Evan looked at Julian suspiciously.
“I filled him in,” Micah confessed calmly, not feeling the least bit guilty because he’d told Julian all about Evan’s past and his attachment to Miranda Tyler. After all, it was family business.
“I was fucking afraid to tell her,” Evan rasped, jerking at his collar, only to have the buttonless shirt he was now wearing open wider. “It’s hot in here.”
It wasn’t warm at all in the bar, but Micah suspected it was the whiskey that Evan was slugging down causing his hot flashes. “Hope told you to tell her,” Micah reminded him.
“I couldn’t. I was afraid she’d dump me. And I was getting more uncensored information as her friend on the Internet than I was in person.”
“You talked about yourself to her via email? And she didn’t know it was you, but you knew exactly who she was?” Julian asked, obviously trying to verify what he was hearing.
“Yes.” Evan slumped back in his chair.
“You’re an asshole,” Micah and Julian said in tandem.
Evan threw both of them a furious look from across the wooden table. “I thought you said you were going to help me.”
“That was before we knew you did something so stupid. Jesus, Evan. Why couldn’t you just listen to Hope? She might be your sister, but she’s also a female. You betrayed Randi’s trust. There’s no getting around that.” Micah wondered how someone as smart as Evan could be so clueless when it came to relationships.
I may not be an expert, but I know better than to lie to a woman. They always find out the truth, and it’s never good when they do.
Micah had never been in Evan’s predicament. In fact, he’d been the one who had been shafted. He’d tried a serious relationship once, and his supposed fiancée had ended up sleeping with, and eventually marrying, his best friend. He hadn’t tried having another exclusive relationship since.
Evan slammed his empty glass on the table. “I know I kept the truth from her. But I was going to tell her.”
Micah looked at Julian and caught him grinning. “Don’t piss him off,” he warned. “He’s already going off the deep end.” He spoke just loud enough for Julian to hear him.
“I know. I can’t help myself. I can hardly believe this is our Evan,” Julian said in a low voice, still smirking as he looked across the table at his cousin. “He doesn’t get rattled about anything, but right now he looks completely destroyed. I feel sorry for him, but it’s really just a little bit scary to see him looking this way. And it’s all happening because of a female.” Julian shook his head.
Micah knew what Julian was thinking, but he also knew Evan was hurting . . . bad. The guy did look like somebody had taken him to hell and back, and that was so not like Evan. He rarely had a lock of hair out of place, and he wore his custom suits without a single wrinkle. It was pretty shocking to see that a woman had reduced him to his current state.
Turning back in Evan’s direction, Micah questioned, “When were you going to tell her? She probably thinks you were playing her.”
“That’s what she said,” Evan agreed, nodding his head.
Bingo! That was a problem. Once you burned a female by lying, she never forgot about it. Micah knew Evan hadn’t intended to be deceptive, but it had looked that way because he was totally clueless.
The female bartender interrupted their conversation, taking Julian’s empty bottle and putting down a fresh napkin with a full beer on top.
“Thanks, Red,” Julian told her with a wink.
Micah recognized her. If he remembered correctly, her name was Kristin Moore. He’d met her at both Dante’s and Jared’s weddings. “I know you. I thought you were a medical assistant at Sarah’s office,” he said, wondering why she was bartending here.
The curvy redhead nodded at him curtly, and then glared at Julian. “My name is Kristin, not Red. I hate that nickname, and if you say it again, I’ll show you the door. But not before I put your balls in your throat, superstar,” she told him irritably, then turned to Micah with a kinder gaze. “I do work for Sarah, but my parents wanted to go to the ball. I’m filling in for them tonight. I work here in the evenings fairly often.”
“Cinderella couldn’t make it to the ball,” Julian teased, unable to resist.
“I didn’t want to go,” she answered defensively.
“Of course you did,” he shot back. “It’s the event of the winter season here in Amesport.”