Oh, my. Perspiration beaded on the back of my neck. My breathing was shallow, my pulse fast. I felt hyperaware of my body. Of the tiny hairs standing up on my arms. Of the needful, demanding feeling in my legs. I was wet—I was certain of it. And all I wanted right then was Evan’s hands upon me.

It took a massive force of will to manage words, and even more strength to look him in the eyes. “If not Kevin, then who?” I asked, but the question that remained unspoken was, “You?”

He reached out and tucked a loose lock of hair behind my ear, the soft brush of his finger against my skin just about melting me. “I guess that’s something you’ll have to figure out.”

four

I spent the next hour circulating through the condo, chatting with the guests, and reminiscing about Jahn. I caught sight of Cole twice and Tyler once. I didn’t see Evan at all, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, I’d liked the way he’d looked at me. I’d liked the frisson of awareness that tingled through me simply from his proximity.

On the other hand, our conversation in the kitchen had been so surreal that I wanted to avoid him until I could wrap my head around what had happened. And I sure as hell didn’t want another lecture about Kevin. Especially since everything Evan had said was so damn right.

As for Kevin, he’d been my almost constant companion since the moment I’d left the kitchen. He played the role of the supportive boyfriend with such gusto that I barely had a moment to myself. I finally escaped, claiming that I was going to the bathroom when all I really wanted was a moment when I could stand by myself and simply breathe.

Rather than slip away to one of the restrooms, I hurried up to Jahn’s rooftop patio. It’s my favorite place in the condo, accessed by a stunning spiral staircase on the north side of the living room. Jahn decorated it with as much detail as the interior of the condo, so the covered and uncovered areas were full of comfortable chairs and lounges, conversation areas, and beautiful plants that made this oasis in the sky feel like a park. Or at the very least, like the best rooftop lounge of a five-star European hotel.

While most of the guests were lounging on the couches and sipping drinks by the outdoor kitchen, I moved away from the crowd. I stood alone between the tiny potted firs that lined the perimeter, my hands pressed to the glass that provided that extra bit of protection against the urge to spread your arms and leap, proving once and for all that though you might appear human, you really weren’t. You were just air and breath and the thrill of motion, and nothing bad could happen to you in the night sky because the wind would always catch you.

“I hope you’re not thinking about jumping.”

Ironically, I did exactly that, practically leaping out of my skin as my hand rose to my throat. My heart beat double-time, but whether that was because of the surprise or because of the man who’d so stealthily approached, I didn’t know.

I drew in what I hoped was a calming breath, gathered myself, and then turned to face Evan.

“I was,” I admitted. “But don’t worry. I’m not suicidal.”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes flat as they assessed me. “You’re too strong for that.”

“That is such bullshit.” I bit out the retort automatically, irritated that he’d so easily pushed my buttons. People had said the same thing after Gracie died, every word like fingernails on a chalkboard. You’re so strong, you’re handling it all so well. And it was all crap, because I wasn’t handling it at all.

I’d moved like a zombie through the days, barely managing to function. The days were bad enough. The nights pretty much fucking killed me.

I sucked in a shaky breath. “There’s nothing strong about surviving,” I said. “All it means is that one more time, death passed you up.”

I winced, because the second the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d said too much. Shit.

I turned back to the glass and looked out over the world. I didn’t turn when I heard him move up beside me, taking his own position at the barrier. For the first time I could remember, in fact, I wanted Evan Black to just go away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was low and level, and I liked the way it felt inside my head. I didn’t turn, though. I wasn’t sure if he was sorry for my loss or apologizing for his words, and if it was the former, I really didn’t want to know.

“So why are you here?” I finally asked, my back still toward him. “Did you track me down to give me more grief about the guy I’m dating?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t spend that much time thinking about Kevin Warner.”

I turned, my brow raised in question. “No? Because in the kitchen earlier he sure seemed to be on your mind.”

“Not Kevin,” he said simply. “You.”

“Oh.” I swallowed, liking the sound of that word on his lips. You.

For a moment, silence hung between us. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what he wanted. I didn’t know what he was doing there or what was going on between us, or if anything even was going on between us. I waited for him to speak, but he seemed content to let the silence continue. He was doing nothing more than standing there, and yet I felt suddenly trapped, as if he’d captured me in that firm and unwavering gaze.

In desperation, I finally managed to form a sentence. “You’re wrong,” I finally said, looking down at my fingernails so that I wouldn’t have to see his face. “I’m not strong at all.” I thought of how much I wanted to escape this day. Of how much I wanted my uncle back. Of how desperately I wanted to cry, and of how hard I was having to work to keep all that grief bottled up inside.

Mostly, I thought of how certain I was that I wouldn’t make it through the night. That no matter how hard I tried, in the end the explosion would come and somehow, someway, everything I’d wrapped up tight would come completely unraveled.

“You are. I’ve watched you,” he said firmly. “Over the years, I mean. You keep yourself under tight control, Angie. That takes a lot of strength.”

I fervently wished that what he saw was true. It wasn’t, of course. I’d been trying for years to keep myself under control, but the tighter I grasped, the more pieces of me seem to break free.

Stifling a sigh, I turned away again to look out at Lake Michigan and the boats that were now nothing more than tiny points of lights in the distance. “You must not have been watching too closely,” I said.

“On the contrary,” he said, his voice low and even and so intense it seemed to erase all my protests even before I could voice them. “I paid a great deal of attention. I always do when something matters to me.”

“Oh.” My voice felt small and breathy.

From his position beside me, he hooked a finger under my chin and turned my head to meet his eyes. Heat from the contact shot through me, and I half-wondered if I’d see a burn mark there the next time I looked in the mirror.

He moved his hand away, and I wanted to cry out in protest. “Trust me on this, Lina. I know all about control.”

I swallowed. I wasn’t entirely sure I knew what we were talking about. And I sure as hell didn’t know why he called me by my old nickname, but to my surprise, I found myself liking it. I liked even more the way that he was looking at me. I think I could have stood there forever, the city and lake below and the night sky above and this enigmatic man only inches from me.