Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(9)

It was the most dazzling fireworks display I'd ever seen; I could feel my heart beating in my chest with each explosion. The sparks felt like they were going sprinkle down upon us. Every so often, I'd glance up at Evan to find him watching me adoringly. Then he'd redirect his attention toward the fire in the sky.



       
         
       
        

When it was over, my toes were numb from standing in the snow and I was shivering. The fireworks were so mesmerizing; I hadn't registered that the temperature had dropped until now.

"Let's get going," Evan said, rubbing my arms when he noticed me shaking. "You're about to freeze into a lawn ornament." I followed him to the terrace where the fire had become a heap of glowing embers. Evan walked to the side of the house and returned with a couple gallons of water to douse the remaining heat in the fireplace. I packed up Evan's package and speaker system while he put the fire out.

When we neared the front of the house, Evan's black BMW was idling in the driveway.

"The limo driver?"

"Is awesome," Evan declared in awe. When we ducked into the warm car, I pulled off my gloves and thawed my hands in front of the blowing heater vent. "Now where?"

"Hotel?" I suggested, trying to sound nonchalant.

Evan grinned knowingly. "Mine or yours?"

The question suddenly made me think of Sara. I wondered how her night had gone, and where she and Jared were right now.

"Where do you think they are?" Evan asked, as if reading my mind.

"You don't think they … " I questioned.

"He was excited to see her again," he shrugged, "and she looked incredible tonight … "

"I know, right?!" I agreed emphatically. "But you don't think they would …  do you?"

Evan shrugged again. "Let's just pick a room and hope it's empty." He leaned over and found me waiting. What started as a soft kiss, pressed into a more urgent one, coated with want. The nervousness that shot through me at the thought of going to the hotel room, was quickly replaced with a need to get there as quickly as we could.

Evan pulled back, breathing heavily, "Yours." He buckled his seatbelt and put the car in gear, speeding out of the driveway. That's when we met the line of slow moving limos pulling out of the mansion's driveway and were practically forced to stop. "No way," Evan groaned, banging his head against his head rest in frustration. I laughed.

While we patiently waited to move more than twenty feet a minute, Evan stated, "I think this is going to be a great year, Em."

"I hope so," I squeezed his hand that rested on my lap and thought, It can't be any worse than last year.

"It's going to be different, that's for sure," he continued, "especially since you're moving in with your mother. Where did that come from anyway?"

I shrugged. "I figured now was a better time than any to recognize I have a mother." 

"Okay," he noted slowly with a nod of his head. "But this weekend? All in, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you're going to do something, you're going to give it everything you have. You've decided to reconnect with your mother, so why not move in with her?"

I shrugged again, never consciously recognizing that that was one of my character traits. But he was right. I was an overachiever, needing to excel in everything I did―so why not this?

"What's your therapist going to say about your decision?" he asked, and then shook his head when I wouldn't answer. "You stopped seeing her, didn't you?" I still wouldn't say anything, knowing how he felt about the therapy. "How come?"

"I'm fine," I defended. "I don't see the point. Besides, Sara's a better therapist than anyone with a PhD, and she doesn't force me to write down my feelings."

Evan chuckled. "That's probably true." His laugh tapered and he became serious. "You know if you ever need to talk … "

"I'm not much of a talker." I directed my attention out the window, not wanting to stir the emotions I'd made a point to shut off.

"I know," he accepted softly. After a moment of silence, he added, "This year will be better at school, too."

I glanced at him skeptically.

"Really," he assured me. "You know something stupid had to have happened over the break. Somebody got a nose job or slept with their best friend's girlfriend. They have short memories." Evan squeezed my hand, and I hoped more than anything that he was right.

My stomach fluttered with nerves when we pulled up to the hotel. While we waited for the valet attendant, Evan said, "Let's not go into this with expectations. We can do whatever comes naturally."