Page 71 of Back to Square One

She had a few things to get done before she headed to Evie’s for the night, and one of them was to love on her cat. It was the one thing she felt bad about, being away so often, so she swooped him up in her arms—much to his dismay if his annoyed meows were any indication—and kissed all over his head. Then she set him down, found one of the catnip mice he adored, and they played chase with it for nearly half an hour before Kevin got bored and wandered away.

“Thanks for stopping,” she called after him with a grin. “I love you.” His tail swished in response, and she laughed.

She switched the load of laundry she’d done from the washer to the dryer, then cleaned her bathroom—not that it needed it, as she hadn’t used it much that week. She stopped mid-scrub as a flash of being in Evie’s shower with her hit her brain. Back against the cold tile, hot water beating on her chest, Evie’s fingers buried deep inside her…

With a grin, she gave herself a little shake and got back to cleaning. “This is who I am now,” she whispered to the empty bathroom. “I’m a sex fiend. It’s all I think about. Sex, sex, sex.” Then she grinned some more, because how was that a bad thing? Her body sent a throb down between her legs in response, and that left her laughing quietly and shaking her head because dear God, how did one woman affect her so much? One woman she’d already known? How? It was nuts.

She threw some stuff into her overnight bag and was just zipping it closed when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see Evie’s name and photo on the screen. With a slow smile, she answered.

“Hey, sexy thing. I’m getting ready to head over. Need anything?”

“Rowan, it’s Claire.” It took Rowan a second to comprehend that Claire was calling her from Evie’s phone. “I’m at the hospital with Evie. She fell.”

Panic seized her before she even had time to think about it. “What? What do you mean?”

“I mean she fell. Come to the ER and I’ll explain.”

Rowan had a million questions, but the only word that left her mouth was “Okay,” and she practically ran out the door to her car. She barely recalled the drive—though she was pretty sure she broke any land speed records from her house to the hospital that was seven miles away—and after parking in the visitors’ lot, practically sprinted through the double doors into the lobby. She obtained Evie’s whereabouts from the information desk and was race-walking through the emergency department, passing some cubbies with open curtains and some with the curtain pulled closed. She heard Evie’s voice before she saw her, and she stopped a few feet from the curtain that had been pulled shut.

“Why? Why would you call her?” Evie asked, and everything inside Rowan fell because she knew exactly who Evie was talking about. “I didn’t want that.”

“Do you think she wouldn’t have noticed the bandage on your wrist?” That was Claire, and her voice was tight. Strained. Like she was talking through clenched teeth.

“I would’ve told her I wasn’t up for a visit tonight.”

“And for the next eight weeks of nights? Come on, Evie.” There was a beat of silence, and Rowan could picture them having a stare-down. Finally, Claire spoke again, and her voice was equal parts soft and icy, though Rowan couldn’t figure out how that was possible. “You have no right to jerk people around like this. Not me and not her. Grow the fuck up.” And then the curtain flew open, but Claire went the other way and didn’t see Rowan standing there eavesdropping. She gave it a moment and then took the handful of steps that brought her into Evie’s view.

“Hey,” she said as she walked in and kissed Evie on the top of her head. She gave it a second, let Evie get her bearings, then asked, “What happened?” her eyes glancing at Evie’s bandaged wrist.

Evie sighed and stared at her hand for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was just above a whisper. “I lost my balance in the kitchen and fell. Tried to catch myself. Broke a glass. And probably my wrist.”

“Maybe we should get you some wrist guards and knee pads and a helmet. Deck you out like a skateboarder.” It was yet another attempt at humor that fell flat on her. In fact, the opposite happened and Evie looked stricken. “I’m kidding,” Rowan added quickly, reaching out for Evie’s shoulder.

“It’s not funny,” Evie said, jerking her shoulder away, her eyes wet now. “I could end up like that. I lose my balance a lot. One of the many joys of this disease.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make light of it.” She pulled the plastic chair out of the corner and took a seat next to Evie’s bed. “Are you okay?”

A small sob escaped Evie’s lips, just a quick little puff of air before she caught it. “I hate this.”

“I know.”

“No. You don’t know. You couldn’t possibly know.”

Rowan nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know.” She put her hand on Evie’s thigh.

“You should just go.”

“Well, I’m not doing that, so…”

Evie’s eyes flashed at her, and the vehemence in them startled Rowan. “I don’t want this for you.”

Rowan shrugged.

“Rowan. Jesus. Just go.”

“No.”

Evie’s anger grew. “I don’t want you here.”