Page 5 of Silent Cravings

EVAN

You would think those skyscraper heels of hers would make her walk slower. Instead, I had to practically run to keep up with Valentina as she left the Chinese place and crossed the street without looking back to make sure I was with her.

“Hold up!” I called out when it looked like she was entering her building without waiting for me to get through the door, which would lock automatically once it closed.

She was drunk, maybe not fall-down drunk, but just enough to slur her words. Otherwise, she didn’t miss a step, crossing the tile lobby in a distractingly short skirt and jabbing a finger against the button to call the elevator. Her phone was in her other hand, and her thumb moved over the screen like lightning.

“What’s so important this time on a Saturday night?” I asked, leaning in to check her screen. Really, I was trying to thaw the ice that had formed between us in the car. I had to do something to break through the wall she put around her.

She snatched the phone away from my view, holding itclose to her chest. A nice chest, a chest it took serious self-control not to stare at on a regular basis.

Tonight, there was a nice bit of cleavage showing thanks to a low-cut shirt. Me being so much taller than her didn’t hurt either.

“None of your busi-nesss,” she retorted with a little slur at the end, tossing her rich, brown waves over her shoulder before glaring at me with familiar, sapphire blue eyes. “You might have convinced me to eat with you, but that doesn’t mean you get to read my messages.”

“Excuse me. I didn’t know you were exchanging secrets with somebody.”

“If you must know, I’m typing out a list of things I need to do for the wedding. Rose said something about wanting to move it up so she’s not too far along with the baby.” She kept typing, staring down at the phone while her shiny pink nails moved over the screen.

The baby.

Say something, you dumb fuck.But what? That was the thing. The time to say something was ten years ago. Ever since then, every hour we’d spent together pushed us a little further apart. Like two boats drifting in opposite directions. By now, she was so far away she might have been a dot on the horizon.

Sorry, I totally fucked up when you told me about the baby? Sorry it scared the shit out of me, and I was too fucking young and stupid to know what to say?Hell, who was I kidding? If somebody came to me right now, this very minute, and told me they were pregnant with my kid, I would probably shit my pants. Kids were no more part of my life plan now than they were when I was eighteen and about to start college.

There were still no answers by the time we reached one of the building’s upper floors. The doors opened to thedimly lit hallway of what used to be a warehouse but had been converted to loft apartments somewhere along the way.

As always, on entering the loft, I admired the exposed brick and the open, spacious feeling. The living room was two stories high with a metal staircase leading up to an open suite which, last I knew, Valentina used as her bedroom and home office. The first floor was composed of the living room plus an open kitchen, a small dining area with a powder room beyond it, and a corner of the floor devoted to a reading nook.

It was one thing I always liked about her. She had her wild days when we were kids, and she busted her ass building a business out of nothing, but in her downtime, she liked to curl up in an overstuffed chair and read while surrounded by houseplants. I couldn’t remember the last time I met a woman who could talk about books. The latest social media trends, sure, but not books.

“I think I’m going to go up and get changed.” She kicked off her heels, knocking a few inches off her still-tall frame. She left them where they landed and waved a hand as she climbed the stairs. “Just put the food out wherever. Help yourself to a drink if you want.”

Not exactly five-star hospitality, but I didn’t expect it. It was enough just being with her again.

The breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the living room seemed like as good of a place as any to eat, so I arranged the containers on the quartz countertop before hunting in the kitchen for sriracha and soy sauce, forks, and water for Valentina. She would need it after downing those martinis.

She wasn’t exactly being sneaky back there about gulping down anything she could get her hands on. At least,that was how it looked to me whenever I glanced her way, more often than I should have.

It hurt her earlier. She may as well have written the words on her forehead. And why not? Hell, I thought about her as soon as the wordbabywas mentioned. Thinking back, I couldn’t remember exactly why. People had babies all the time. I couldn’t walk down the street without sidestepping a stroller.

I had wanted to push Lucian out of the way and wrap my arms around her. Why? Maybe because she looked like somebody kicked her hard. Because it had been ten years since I saw her with the same pained strain across her beautiful face.

And, of course, I was the asshole who made her look that way the first time.

Maybe a drink wasn’t a bad idea. At the party, I had taken it pretty easy, sticking to a couple of glasses of scotch. I found a bottle in the kitchen and poured a modest amount into a glass before adding cubes from the freezer.

Valentina had changed into soft cotton shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. Incredible the way changing clothes and hair could take years off a woman’s age. Her feet were bare, her long, brown locks in a bun on top of her head by the time she padded down the stairs.

How the hell was she hotter this way than she was before? Softer, more real somehow. My mouth went dry, and I had to look away from her before she saw the yearning written across my face.

“Is this a hint?” She picked up the bottle of water I had left on the counter.

I could only handle so much sarcasm before my patience wore thin. “Yeah. Drink some damn water. Eatsome food.” I shoved a paper-wrapped eggroll her way. “Grease helps too.”

“You’d think this was the first time I ever drank,” she muttered. “Besides, I didn’t have all that much. I wasn’t feeling well, and it was an excuse to get out of there.” She peeled the wax paper away from the eggroll and took a bite before adding a packet of duck sauce.

Why did she feel the need to lie? Like anybody with eyes couldn’t tell she’d been actively trying to get wasted, which wasn’t like her.

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