Page 53 of Gatsby's Starlet
“She cares,” Lucy said immediately. “She’s just done begging.”
Devil stepped in before anything could blow, grabbing Horse and saying something low, something that landed even from across the room, and just like that the girl was waved off and Horse was being steered toward the office.
“Devil’ll handle it,” I said.
The second Horse disappeared, Brenda’s smile slipped, quick, like it had never really been there to begin with.
“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Lucy said, already pushing up from the table, her chair scraping back as she nodded toward Spinner. “You follow the men and be nosy.”
“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”
They moved off just like that, leaving the table quieter than it had been a second ago, something heavier settling in behind them, and I turned back to Evie, really looking at her now without the noise, without the distraction, without anything left to hide behind.
“Come on,” I said, shoving my chair back and getting to my feet. “Let’s get outta here—take a walk.”
She nodded, but there was a pause, small but there, like her body lagged behind the decision before she finally pushed herself into motion. “Okay.”
And as we stepped away from the crowd, from the music, from everything pressing in around us, the air felt different, quieter, but not easier, and I made up my mind, the thought settling in slow and solid, like something I wasn’t gonna shake even if I tried.
I was gonna ask her straight, no circling it, no letting it drag out, because whatever this thing was between us, it had gotten under my skin faster than it should’ve, deeper than I was used to, and I wasn’t about to stand there pretending I didn’t feel it.
I needed to know if I was the only one carrying it… or if something was already starting to slip sideways right in front of me before I even had the chance to hold onto it.
***
OUTSIDE, NEITHER OFus said anything, just the sound of gravel shifting under our boots and the faint growl of bikes out front filling the space between us as we moved away from the door and into the darker stretch along the side of the building where the lights didn’t quite reach.
I smoothed a hand down the front of my cut, the motion automatic, like if I kept everything on the outside straight, the rest of it might follow, then dragged in a slow breath and looked past her instead of right at her, giving her a second, giving myself one too, because I didn’t want to come at her wrong and shut her down before I even got an answer, but the longer the silence stretched the more that feeling from inside crawled back up, that same low, unsettled edge that wouldn’t sit right.
“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” I asked finally, not pushing hard yet, keeping my voice even as I glanced over at her.
She shook her head right away, too fast, like she’d been expecting the question. “Nothing’s going on.”
I let out a quiet breath through my nose, not buying it, not even close, as I slowed my steps just enough that she had to slow with me.
“Evie,” I said, a little firmer this time, my eyes settling on her, “you’ve been somewhere else all night.”
“I said I’m just tired,” she replied, but she didn’t look at me when she said it, her gaze drifting past me instead, out toward the dark like there was something out there she was more interested in than this conversation.
That didn’t sit right.
I stepped in front of her before she could keep walking, not aggressive, just enough to make her stop, to make her look at me whether she wanted to or not.
“That’s not it,” I said, quieter now but heavier, the words landing with more weight than before. “You keep looking around like you’re expecting someone, like you’re waiting for something to go wrong, and I need to know if that’s got anything to do with me.”
Her breath caught—small, quick—but I saw it.
And for a second, just a second, something real flashed across her face before she smoothed it over again, before that same careful version of her slipped back into place.
“No,” she said, softer now. “It’s not you.”
I held her gaze, searching it, trying to find something solid to grab onto, but she gave me just enough truth to keep me from calling her out and just enough distance to keep me from getting closer.
“Then what is it?” I asked, not letting it go.
She hesitated, and it wasn’t just in her words this time, it was in her whole body, the way her shoulders tightened slightly, the way her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress like she needed something to hold onto.
“I just…” she started, then shook her head. “It’s nothing. I think I’m just… overwhelmed lately.”
