Her laugh is too cute. I slide my arms around her lower back, pulling her closer.
‘You know, I’m trying to decide whether or not your insect fascination is giving off serial killer vibes,’ she says.
I just smile at her. She leans down to kiss me, making me feel as if warm honey is trickling through my bloodstream. Her tongue seeks out mine, and I sit up on my elbows to deepen the kiss, chasing more of her. She breaks away with a heady sigh.
‘So, Buzz is Flannel Moth Fellini,’ Evie recaps, giving her head a little shake as if she’s coming out of a dream. ‘Who else, then—Austin? He’s so restless and fidgety. What about … Twitch?’
I should laugh at that bang-on nickname, but a sudden coldness clamps down on my spine, evaporating all the heat that was just racing through my body.
‘Sorry,’ Evie says, blinking at me with worried eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to bring him up.’
‘It’s okay.’ After a pause, I ask, ‘Have you heard from him over the past few days?’
She shakes her head. ‘Where is he? You still haven’t told me why he wasn’t at the party last night.’
I try to dislodge the lump in my larynx. ‘He’s at the Gold Coast. He flew there right after the showcase and hasn’t come back yet.’
‘Really?’
She gently shifts off my body as I nod, the temperature plummeting even lower now that she’s no longer lying on top of me.
‘He’s not talking to me at the moment, which is classic Austin,’ I say. ‘The guy never takes a breath until he’s pissed at me about something, then he goes to ground and ices me out.’ It was the same when Nadia and I kissed—after an initial confrontation, he didn’t say a single word to me for five gruelling weeks. Even when we were in LA, he gave me the cold shoulder whenever I struck up a short-term relationship with someone, like he was afraid he was being sidelined or something. Out in public, he’s all charm and confidence—an actor through and through—but in private, he can be so withdrawn and insecure.
A little divot forms in Evie’s brow. ‘That sounds a little … I don’t know … immature?’
Her words hit the target dead centre. Saying that aloud just now, vocalising the fact that he won’t even speak to me, made me realise how childish and self-absorbed that behaviour is.
‘So, if you haven’t heard from him, that means he hasn’t apologised to you for telling the media who your father is,’ I guess, my jaw tightening.
‘No, he hasn’t.’ Evie glances down, her expression clouding. ‘This has nothing to do with that because it happened before the showcase, but—’ Her voice snags.
I shift to face her. ‘What is it?’
She clenches the sheet in her fist. ‘My father reached out to me.’
My mouth drops open. ‘Seriously?’
She nods. ‘He sent my mum an email out of the blue, and then he called, wanting to speak to me, but Mum hung up on him. After that, he got my email address from somewhere because he’s, you know, probably secretly running the US government, given how much influence he has.’ Her fingers move to her mouth, and I take them and lace them through mine so she can’t chew on her nails.
‘What did the email say?’ I ask, hoping I’m not intruding.
‘At first, he just wanted to check he had the right address. I guess he was worried his personal stuff about me would fall into the wrong hands.’ Her head slumps.‘I really thought about not replying, but I couldn’t help it. After making him wait for a few days, I sent a message back saying it was me and asking why he was contacting me. When he replied, he didn’t answer that question—he just asked if I would be interested in meeting him for lunch while he’s still in town. I said I’d think about it. That’s as far as things got.’
I give her hand a squeeze. ‘How do you feel about it now?’
She takes a moment to answer. ‘I shouldn’t feel anything. Even anger would be more than he deserves. Mum’s completely horrified; she doesn’t think I should go anywhere near him. When I brought up the lunch, she got mad and accused me of disregarding how much she’s done for me by showing any interest in Gabriel at all. Which, if I’m honest, pissed me off because, yes, she’s done a lot for me—a lot—but there have been so many times when I’ve felt like I’ve been the one taking care of her. I think she’s forgotten that she’s living under my roof right now because she can’t afford to pay her own rent.’
My lips tilt down. ‘She’s obviously been very hurt by your father, too. I’m sorry that she’s taking it out on you.’
Evie stares up at the stark white ceiling, saying nothing.
‘So, do you think you’ll go to the lunch?’ I ask.
A lost look crawls over her features. ‘I’m not sure. But why am I not sure? I should tell him to shove it.’
‘You’re trusting. I wouldn’t rush to change that if I were you. I don’t trust anyone, and all it does is make me feel more alone.’
Her eyes slide to mine, a whisper of a line creasing her brow. ‘You don’t even trust me?’
