Page 51 of Ewan

I feel avenged.

Ewan drops him, and Joachim falls to the ground before my new friend grabs him again and starts rifling through the contents of his inside pocket.

Eventually, Ewan pulls out my birth certificate and hands it to me, not taking his eyes from the man twisted into a pretzel at his feet.

I’m not advocating for this, but Joachim really worked hard at having his ass handed to him like this.

“Now apologize to the lady, and get lost before I change my mind and crack your little skull for fun,” Ewan says, the bad energy he harbored earlier this evening coming through.

Something fuels his restlessness, and maybe one day, I’ll find out what it is.

Joachim pushes up and tugs at his jacket to bring it back in place.

“Apologize to her, I said,” Ewan mutters under his breath, menacing as ever. “Look at her and apologize, you stupid dick.”

“I’m sorry, Scarlett. I’ll be on my way now.”

I only nod.

None of this would’ve happened had he not tried to be funny.

He gets the hint and quickly moves away, not even glancing at Ewan.

Moments later, the street is clear, and we stare at the sidewalks.

Ewan doesn’t look at me. I notice he’s slipping away.

Despite being as cold as I am and wanting to return inside, I hug myself and look at him, waiting for him to make up his mind.

“I need to go,” he says quietly, looking away as if talking to himself.

I say nothing, barely keeping my teeth from chattering. He turns his beautiful eyes to me, and it swiftly registers with him that I’m a shivering mess.

A couple of steps put him in front of me before his arms come around me to bring me warmth.

“Yeah?” he asks as if I have a say in him staying or not.

“Okay.” My jaw hurts. “Thank you for everything,” I mumble.

“No, no,” he says in a friendlier tone. “Thank you for putting up with me. I was an asshole this evening,” he adds in his gruff voice. “Go get warm,” he says before doing the unthinkable.

He leans closer and brushes his lips over my cheek when I tilt my head to him, and our lips touch.

His touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, a memory quickly forming, the aroma of coffee and mint entangled in his breath.

We stay there for a second, unsure of what to do. It’s not a good idea to kiss, or do anything else.

We’ve been debating this verbally and non verbally the entire evening. He doesn’t want me, and I don’t want him, even when his erection is involved.

But we’re not pulling away.

We allow our lips to touch and proceed to kiss like two schoolers who have this experience for the first time, and they are alight with curiosity and fear.

His hand slides to my neck when he kisses me again.

Soft and clean, our kiss has nothing sexual in it, although a wave of sexual frustrations is rising in my frame.

It falls into an abyss as the man peels away from me and, without saying another word, walks to his truck, hops in, and soon after, moves away.

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