Page 17 of When Alec Met Evie
I freeze, dropping the bag and letting it fall back onto the seat. “What about him?”
“I don’t know the details. Just that he’s no longer a part ofThe Great Gatsbycast.”
“What? Who told you that?”
“I ran into Gina on campus the other day. She says hey, by the way.”
“What did she say about Devon?”
“Not much, honestly,” Megan says. “But if I’m reading between the lines, I kinda got the sense he screwed up pretty big and was fired.”
I breathe out a sigh. It isn’t that surprising that I haven’t heard anything about Devon. I make a pretty conscious effort to stayoutof the loop when it comes to my ex-husband. But losing a coveted Broadway role when he worked so hard to get one in the first place doesn’t really track with what I know about him.
“Did Gina want you to tell me?” I ask. “Is that why she brought it up?”
Gina was definitely more Devon’s friend than mine, though she was more sympathetic during the divorce drama than a lot of our other friends.
“I don’t know,” Megan says. “She didn’t really say one way or the other. I’m sorry for mentioning it. I just thought you might want to know.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you did. Thanks.”
“Call me tomorrow?” Megan says.
“Yep. Love you, Meg.”
I end the call and pocket my phone before hoisting the duffel onto my shoulder and knocking the car door closed with my hip.
Whatever Gina’s intention in telling Megan about Devon, he made it clear when we divorced that he wouldn’t worry about me. Which means I’m not going to worry abouthimeither.
Alec meets me when I’m halfway up the sidewalk, lifting the bag from my shoulder and carrying it the rest of the way. I frown as I watch him walk. I could be wrong, but he looks like he’s favoring his right knee. I don’t remember noticing anything when we were unloading all my furniture which makes me suddenly worry he somehow injured himself. Especially after the way his teammates teased him.
I’m deep in a narrative in which Alec’s hockey career is over and it’s all my fault and he’ll never forgive me much less speak tome again when I realize Alec has said something and is waiting for me to respond.
I scour my brain for the words I know I heard but clearly didn’t process, but I come up empty. “Sorry, what was that?” I ask. “I spaced there for a second.”
Alec lifts an eyebrow. “I just asked about your conversation with Megan.”
“Oh! It was good. Great. She’s worried about her pharmacology exam.” It’s a true response, even if we only talked about pharmacology for the first two minutes, then spent the rest of our conversation talking about him.
He nods knowingly. “Sounds about right. I don’t know why she worries so much. She always does great.”
“That’s what I tell her!” I say, making a mental note to circle back to Alec’s leg. Even if it’s something minor, I’ll feel terrible if he hurt himself on my account. “Still, I’m glad you were around today because otherwise, Megan would have flown down here herself, and then I’d never hear the end of her stressing over the school she’d miss as a result.”
Alec pauses in his open front doorway and looks back, shooting me a warm grin. “You know my sister well.”
I think of the expression on Megan’s face as she gripped my hand through the last hour of Juno’s delivery. “I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through the last few months without her.”
Alec holds my gaze for a long moment, his brown eyes flashing with something I can’t quite read. “Megan is great,” he says, “but I watched you today. Something tells me you’d be okay no matter what.”
We move into the entryway, where Juno is still sitting in her carrier, awake now, her little feet kicking as she happily sucks on her pacifier.
I huff out a laugh. “I’m sorry, were we at the same house today? Pretty sure if not for you and Ruth, I’d still be sitting on my front steps crying over the missing porch swing.”
He moves and closes the front door, stepping close enough that I feel the warmth of him as he reaches past me. “Your house is supposed to have a porch swing?”
I shrug. “It did in the pictures. But it feels dumb to worry about that now.”
He pushes his hands into his pockets and looks down at me. He’s standing close enough for me to see the specks of gold in his brown eyes. He smells good, manly and woodsy and a little musky. “It’s not dumb,” he says softly.
