Sing For Me by Rachel Schurig
Will
For the first time ever, I wake up in Eva’s bed.
That sweet citrus smell I associate with her is all around me in these sheets, strong enough to make my head spin. Even better than her scent is the sight of her face half-buried in the pillow next to me. Eva’s still sleeping, her chest rising in a gentle, steady cadence, auburn lashes fanned out over her porcelain skin, freckles dotting her nose. Her pajamas—a tank top and shorts set—are pink and covered with little robots and she has her hands tucked under her cheek. The softest rumbling snore escapes from her freckle covered nose every few minutes—fucking adorable.
She looks younger in her sleep, more vulnerable, and it hits me like a blow to the stomach all over again, what happened last night. She let her guard down with me, opened up. Showed me her scars—both figurative and literal. And then she’d let me love all that fear away.
It makes my breath hitch in my chest, this knowledge that I’m the person she trusted enough to do that with. And if there’s a sliver of guilt mixed in there somewhere, a whispered voice reminding me that I haven’t been entirely open with her, it’s easy enough to ignore while visions of Eva half-naked and heartbreakingly beautiful run through my mind.
Her eyelashes flutter, a soft groan escaping. She stretches a little, burrowing more fully into her pillow, and I’m grinning so hard my face hurts. She’s just so fucking cute.
No one would even recognize me right now, with this goofy smile on my face and something I suspect might be giddiness running through my veins. But laying here watching Eva, I don’t give a shit how stupid I look.
She groans again and this time when her eyelashes flutter, she opens her eyes. She blinks a few times before her gaze catches on mine. And I see the exact same goofy smile stretch across her face.
“Good morning,” she whispers and I reach out to smooth some wild red curls away from her face. That fucking hair, man. It does something to me, especially when it’s messy like this, mussed from my fingers the night before.
“Morning, honey.” Her cheeks pink up a little at the endearment and the fact that she’s still shyly blushing after everything we did last night has me reaching for her, pulling her into my arms, the press of so much bare skin along mine making me shudder with desire.
“I was a little afraid I dreamed you,” she whispers as I brush gentle kisses across her forehead and cheeks. When I get to her lips, she pulls back, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Nuh uh,” she says, words muffled by her hand. “Not until I brush my teeth.”
I roll my eyes. Like a little morning breath is going to lessen her appeal in the slightest.
“Guess I’ll have to find something else to kiss then,” I mutter, sliding down her body, pressing my lips against her delicate collar bone.
She snorts out a laugh, grabbing the sides of my head to hold me in place. “That was a terrible line, Will Ransome.”
I rest my chin on her chest and look up at her and the grin on her face sends warmth radiating through me. There’s something different about her this morning, something lighter. Easier. Her smile seems effortless, her eyes relaxed. There’s a light radiating from this girl so bright it almost hurts. She almost seems like a different person—or, rather, like the girl I know just turned up louder.
Her walls are down. She’s not wearing a mask of fear and doubt. And that makes her about ten times more beautiful than she already was.
I wonder if this is how she was before the fire as she runs her fingertips through my hair, nails scratching across my scalp and making me hiss in pleasure.
“I know we kind of left things up in the air last night,” she murmurs, and my chest clenches. A timeout, I remember her saying. I had hoped that once my lips met hers she would forget all about the just friends thing, but maybe I was wrong.
She studies my eyes and I try to shutter the disappointment I’m feeling.
“I’m not ready for the break to be over,” she murmurs and my face breaks out into a smirk.
“Thank God.”
She laughs, the sound vibrating through her chest and I swear I’ve never grinned this big in my life.
“I don’t have any clients today.” My voice is low and gravely, filled with emotions I don’t know how to name. “I was gonna go in to get some work done in the office but…”
Her eyes twinkle down at me. “But what?”
“I think I’ll stay right here instead.”
She brushes soft fingertips over my forehead. “Sounds good to me.”
This time it’s my stomach’s turn to interrupt us. “Breakfast,” she says, smacking my shoulder. “Then more kisses.”
I offer to make pancakes and amusement sparkles in her eyes. “How can I turn down pancakes from Vega Ransome’s assistant?” But a quick glance in her cupboards shows that she wasn’t joking last night when she said she needed groceries. I can’t even find milk or eggs in her fridge.
“Sorry, I should have asked Marissa to go first thing.” She shoots me a worried glance, like she’s embarrassed that she has someone shop for her, and I feel bad for joking that she was a diva last night.
“My dad uses one of those delivery services,” I tell her, wanting her expression to go back to the soft easiness of a few minutes ago. “My mom always tells him that she can just do the shopping, if he’s so worried about getting recognized, but it makes him feel like a big deal to have his food delivered.”
She visibly relaxes. “I can’t imagine what that was like. To grow up with one of the most famous musicians in the world as your dad.”
I shrug. “He was just my dad. It was weird when strangers would stop him or take pictures of us when we were together, but it happened from the time I was born so I guess I never really knew another way.”
She gives a little shudder. “I hate the photographers the most,” she mumbles, and I instinctively wrap an arm around her. “I almost passed out when I saw the red carpet at your mom’s gala.”
“Did you have a hard time with them before?” I don’t specify what before means but I don’t have to.
“It wasn’t my favorite part of the job,” she admits, giving me a sheepish smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of awkward and shy when I’m off stage.”
I bring my lips to the place where her neck meets her shoulder. “You weren’t very shy last night.”
She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling as she pushes me away. “Don’t even think about it, buddy. I’m starving.” She shoots the cutest freaking glare in the direction of the fridge. “If we can’t have pancakes here, I guess we’ll need to go out.”
I had wanted to hole up in the house together all day—preferably naked—but if she’s willing to go out for food I’m not going to complain. I know that’s still not the easiest thing for her. “Do you know a good breakfast place?”
Her entire face lights up and she claps her hands. “Oh my God, yes! Happy Cake is like, ten minutes away. They have twenty different kinds of hot cakes. Twenty, Will.”
I hold out my hand, unable to stop grinning. “Lead the way, honey.”
* * *
I’ve never been muchof a pancake guy. Give me bacon and eggs seven days a week and I’m happy. But that was before I ate pancakes with Eva. She’s in food heaven the entire meal, giving so many appreciative sighs and moans that I want to drag her to the bathroom and pick up right where we left off last night.
I can’t seem to stop watching her—while she eats, while she chats about her sister, who insists on coming to this restaurant every time she visits, while she sips her coffee. Even when her asshole manager calls. She seems at ease and completely confident when she tells him she’s out for breakfast and she’ll talk to him later—nothing like the tense way she’d reacted to seeing him at the gala.
Everything she does is fascinating to me, and I can’t get over how much lighter she seems this morning. Even the crowded dinner doesn’t seem to make her uncomfortable.
I decide right then that I’m never going to be satisfied with just friends. Not with her. I don’t want to push her, don’t want to scare her away, but I know I want more. I can only hope she feels the same way. Regardless, we’re going to have to talk about this. Soon.
She’s laughing at some lame joke I made when we step out of the restaurant, looking up at me. It takes her a moment to see what I’ve just noticed—a swarm of paparazzi rushing towards us, the shuttering of their cameras already going crazy as they begin to shout.
Eva instinctively leans into me, her entire body immediately rigid as she seeks shelter behind my much larger frame. I wrap an arm around her, swearing under my breath, and then the photographers are on us, calling her name over and over, shouting questions about me and her accident and why has she been hiding?
“Will, how long have you been dating Eve?” one of them calls, shoving a microphone in my face. It’s everything I can do to not shove the guy to the ground. I glance down at Eva and see the fear that’s taken over her features and I want to pound my fist into their fucking cameras, knock every one of them to the pavement. They’re scaring her.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” I snarl, pulling her through the crowd toward the safety of my truck.
“Eve, have you met Will’s father yet? What about his uncles?”
“Are the Ransomes helping you with your comeback?”
Jesus. I can feel her body shaking next to mine, her terror a physical thing. Why in the hell had we ever left her bed this morning?
“Let me through,” I bark, not waiting for them to comply. I’m bigger than most of these assholes and I use the arm not holding Eva to push them aside. Shouting down the street tells me that there are more of them coming and I push a little harder, determined to get her to the vehicle.
We make it to open pavement and they run after us, shouting their questions, begging Eva to look up so they can get a shot of her face. I head straight to the passenger side of my truck and open the door, pushing her inside as gently as I can. She resists, clinging to my arm, not wanting to move away from the shelter of my body.
“Let me get you out of here, honey,” I murmur, physically lifting her off the pavement to get her into the truck. “Keep your head down,” I tell her as I shut the door.
They try to swarm me again as I head to the driver’s side and I push one guy away, too hard, causing him to stumble and fall on his ass. Good.
“Get the fuck out of my face,” I snarl at another photographer before I manage to get my door open. I climb inside as quickly as I can and glance over to see Eva hiding her face in her hands. Her shoulders are shaking.
I reach over and pull her seatbelt into place, pressing a kiss to the side of her face, not giving a shit if the paparazzi outside get a shot of it. She’s freaking out and I need her to know that she’s okay, that I’m here.
The truck is surrounded by photographers, taking pictures through the windshield, and I swear to God I’ll run them over if they don’t let us through. Luckily they back out of the way when I rev the engine and I peal off, tires squealing, as soon as I have a clear path.
Once we’re a block away, I reach over and squeeze Eva’s shoulder. “Hey. We’re okay. They’re all gone.” She doesn’t respond, doesn’t even move. The urge to pull her into my arms is overwhelming and I grip her shoulder harder. “I’m right here,” I grit out.
My phone starts ringing and I curse, releasing her so I can pull it from my pocket. Rose. I want to ignore it but I have a bad feeling about why she’s calling so I tap the accept button. “Rose?”
“Hey.” She sounds breathless and a stronger stab of unease hits me. “There are like, half a dozen photographers outside the apartment.”
I smack my hand against the steering wheel. “Shit.”
“They went nuts as soon as they saw me,” she says. “They were asking about Eva.”
“Yeah, they got us coming out of a restaurant,” I growl out.
“Oh, no. Is Eva freaking out?”
I glance over at her still huddled form. “It’s not great.”
“I’m sorry. Can I help at all? I can meet you somewhere?”
“Thanks, Rose,” I say. “I’ve got it.”
But I don’t have it, not at all. I don’t know what to do to break this fear that seems to be gripping her. “Look, call your dad, okay? He’ll send someone over to deal with the photographers.” I chew on my lip, hating that I’m not there with her. Rose has hated media attention our whole life, and everything with her ex a few years ago only made that much worse. I can hear in my cousin’s voice that she’s freaked out. But going over there right now, when I have Eva in my truck, will make everything so much worse for both of them. “Have your dad send a driver for you and Riv if you need to go out today,” I growl, frustrated as fuck that I can’t be in two places at once.
“I don’t think we need—”
“Please just do it. I don’t want to be worrying about the two of you getting surrounded or getting followed or…” I trail off, clenching my jaw. “Please, Rosie.”
“Okay,” she says softly. “We won’t drive ourselves for today.”
I release a breath just as Eva’s phone starts to ring, the sound muffled from her purse, which I see is clutched tightly in her fisted hands.
“Rose, I have to go. I’ll call you soon, okay?”
“Don’t worry about us,” she urges. “Everything is fine here.” I know she’s just trying to make me feel better but there’s not a lot I can do about it either way. I end the call then toss the phone into a cup holder before reaching across for Eva’s purse. She doesn’t want to let it go.
“That’s probably Marissa,” I tell her. “Let me get the phone, honey.”
She loosens her hold enough that I can pull it away. It’s tough to find the phone in the purse while I’m driving and the ringing stops before I manage it. But then it starts up again immediately.
“Sorry,” Eva whispers next to me and I realize that she’s finally raised her head. “Here, let me.” I glance over at her as she takes the purse, trying to read her face, but her expression is completely blank. She’s pale though, way too pale, and her eyes are huge in her face. When she pulls the phone from the purse, her hands are shaking.
“I’ll get it,” I say, taking it from her. Sure enough her best friend’s name is on the screen. “Marissa?”
“Will?” There’s a bite to the word, her normal professional veneer absent. “Is Eva with you?”
“She’s here. We just got mobbed by paparazzi coming out of a restaurant.”
She swears loudly. “They’re at the house, too.”
Fuck.
I glance over at Eva. She’s staring blankly out the window, shoulders rigid. “Marissa, they knew about us.”
“What?”
“The paparazzi. They knew I was going to be there with her.”
My phone in the cup holder dings and I glance down to see a text from Quinn on the screen. Since I’m out of free hands, I release the steering wheel long enough to tap the Bluetooth icon on my truck’s dashboard display and the text appears there. Dude, there’s a couple photographers outside the shop.
My stomach sinks. “There are photographers at my apartment,” I tell Marissa in a low voice, like maybe I can hide the news from Eva. “And at my shop.”
“So this isn’t just about her,” Marissa mutters. “Someone tipped them off about the two of you.”
“Looks that way,” I grit out. Whoever the fuck that person is, I’m ready to kick their ass.
“Will I be able to get through the gate there?” I ask, wondering where in the hell I’m going to take her if we can’t get into her place.
“I have security on the way,” Marissa says briskly, all business again, and some of the tension in my chest eases. She sounds controlled and confident and I’m suddenly very glad that my girl has someone like her taking care of shit. “Give it about fifteen minutes and you should be good to come back.”
“Got it.”
“Do you need me to send someone to your place?” she asks.
“No, our parents will handle it.”
“Then I’ll see you soon.”
The truck feels eerily quiet when I hang up the phone, the only sound in the cab our quickened breathing.
“Hey.” I reach for her hand, relief crashing over me when she lets me take it. She doesn’t tear her gaze away from the window but at least she isn’t shutting me out. “Everything is going to be fine, Eva.”
“Sorry I lost it,” she murmurs to the glass and I squeeze her hand harder.
“You owe zero apologies,” I say through gritted teeth, hating the defeated, embarrassed note I hear in her voice. She doesn’t respond and we spend the next several minutes driving through the sunny Malibu streets in heavy silence.
When we finally go back to the house, we get through the gate without much trouble. There are even more photographers here than at the restaurant, crowding her narrow little street, but the security does a good job of keeping them out of the driveway so I can get in. Nothing can stop them from taking a million pictures of us through the windows though.
I haven’t even put the truck in park yet when Marissa comes hurrying from the house. She has Eva out of her seat and walking before I open my door, protective arms around her as she rushes her up to the front steps. I follow them, pausing on the porch when my phone rings again. My dad.
I debate whether to answer but before she’s swept through the front door, Eva turns, looking for me. “Are you coming?” she asks, voice too high, too brittle. I hit decline and put the phone in my pocket. My dad can wait.
“I’m right here.”
As soon as we reach the top of the steps to the second floor, a blur of color rushes towards Eva, pushing Marissa out of the way. “Geoff,” she grumbles as the blur—a person, apparently—wraps Eva up in a hug.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, voice worried. “I’m so sorry. I came as soon as I heard.”
Eva gently extracts herself from the guy. “Thanks, Geoff. I’m okay.”
He doesn’t release her entirely, keeping a tight hold on her arms as he studies her face. This isn’t one of the friends who was with us the night we watched that stupid SciFi show but I’m pretty sure I remember him being in my shop the day I met her, and his face is scattered through many of the pictures Eva has decorating every surface in the house.
“I already talked to Luke and Caleb,” he says. “They’re going to pick up Sosie on the way. Everyone will be here soon.” He manages a tight smile, even though he still looks terrified—more upset than the situation calls for, honestly. I get that Eva has a hard time with crowds but she got through it. The photographers didn’t chase us or block the truck or put us in any kind of physical danger.
But from the tense set of the guy’s expression, you’d think Eva has only barely managed to avoid disaster. “We can hunker down and have a movie day,” he goes on. “We’ll order food and—”
“Actually,” Eva says, her voice stronger than it’s been since we left the restaurant, “I don’t think I feel like a lot of company.”
He frowns, obviously not expecting that answer. “I just figured—”
She places a hand on his arm. “Really, I’m fine. Will and I were planning to hang out this afternoon.”
Geoff and Marissa’s heads both snap in my direction, and I get the impression they forgot I was even here. I meet Eva’s eyes behind them and can see the question there. Is that okay? Will you stay with me?
“Already took the day off, so you’re stuck with me now.”
She gives me a small—but steady—smile and I can see the relief in her expression.
Her friends are decidedly less relieved. “Are you sure, Eva?” Geoff asks, looking between the two of us. Everything about him screams stressed, from the set of his shoulders to the worried expression on his face. “Everyone will want to see you.”
“Maybe you should rest a little,” Marissa says, studying her face. “You could lie down—”
Eva laughs and their mouths literally gape in shock at the sound, like it’s the last thing they could imagine her doing right now. “You guys, seriously. I’m fine. I don’t need you to do the whole circle-the-wagons thing.”
“Eva, you were totally ambushed,” Geoff argues.
She shrugs. “It was a little scary in the moment, but mostly because I wasn’t expecting it. Will got me through the crowd and I calmed down pretty quickly once we were in the car.”
If anything, her explanation just seems to confuse them more. “I could stay down at Marissa’s place,” Geoff suggests. “Just in case you need someone.”
Eva still looks amused. “If you want to hang out with Mar, I’m not going to stop you. But I just want a quiet afternoon with Will.”
Her words fill my chest with warmth and something passes between us as she meets my eye, a spark of electricity, of understanding, in the air, and I couldn’t look away from her if I tried.
“Holy shit,” Geoff mutters, and I realize he’s staring at me, mouth open.
“I know,” Marissa says next to him, eyes darting back and forth between Eva and me. “What the hell is going on?”
Eva rolls her eyes at their dramatics. “Okay, that’s enough of you two.” She starts to shuffle them towards the stairs. “Say hi to everyone for me. I’ll call you later.”
They argue some more as she herds them out but eventually they leave with promises that they’ll call and check up on her later. And then we’re alone.
“Sorry about that,” she says, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. I want nothing more than to still her fingers by taking her in my arms. I want to hold her close and feel more of that electricity that always seems to flow between us.
But I’m not sure where we’re at with the whole friendship break thing, and the last thing I want to do is overwhelm her after the morning she had. So I put my hands in my pockets to keep myself from reaching out.
“They’re a little overprotective?”
She’s nods. “They’re used to me not reacting well to this kind of thing.”
That’s when it hits me—her friends are the people who’ve gotten her through all of her breakdowns since the fire. I think about the series of bets and challenges they set up just to get her out of the house. The way she told me they were like family. Suddenly their reluctance to leave her alone after the morning’s events makes a lot more sense.
They were expecting her to freak out. To need them to pull her through it. But instead she sent them away—because she has me. She trusts me to be that person for her.
The realization tightens something in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I have to swallow a few times before I can speak. “You’re stronger than they realize.”
She makes a face and I shake my head at her before she can deny it. “You are. You didn’t shut down today, Eva. You didn’t totally freak out.”
Her lips tug up in a sheepish smile. “I’m actually kind of proud of myself.”
God, this girl. She wrecks me.
“You should be,” I say, my voice embarrassingly husky. I’m lucky I can speak at all over the lump in my throat. “I definitely am.” I shift on my feet, needing to break the intensity I’m feeling before my body says fuck it and pulls her into my arms. “So you’ve got me for the day. What do you want to do with me?”
She thinks for a moment. “We could go for a swim? The water is probably still cold but we could give it a try.”
“Are you sure you want to be outside?” I ask, thinking about the photographers that I’m sure are still on the street.
“It’s a private beach. They can’t get to the back of the house.”
Well, then. “Honey, if you’re going to get into a bikini, you can bet your sweet ass that I’m down.”
She laughs that husky laugh that has tightened my stomach since the first day I met her. Then she holds out her hand, waiting for me to take it. When I do, she turns, pulling me further into her house.
I follow her. In this moment, I’m pretty sure that I would follow this woman anywhere.