Page 49 of Whiskey Kisses

“It’s cool, I promise,” he says, patting my arm as he passes by. “I’m so tired I’m about to pass out. Happy birthday, Evie.”

Finn and Timmy smoke with us for a few more minutes before they too head inside. Pouting, I look at Tristan. “I chased them all away, didn’t I?”

He laughs quietly, the burning cherry of his joint momentarily illuminating his face. “Oh, Evie.”

“What?” I poke his arm, feeling like I’m missing something. “Are you gonna abandon me, too?”

“Never.”

My chest tightens, and I lean back, staring up at the sky. Cloudskeep passing over the moon, dipping us in and out of complete darkness.

“Did you have a good birthday?” Tristan asks, outing the joint.

“I did.” Rising from the lounge chair, I look out over the railing. It’s so dark, there’s not much to see. In the daytime there’s a wooded area, the street on the other side just visible through the trees. And then the beach. Sometimes, like now, the wind carries the faint smell of salt. “The best in a long time.”

“Really?” I can almost feel him looking at me in the dark. “I’m glad. I still wish I’d known, though.”

The wind kicks up, sprinkling goosebumps over my skin. It’s beginning to get a little cooler at night. “Well, now you know. Besides, what would you have done differently?”

“I don’t know, but I would’ve donesomething. You deserve it.” He comes to stand beside me, leaning his elbows on the railing.

I smile, my cheeks warming at his words. “Having you here is good enough for me.” The admission hangs in the air between us like smoke.Shit. I stare straight ahead, nauseated at the possibility that I've revealed too much. “I mean, you—you’ve done enough. More than you ever needed to.”

“Evie,” he says softly, like he knows. God,doeshe know?

“You’re a good guy,” I blurt, wishing I hadn’t smoked after all. Not if I’m going to make a fool of myself. As if Tristan hasn’t seen that enough—me looking like an idiot. How many times, when we were kids, did Maribelle humiliate me in front of him? How many times did I humiliate myself?

“You know you deserve to be happy, right? Truly happy.” His voice is smooth and quiet, like velvet against my ears. I shiver, wishing I could feel his voice even closer. “Don’t just settle for shit.”

My breath catches in my throat. “What are you saying?”

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingertips brushing my skin. “You deserve someone who really sees you.”

I swallow hard, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Do you? See me?”

Tristan pauses long enough that I’m tempted to throw myself over the railing. “Yeah, I see you,” he says, so quietly I could’ve imagined it.

I don’t know what he means or how he means it, but I do know that we’re in a different place than we were when all of this began. Turning, Ipull him into a hug. His arms come around me, and he rests his cheek on top of my head. We stay that way for a long time, just hugging, nothing but the sound of crickets chirping, the wind in the trees.

After a moment, I pull back so I can look at him. He brings his gaze to mine, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me. And then I just don’t care anymore. It’s my birthday, and there’s only one thing I want. Rising to my toes, I brush my lips against his. His arms loosen from around me, and then his hands drop to my hips. He squeezes like he’s unsure, and then his lips press firmly against mine.

I grasp his shirt, pulling him against me as the kiss deepens. He grabs my face, licking into my mouth with hot, hungry kisses. But then, as quickly as it started, it ends. Tristan pulls away, putting a few steps between us. “We can’t do this,” he grits out, breathing heavily.

Oh, God. What did I do?Tristan said one nice thing to me and I laid it all out on the line, showing my soft underbelly. I’m no better than I was in high school, giving in to Cole because I was desperate for attention and approval. For love. Shame cuts through me like an icy wind, chilling me to the bone, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

Tristan married me for one reason, and it wasn’t because he was in love with me or even attracted to me. I know his type, and it ain’t me. It could never be me.

My throat closes on the salt of my tears. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, edging around him. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Evie,” he says sharply.

I let myself back inside, careful to slide the door shut before racing through the darkened living room. Everything blurs once I’m in the safety of my room, and I fall face-first onto the bed, allowing my pillow to absorb my quiet sobs.

Something sharp pokes my face, and I roll over, rubbing my cheek. It’s a little bouquet of pink origami lilies, complete with green stems. I pick it up, my heart in my throat, and examine the beautifully intricate folds. Written across one of the stems, in Tristan’s neat, blocky print, it says,Happy Birthday Evie.

15.Tristan

After taking the longest piss of my life, I wash my hands and dry them, listening for sounds of life from Evie’s side. We share a bathroom, but we rarely run into each other here. She can be skittish, so I suspect she avoids it when I’m around. I glance at my phone. It’s almost eleven. I slept way later than usual, but that’s because we were up until four thirty, drinking and smoking. Honestly, I could use a few more hours of sleep, but my thoughts won’t stop.

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