Come on, Eves. What’s the worst that could happen?
What was the worst, indeed?
Before she could change her mind, Evie set her computer on the mattress beside her and swung her legs over the edge. She stood, her bare feet sinking into the room’s plush white carpet as she marched toward her hanging purse.
Once there, she unzipped the brown leather crossbody, stuck her hand inside one of the bag’s interior pockets, and found the card right where she’d left it. Purse forgotten, Evie flipped the card over on her way back to what was her bed for the next couple of weeks.
When she settled back in, with her back against the headboard like before, she reached for her new cell phoneresting on the nightstand to her right. Nerves danced in her belly as her thumb brushed lightly across the penned digits.
It’s just a text. A simple, friendly, no hidden-meaning text.
Evie drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs to their capacity before exhaling the steeling breath and tapping her phone’s slick screen. She brought up the messages app and began entering the number as it was written on the card.
Her right foot bounced anxiously as it lay over her left ankle, and Evie’s lower lip became trapped between her front teeth. She stared at the empty space and the blinking cursor, trying to figure out exactly what she should say. After a few seconds of thought and another forced breath, she brought both thumbs to the screen and began typing out the message…
Hey, Beckett. It’s Evie Mitchell. I was just sitting here, thinking about you and?—
No. That sounded far too personal.
Evie deleted the last chunk of words and started that part over.
I know it’s been a bit, but I thought I’d let you know I’m still alive and kicking. Hope all is well with you and the team. Thanks again for all you did.
She read over the message as a whole, double-checking for any typos or parts that required revision. Deciding it sounded perfectly friendly and not at all like how she felt—like a desperate woman in lust with a man she barely knew—Evie threw caution to the wind and hit “send.”
And then…she waited.
At first, she kept sitting there, staring at the phone as if she could mentally force him to respond. When the waiting became too nerve-wracking, she set the phone down and went into the bathroom.
Evie began her nightly routine of washing her face and applying her preferred skincare. She’d showered earlier, so she’dalready changed into her PJs. But then Lo had called, so she’d put off the rest, and since there wasn’t anything else to do at the moment...
She grabbed her toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste and proceeded to brush her teeth with vigor. Once that task was completed, Evie glanced around the room, tidying up whatever messes she’d made before turning off the light and walking back into the other room.
When she was halfway between the bathroom and the bed, Evie heard the telltale dinging coming from her phone.
A new text.
Recognizing the notification as the receipt of an incoming text, Evie picked up the pace and hurried to where she’d left her phone. She stopped short of reaching for it, hating how badly she wanted it to be him.
It’s probably just Lo.
The new mantra was her lame attempt to avoid getting her hopes up. But when Evie finally picked up the phone and looked at who the new message was from, her heart nearly leaped into her throat.
It’s him! He wrote back!
Despite her thirty-one years, Evie felt like a teenager experiencing her first major crush. Her heart was racing, her palms felt sweaty, and a million butterflies danced wildly in her belly.
Unable to wait, she opened the message and began to read what Beckett had sent…
Hey, Evie! Good to hear from u! How r u? Bet ur glad to be home.
Her lips spread into an instant smile. The teacher in her rarely allowed for slang spellings or improper grammar. Occupational hazard and all that. But for some reason, seeing it come from Beckett made her smile grow even wider.
Definitely.
She hit send. Belatedly, she expanded her response with a quickly typed out…
Technically, I haven’t actually been home yet. I flew a bit south instead. I’m house-sitting for a friend.