Page 86 of Someone Like Me
I mean, I love Grandma Q. God knows I do. But I’m onto her. I trust her to have my best interest at heart, at least what shethinksis my best interest, but I’d be a fool to think she isn’t always working some kind of grandmaternal angle. And Aunt Josie and Annie may not be as bad as she is in that category, but all they lack is experience.
That leaves Chip, Cody, and the guys at the garage. I’m grateful to my cousin and his buddy for the opportunities they are giving me, and the other employees at C&C are good guys, but I can’t say I’ve gotten to know any of them enough totrustthem.
So that leaves Evie. And I do trust her. With my secrets. With my friendship. And a hell of a lot more.
It’s me I don’t trust.
“I don’t get that,” I say, pulling my thoughts away from my merits. Or lack thereof. “How can they not trust you? You’re kind and considerate. And honest to a fault—”
Light laughter breaks through my little speech. Finally, her smile reaches her eyes. I keep hold of my own smile and pick up where I left off.
“You go out of your way to help other people, and you’re completely selfless,” I add with a shrug. “How could they not trust you?”
Wide-eyed wonder has replaced her smile. “You think I’m selfless?” Her voice is hushed with surprise.
I exhale a laugh. “Are you kidding me? Of course you are. You’re always offering to help me or Grandma.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of her house. “You went out with that Dirk dork—”
“Drake,” she corrects, fighting back a smile.
“Drake dork, whatever, even though you don’t like him—”
Her giggles peal through the apartment, making it a happier place than it has surely ever been.
“Of course you’re selfless,” I say again. But when I do, her giggles dissolve, and she just looks at me. I look back. And what I see is a mix in equal measure of doubt and hope. “What is it?” I ask her.
Evie’s eyes cast down again before she lifts them to mine. “But do you think I’m foolish? Incapable of taking care of myself?” Now, doubt has won over, ushering in misery in the corners of her eyes. Maybe even some fear.
The look is one I’ve never seen on her. And I hate it. Without even thinking about it, I grab the leg of her chair and drag her into my space. Her eyes widen a little in surprise.
“Where’s this coming from?”
She blinks at me, her guarded gaze shifting between my eyes. “That’s what this is all about. My family thinks I’m too naïve. Tooirresponsible,”she says, stressing the word with bitterness, “to make good life decisions.”
My shoulders brace, defenses at the ready. “Who said that? Tori?” My dislike for Evie’s sister grows by leaps and bounds as I watch dismay pull at her features.
But she gives a rapid shake of her head. “Not just Tori.” Her words come out in a rasp, and she swallows against emotion. “She and my parents apparently have felt this way for a while. They decided I wasn’t ready to live alone.”
I tuck my chin. “Like they tried to stop you from moving out?”
Evie shakes her head, but I watch in horror as her eyes fill with tears. The sight sparks a tiny but white hot flicker of rage low in my chest. No one. No one should make Evie cry.
“No…” Her bottom lip, the one that is now my favorite bottom lip in all the world, trembles. “They cut a deal with my sister to pay for her graduate school if she stayed at home with me until I ‘grew up a little.’” She makes air quotes with her fingers as she says this, and though she looks angry, the first tear splashes down her cheek. She doesn’t have to say it. This betrayal has devastated her.
Without even thinking, I take her hand and rest it on my knee, covering it with my own. At this gesture, she gives me a watery smile, but her lips press hard so I know she’s fighting to keep her composure.
I hate this too.
“That’s bullshit,” I say, my voice low and steely.
She sniffles a kind of laugh and wipes her eyes with her free hand. “I know—” she halts, looks up at the ceiling, and inhales a deep breath through her nose, “—I know I can be…” Evie shakes her head again, seeming to struggle for words. I squeeze her fingers.
A moment later, she tries again. “I know I am free-spirited, and I don’t want the same kinds of things they want. Like money and material things.” She blushes and looks down as though she’s admitted something terrible. “I know I let my heart guide my decisions…sometimes even when other people would choose something more rational or less messy, but—”
She looks up at me, and I swear she’s searching my face, checking my reaction. My expression is stoic on purpose because, in spite of myself, her admission makes me almost lightheaded. Money and material things don’t matter to her?
I mean, yeah, if I’d given it any thought, I wouldn’t have assumed they did, but hearing her come out and say it makes me want to grin like a fool. Because I’ll never have any money. Nothing more than what I can earn as a mechanic, anyway. I can’t buy her a house in Bendel Gardens or take her to Colorado for Mardi Gras like some rich guy in town would, and I probably never could. I shouldn’t be thinking of a future with Evie, but in this moment, I can’t help it. Even though my poor prospects are just one of the reasons I shouldn’t be with her, they are now one less.
I can provide a simple life if that’s what she wants.
