Unfaithful (29 page)

“A little,” I said, shrugging.

“What do you want to eat?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a cheese pizza,” I said. This was confirmed by a low grumble in my stomach even though I’d just inhaled a double scoop of Ben and Jerry’s two hours ago. What could I do? I wanted more.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he said, amused. “You would never turn down a cheese pizza.”

“How could anyone turn down a cheese pizza?” I said.

A laugh escaped Evan as he parked outside Bazzi’s Pizza on Main Street and turned off the engine. In the silence that followed, he propped his left elbow against the steering wheel, leaned toward me, and stroked my cheek with his right hand. His eyes turned serious again as he returned to our discussion of a moment ago. “Never underestimate yourself, Gemma.” I shook my head, ready to contradict him, but he rested a finger on my lips, preventing me from speaking. “There’s something special about you. I think I understood that the first time I saw you,” he whispered, staring at my lips. “Something extraordinary that makes me lose control. I’d never met anyone with such power over me,” he whispered.

“The only thing I have that’s extraordinary is you. There’s nothing special about me,” I mumbled, looking at the dashboard.

“If you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d realize you’re like a diamond in a pile of broken glass. The fact that you don’t realize it makes you sparkle even brighter in comparison.”

I continued to shake my head in disagreement. Evan sought my gaze and drew closer. “You have so many things inside you; you just need to let them out.” He stroked my chin.

“Don’t expect so much from me, Evan. I’m afraid you may end up disappointed,” I warned. His eyes narrowed on me as if I’d just said something unacceptable. “No one can know better than me what’s inside you. Not even you,” he replied confidently.

I blushed. “Okay,” I said, embarrassed. “Too many compliments make me dizzy.”

“I think it’s just hunger,” he said, getting out of the car. A moment later he was looking in through my window, his hands resting on the roof. “Was it me or did I hear your stomach grumble a minute ago?” he said, grinning. Instinctively I rested my hand on my belly. I’d hoped he hadn’t heard it. “What’s it been, two hours since you last ate? How on earth do you stay in such good shape?”

“I don’t eat
that
much,” I said sheepishly.

“Wha—You don’t eat that much?” he repeated, looking astonished.

“It’s just—I eat often and my metabolism is fast,” I stammered, to Evan’s amusement. Still smiling, he walked away from the car. Through the rearview mirror I watched him head toward the pizzeria, a white stone building on the corner, until he disappeared behind the big red awnings. I switched on the radio and sank back into my seat while from the street came the chatter of people dining on the balcony of Generations, the restaurant across from Bazzi’s. The melodious voice of Evanescence’s Amy Lee filled the car. The CD was still in the player from the last time we’d gone camping.

I was just beginning to lose myself in the notes of
Hello
when an uneasy shiver crept across my skin. A frightful sensation. Cold.

Again.

Alarmed, I scanned the street. The sensation came again and I recognized it as it ran over my neck. It was an old feeling, as familiar as it was bone chilling: someone was watching me.

I peered around nervously, leaning over to get a better look around the Northwoods Inn sign and the tree-lined parking lot. Everything looked normal. As I checked out the cars my heart began to pump at an accelerated rate. The blood throbbed in my veins, agitating my breathing as my panic mounted.

“You okay?”

Evan’s voice made me jump in my seat. Consumed by the fear that had returned to torture me over the last few days, I hadn’t even noticed he’d walked back to the car. As he closed the door, I sank back in my seat and forced myself to breathe, my skin still cold and clammy. “That was fast,” I said, not answering his question.

Evan flashed me a smile and pulled a French fry from the pizza box. “I can be convincing,” he said with his sensual grin. “I had them put fries on it, just the way you like it.” He raised an eyebrow.

“You trying to bribe me?” I said accusingly, returning his gaze. My panic had subsided.

Evan laughed. “If I wanted to do that I’d definitely be on the right track.”

I lowered my eyes, embarrassed. What was he insinuating? “Yeah,” I admitted, “pizza with fries works wonders with me—can’t deny that.” I lifted the lid and inhaled the aroma that instantly filled the car. The pizza box warmed my lap as I took out a big, piping-hot slice dripping with cheese. “Where are we going?” I asked, checking the clock on the dashboard. “It’s almost seven.”

“I promised Ginevra I’d take a look at her car.” Evan raised a finger to his temple and twirled it. “If I don’t she’ll go out of her mind, and who can stand her when that happens?”

“Why doesn’t she fix it herself? She’s a Witch, she should be able to do it.”

“Who said she couldn’t?” he asked, glancing at me. “She likes having me as her mechanic, and deep down I don’t mind being the only one who puts his hands on her engine.”

“Your hands are amazing on anything.”

“Is that so?” he whispered, a big grin on his face.

Oh my God. I thought I’d only said it in my mind!
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.

He tilted his head to look at me with his hands resting on the steering wheel, his smile seductive. “On anything in particular?” His voice had softened.

I decided to play along. “On me, for example.”

“This is getting interesting.”

“On my neck in particular, if you really want to know.” It was the truth and I hadn’t been able to hold it back. Feeling his hand on my neck always made me tremble.

Evan stopped the car in his driveway and immediately leaned toward me. He extended his hand, slowly drawing lines of fire on my skin. “Like this?” he whispered, slipping his fingers through my hair to my nape. A shiver of pure energy spread down my back, giving me goosebumps. God, the feeling made my head spin. I half closed my eyes, my body quivering, his face close to mine. “Exactly,” I whispered, swallowing. His hot breath tickled my ear.

“And what do you say”—he gently slid his fingers across my skin—“if I move my hand like this?” He brought his fingers to the base of my neck.

“Perfect,” I murmured.

He slowly brushed his thumb across my lips, igniting in me the yearning for his mouth, barely an inch away. Evan’s cheek moved over mine, brushing my skin, and I let myself be swept away by the sensations. He raised his chin slightly and our lips touched. I parted mine, seeking contact, but Evan lingered, keeping his a fraction of an inch from me, limiting himself to light, fleeting touches.

I took a deep breath and lifted my own chin higher. His kiss was sweet, his lips full and soft as his fingers moved again to my neck, seeking shelter in my hair, filling my body with shivers.

“Now it’s your turn,” I whispered, not completely sure I’d regained control of myself. “You have to tell me something you like,” I said to arouse him.

“That’s easy.” He took my hand and rested it on his chest over his heart. “I like it when you put your hand here.” His voice was a low murmur as if someone might hear us.

“I do that all the time,” I said, realizing it only then.

“True. And whenever you do it takes me back—back to when I kissed you for the first time, thinking it would be the last,” he confessed. “I was desperate at the thought of giving you up. Feeling your hand on me devastated me. It made something explode inside me, an untamable fire.” Evan squeezed my hand against his chest.

“Has that changed?” I asked under my breath.

“Never,” he said firmly. “I feel the same emotion every time.” I rested my forehead against his and touched his lips with my own. “We’d better go before your pizza gets cold,” he said. He vanished and reappeared a second later, opening my door and holding out a hand to help me down, since the seats of the SUV were quite a bit higher than those of the other cars.

“Wait for me in the garage. I’ll be right back.” Evan headed toward the front door, leaving me outside. I nodded and walked around the corner, my eyes on the dark path.

The garage was in the left wing next to the kitchen’s huge picture window and had two massive doors in dark wood. On the opposite side, another picture window revealed the vast room downstairs that housed the swimming pool.

Something made me look up, a fleeting movement behind the thick patch of trees beyond the path. It was too fast for me to see what it was. My heart constricted as a dark figure darted toward me and halted a few steps away. I gasped and dropped the pizza box from my trembling fingers.

“Mmm . . . pizza!” someone exclaimed, catching the box an instant before it hit the ground, opening it, and taking out a slice.

“Drake! You think it’s funny, scaring me like that? Do you want to give me a heart attack?” I scolded him, my voice shaking. “Can’t you show up like everyone else?” I said scornfully as my voice grew steadier and my knees stopped knocking.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re out here in the dark all alone,” he shot back, arching an eyebrow. His dark gaze sharpened on mine, almost as if he wanted to probe my thoughts. It was the first time his eyes had studied me like this and part of me felt seriously uncomfortable.

My instinct told me there was something different about him though I couldn’t put my finger on it—it was something beyond my understanding. “Are you letting your hair grow out?” I asked bluntly.

The question seemed to confuse him. “Nope, it’s the same as always,” he said. On closer inspection I realized he was right. It must have been something else.

“Evan’s not around?” he asked, avoiding my searching look. I suddenly got a feeling of déjà vu.

“I’m right here,” Evan said behind me. “Where’ve you been, Drake?”

“Here and there. Slaughtering souls as always.” Drake winked at me and I shuddered. “Where else would I be?” He shrugged as if we were chatting about the weather.

“Watch how you talk in front of her,” Evan warned.

“Hey, chill. I’ve had a lot on my plate recently. That better?” He threw me a surly look and then looked back at Evan. “Were you looking for me or something?”

“No. I didn’t want to interrupt you in your—um, interrupt what you were doing.” Evan also cast me a grim glance. It was clear what he meant and he was trying to talk his way around the subject to avoid upsetting me.

Drake shrugged again. “Just carrying out orders. We have no choice,” he said, his eyes fixed on his brother’s.

“Yeah, as if I didn’t you know better than that.”

Drake spread his arms. “Have you been drinking?” I asked him, smelling Scotch on his breath.

He narrowed his eyes and held up his hand, the thumb and forefinger an inch apart. Looking at me through the space between them, he said, “Just a little.”

“You’d better go freshen up,” Evan told him, grinning. “You’re always a mess when you drink.” Drake burst out laughing as he turned to go, his hands clasped behind his head, while Evan and I headed to the garage, following the path that skirted the house. Something made me turn around. I saw that Drake was still looking at me, his face more serious than I’d ever seen it. I stared back for a second and squeezed Evan’s hand, suddenly uncomfortable. Seemingly without effort, Evan raised one of the two garage doors and lowered it again behind us.

“Has Drake always been alone?” I asked point-blank, a thread of bitterness running through my voice.

Evan frowned at me, surprised by my question. “Why do you ask?”

I struggled to find a more acceptable word than the one that had come to mind:
excluded
. “I think he might feel a little . . . lonely.”

“What makes you say that?” Evan didn’t sound convinced.

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. I get the impression he’s changed a little lately too. Haven’t you realized it?”

“What do you mean, exactly?” he asked with a puzzled look as he laid out his tools on the workbench.

“It’s like all the life’s gone out of him. He barely ever hangs out with us and when he does it’s almost like he’s not really there. I don’t recognize him any more, he’s like a different person.” Evan listened carefully, a surprised look on his face. “So yeah, I think he might feel lonely. I mean, you and Simon both have someone, but he’s all alone.”

“He has us,” Evan said innocently.

“It’s not the same. You had them too before you found me.”

Finally he seemed to understand. “I’d never thought of that. So you think he’s jealous?”

“Hmm. Jealous might be overdoing it, but yeah, I think being constantly surrounded by couples might make him feel left out. It’s just a theory,” I was quick to add.

“Ginevra would have realized it,” he said, thinking aloud.

“If I’m right, that might be why Drake’s been avoiding her, like she said. Maybe he doesn’t want her to know how he feels.”

“What’s made you think all this?” Evan asked thoughtfully.

“His face,” I said. “The way he was looking at me tonight was odd.”

“What do you mean?” I didn’t know if it was a good idea to tell Evan everything Drake’s look had made me feel. “What kind of look did he give you?” he insisted, as if sensing my hesitation to explain further.

“Well, if I didn’t know Drake was your brother, I would have said there was a bit of slyness in his eyes. Like he was, kind of . . . coming on to me.” It had sounded better in my head. Saying it out loud made me feel like such an idiot.

Evan burst out laughing. “That’s crazy! Drake would never think of you that way.” Then his expression changed as if he were considering the idea seriously for the first time. “He’s my brother. It’s ridiculous.” He shook his head to drive off the suspicion.

“You’re right. I don’t know how I could have thought something like that,” I admitted sheepishly. “It really is ridiculous.”
Please God, let the earth open and swallow me up.
If only I could go back in time and erase that last embarrassing moment.

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Evan said, his tone serious.