasting you,” I breathe against her skin. “Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  Moving closer, she presses into me. My arm slides around her waist as I trail a path of kisses up her neck—until she turns her face to mine. I stare into those whiskey eyes for a long thrilling moment, falling somewhere unknown. Then, I take her mouth with mine. I kiss her gently at first until she’s moaning in my mouth and turning in my arms. Her fingers slide behind my neck, linking there, holding me like she never wants to let me go.

  And I know for sure that I don’t want to let her go.