Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(86)

For ninety minutes, Sara interrogated Analise. Of course she did it in her own Sara-way, laughing and getting excited when they liked the same things. But every so often, she'd shoot me an are you kidding me glance that kept a smirk on my face. 

We headed out along the trail, adorned with backpacks. Analise kept up alongside Evan and Jared, allowing Sara and me to follow behind―evidently she'd had enough girl time.

"What's with her?" Sara asked, watching as Analise giggled and swatted at Evan's arm. "She seems nice enough, but I just …  I just don't like her."

I laughed―probably louder and harder than I should have, making the trio turn back toward us.

"Emma!" Sara scolded, chuckling. "Stop. She's going to think we're talking about her."

I continued to smile, keeping enough distance between the two groups so we wouldn't be overheard. "I'm sure she knows we're talking about her."

"She's way too excited for my taste. Like a pathetic puppy dog."

"If she's too excited for you, then that's an issue."

"A huge issue," Sara laughed. "And if she touches Evan one more time, I think I may have to take her out for you. Why aren't you bothered by it?"

"Oh, I am," I told her. "I just thought I was being a stupid, jealous girlfriend."

"You're not," she assured me, but that only made me feel worse. "She needs to take those big brown eyes of hers and back the fuck off."

"Sara! Omigod!" I laughed. Sara joined me.

"What's so funny?" Evan asked, stopping to wait for us to catch up.

"Sara," I stated with a smile, like that was the only explanation needed.

Evan grabbed my hand, and Sara quickened her pace to catch up with Jared, sliding her arm through his. Analise, being the odd person out, continued along the trail, feigning interest in the tops of the trees to avoid looking at us.

Evan slowed down as we neared a bend, allowing the rest to disappear before stopping completely. "Hi," he smiled, vanquishing the jealousy that seared under my skin. He leaned down and sent my heart into convulsions with the touch of his lips. "I've wanted to do that for way too long."

"I've needed you to do that for way too long," I breathed.

"How are you after last night? I heard about the argument at the game." He studied me intently.

"It's hard to watch," I admitted. "I have a feeling they're on the verge of breaking up, and I don't want her to get hurt."

"I know," he said, kissing me softly. "Well, it's good to get away from the tension then." I nodded. Evan squeezed my hand and we continued along the trail. This was exactly what I needed, despite Analise's presence.

"Can I ask you something?" Evan climbed up next to me on a rock after handing me our lunch.

"Sure," I answered, unwrapping the sandwich.

"What was that sweater thing all about the other night?"

I stopped mid-bite, not having considered how it may have looked to Evan. I pulled the sandwich away and said, "It was a misunderstanding." I took a bite, and Evan waited for me to continue. Before I even thought about what I was saying, I added, "It wasn't my sweater."

"Oh," Evan replied, dismissing the subject as he unwrapped his sandwich and began talking about how we both had one more game next week before the championships.

I forced another bite out of the sandwich, having lost my appetite. Lying made my stomach volatile. I didn't know why Jonathan had my sweater. But for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to tell Evan that.

We returned to the car just as the sun was hiding behind the trees. Evan and I sat in the back with Analise. I made certain to sit in the middle. She really was nice, truly. But it was so very evident that she had a thing for Evan, and I wasn't going to pretend to be oblivious.



       
         
       
        

I nestled in under Evan's arm, resting my head on his chest. I breathed in his clean scent swirled with the mustiness of the outdoors and closed my eyes. He kissed the top of my head and played with my fingers, running his through mine and lightly drawing circles on my palm. I let the tingling of his touch lull me to sleep.



I looked at his face as he held my hand, walking with me along the beach. He hadn't shaven for a few days, making him look like he should be camping, not collecting seashells with his daughter. The ocean air ruffled his dark brown hair but his smile was permanent, making the lines along his eyes crease, like they were smiling too.

I held the pail in my hand, swinging it lightly. My eyes flit everywhere except the ground―the birds darting along the shoreline pecking at the sand, the dark rolling water crashing into the rocks, then back to my father's face that looked so relaxed and peaceful.