Page 41 of SALT

Her eyes are on me, but her focus is not. The blankness I see there tells me she's a million miles away.

I clear my throat and turn my attention back to Stormy. I don't have a reason to dislike Lauren aside from the fact that we're after the same man, but I also don't care to get all chummy either. "You said you assumed we were the same age… give it up."

"Oh, I'm twenty-three."

Lauren barely touched her food. She has only taken one bite when she closes her box and straightens her dress. "I have a call I need to hop on. You guys will have to finish without me."

She's two steps away from the door when Stormy says, "You never said if I could borrow the car or not."

With her hand on the door frame, she turns back, her forehead pinched, her eyes still elsewhere. "Sure."

Lauren exits, and Stormy turns back to me. "She never lets me borrow the car. Maybe she's into Everett after all. Brownie points for schmoozing over his best friend's daughter."

Great. I needed to eat something, and now I've lost my appetite.

Igot a lot of shit done today and I'm exhausted, but where going home usually makes me happy, right now, it feels like a boulder sitting on my chest. It doesn't help that I haven't crossed paths with Everett since I walked out. I still need to settle on exactly how I feel. I have things in motion. I have a plan, one that still includes him. I've loved blindly for too long, and maybe that was selfish. When I love, I chase after it with my whole heart because, to me, that's what love does; it pursues blindly, without end. But I'm also learning to guard my own heart.

I wish my travel trailer were here. I ordered it this morning and it won't arrive for two weeks. I plan to put it on my lake property so I have my own place to go, and it will be nice to be on-site and available during construction. "Two weeks," I repeat as I blow out a long breath and look up to click the unlock button on my Audi as I cross the parking lot, only for my eyes to connect with Everett's. God, how is it that even when I'm hurt and mad as hell, he still makes me weak in the knees?

When I reach the car, he doesn't move off the driver's side door. He stays still and resolute, as though it's his right to be there.

"Can we talk?"

"It would appear you're not really giving me a choice in the matter," I say as I gesture toward my door. The corner of his perfect mouth quirks up just a hint, and I think he's about to speak, but he doesn't. Instead, his eyes stay locked on mine with a stare that feels new. It makes my heart skip a beat and my palms grow sweaty. I'm not doing this again. He did this to me when he told me he didn't want me riding home with Nash. I thought we'd actually talk, but all I got was his silence. Sometimes silence can speak a hundred sentiments, but sometimes it's just silence, and I'm done with it. "Everett, I think it's a little late to talk. The time for talking has passed?—"

"I told you what happened between us wasn't going to change anything," he says as the softness on his face is replaced with pinched lips and frown lines.

"We both know that's bullshit. If you didn't want anything to change, you shouldn't have done it. You knew, Everett." I hold his eyes, daring him to tell me I'm wrong.

"I know," he admits, which has me shocked. He's not giving me any lip service or trying to say something without saying anything at all. It may only be two words, but they are two big words. They are an admission.

"Tell me what that means, Everett."

"It means I'm fearless, Cameron. I've always gone through the motions in every aspect of my life, doing what needed to be done without worrying about the consequences. They never mattered. Losing never scared me, but that's not the case anymore." He looks away and angrily runs his hand over his beard.

"You just said you were fearless."

Those onyx eyes return and pierce mine. "Except when it comes to you." There's a slight stutter as he pulls in his next breath, and then he says, "You scare me, Cameron. You scare me more than anything ever has, but in that fear, I've never felt more alive."

The damn organ in my chest feels like it might give out any second, it's beating so fucking fast. Is this real life? Did he just admit to having feelings for me? He did, but he didn't at the same time. I mean, he said I scared him. He didn't say I want you, and he led this entire conversation by saying "I told you what happened between us didn't change anything."

"Where does that leave us?"

He puts his hands in his pockets. "Have dinner with me at the house. I'll cook."

I want to say yes, but I can't, not when his ask reminds me of the dinner date I interrupted.

"Did you fuck her?"

"No," comes out fast.

"Touch her?"

He crosses his arms. "I just told you I didn't fuck her."

"That doesn't mean you didn't touch her," I quirk a brow.

"I'm telling you, I didn't fuck her or touch her."

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