"I thought I'd have lunch with my girl and catch up."
His mischievous grin reveals his intent to poke the bear. I'd like nothing better than to ignore him, but I can't. I can't let his comment slide.
Standing in front of him, I cock my hip and straighten my spine. Our gazes clash. His captivating eyes cut through my defensive thoughts.
His irises are a kaleidoscope of earth tones, predominantly amber with flecks of green and gold. With a gulp, I internally shake myself. Carys, snap out of it. They're merely incredible peepers. Focus.
"First, let's get something straight: I'm not your girl." His smile widens as he leans in. I subtly move back, not wanting to give the impression that I'm weak, moments away from being a hot puddle of desire. "What can I get you?"
"The usual." His tone is like an intimate caress between lovers.
Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him as heat creeps into my cheeks. Yes, I do know what his usual is, and I hate how he's using our past, our familiarity, to manipulate me and weaken my resolve. That's the problem with trying to protect my heart, or the bit of it I have left-he knows exactly how to get at it.
///
"Van." I lob back my own well-aimed shot and he grimaces, like he's tasted something sour. "Cut it out. Your burger will be up in fifteen, go find a table."
"I want to sit here."
"Seriously?"
"You said we could be friends, so I want to get reacquainted with my friend. Besides, we need to talk."
"Fine, but I can't talk now."
"Then when?"
"I don't know."
I do want to hear what he has to say, but now is not the time or the place. I take up residence at the other end of the bar, chatting with customers until his lunch is ready. All the while, he watches me with a lazy grin and a playful glint in his eye. Whenever our eyes meet, he waves or chuckles, thoroughly enjoying this.
"Here you go." I place his plate in front of him, then turn to leave.
He grabs my wrist and I freeze, goosebumps erupting along my arm.
"What?" I glare over my shoulder at where his hand is snuggly wrapped around my skin. His thumb softly strokes my hand and messes with my insides.
"Please stay, talk to me." His voice is needy.
"Van, now is not the time."
"Please, stop calling me Van."
"Why? It's what your friends call you. Aren't I your friend?"
Chuckling, he releases me and nods. "Yeah, but you and I both know that until now, you've never called me Van. I'm Evan to you, and I like it that way."
"I don't care what you like."
A part of me is filled with unease at my barb, but I'm also hurt and angry. He left me, broke my heart.
"Fair enough." His voice is low, resigned.
I turn away, sinking into the dark memory of the fateful day we ended. A phone call was all it took, ending it all without any real explanation.
My phone rings, and I glance at the screen: the number's blocked. Without hesitation, I answer. With Evan on assignment, he could call at any time of day or night, and the numbers are almost always blocked or unknown.
"Hello?" Hopeful anticipation laces my voice. We haven't spoken in weeks and when he left, something felt wrong. His departure was abrupt and his explanation more vague than usual. I've been anxiously awaiting his call or some contact, or even better, his return.
"Carys." His tone is flat and there's no sweetness in it.
It's not unusual that he says Carys; while he rarely uses my given name, he has on occasion. What's weird is the coldness in his voice.
"Hi." I push past the alarm, just happy that it's him. "How are you?"
"Listen, things have changed. It's over."
"Really? That's great. When are you coming home?"
"No." His voice is hard and short, and I realize I misunderstood. He wasn't talking about the assignment. "We're over. Know that you deserve only the best in the world, and I'm not the guy to give that to you. I'm not coming back, and don't wait."
"What?" The shrieking pitch of my voice startles me; my heart stutters. Each word out of his mouth is like a kick to my sternum and a vicious stomp on my heart. "You can't do this. We love each other. I'll wait for you. I don't care how long it will take."
"You're not listening," he says. "It's over. I'm not coming back and don't look for me. I might not make it back from this mission, and if I do, I won't be coming back to you. Tell Ry not to look for me. It's over. We're over."