All the Little Raindrops(42)

He imagined some of the players even worked in the three-letter agencies. A king’s court required such men, after all, to operate outside the law.

No, he didn’t care what the article said or what the investigative update might be. He wanted to look at the photograph of Noelle being led into the police station at dusk, the high streetlamps in the parking lot and the flash of a multitude of cameras lighting her pale and haunted face.

He’d thought her plain at first, but that was before he’d seen the fire that made her glow from the inside. The one that made her beautiful.

He’d touched her naked body with his hands, but he’d also entered her mind. And that was far, far more gratifying.

Fulfilling in a way even he hadn’t thought it would be.

He stared at her for a few more minutes, his blood pumping swiftly through his veins, making him feel alive. Watching their escape, fueled by him, had been one of the greatest thrills of his life.

He’d never forget them. And while—by choice—Noelle might forget him for a while, she wouldn’t forget him forever. No, he was quite certain she would not.

The knowledge was intoxicating.

A message appeared on the phone, and he used the code to log in to the site he’d been directed to.

A new game was beginning. He’d play, of course. And maybe once again, he’d play to win. Because why the fuck not?





CHAPTER NINETEEN


One Year Later


Noelle’s knee bounced as she raised her head, glancing at the sidewalk just beyond where she sat on the umbrella-covered restaurant patio. Dappled morning sunlight sparkled off the water of the fountain nearby, and the soft splashing offered a sense of calm. Despite the still morning and the peaceful sound of flowing water, Noelle’s heart beat swiftly, anxiety causing her to shift her legs repeatedly.

She knew it was him approaching from down the block even before she could register any discerning quality that told her so. The man walking toward the place where she sat was taller than she remembered Evan to be, his shoulders broader, and she’d never become very acquainted with his walk. After all, she’d regularly averted her eyes when she’d seen him at school. And then after that, they’d spent the majority of their time together on their knees.

Or their backs.

He was blocks away, but she recognized him all the same. Maybe she’d know he was near even with her eyes closed. She didn’t necessarily like to think that was the case, but for a brief span of time, her emotional survival had been dependent on his presence. Perhaps they were fused in some inexplicable way, a tightly woven tether that stretched over seasons and distance. She’d felt the space between them this last year, and she felt his nearness now. A reeling. A buzzing inside. An internal meter emblazoned with his name.

Noelle stood, smoothing her hands over her jean-clad hips and then fluttering her hands, unsure of what to do with her arms.

God, she was nervous.

He came closer . . . closer. He didn’t glance around the open space. His eyes were focused directly on her. Perhaps he felt her too. He smiled, and her breath released, her lips curving in response. He was wearing low-slung jeans and a black T-shirt with some logo she was too preoccupied to attempt to discern. He was as staggeringly handsome, as breathtakingly golden, as he’d always been. Even more so. Something about that made her rejoice, and simultaneously made her want to cry. Truth be told, something about it hurt. She didn’t understand why, and maybe she’d think about it later, and maybe she wouldn’t.

Evan walked through the short black gate, let it swing closed behind him, and then made his way to where she stood at the small bistro table. His smile grew. “Hey,” he said. His voice. It washed over her. A ray of light. A hand in the dark. Fingers linking with hers. You’re not alone.

“Hey,” she greeted him, and she couldn’t help the way her smile widened too. It felt good. Effortless when so much in her life had felt forced this past year. Slow and lonely.

“You look good,” he said. “Damn good.”

“So do you.”

“Your hair,” he said. “It’s lighter.”

“Oh.” She ran a hand over it, shrugging in a girlish way, surprising herself with how much she liked that he’d noticed. “Highlights,” she explained, feeling ridiculous for her response. As if they were nothing more than old classmates who’d run into each other unexpectedly. Next they’d speak about the weather.

It’d been a year since that day he’d left her house after his father had shown up to fetch him. All but dragged him away. It was still so hard to believe. She’d told him they both needed time to process, and that had been true, though the further truth was probably that they’d both be doing that in some way or another for the rest of their lives.

They stood there for a minute, the air thick with all the words she knew they wouldn’t say. All the things for which no words existed, really. And that was okay, she supposed. They both knew. She guessed they always would. She gestured to the table where a thermos of coffee and two white mugs sat. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to eat or just have a coffee.”

“Just a coffee,” he said. “I ate earlier.” They both sat, and the waitress approached them, her eyes hanging on Evan. Noelle took a sip from her cup as he told her no menu was necessary.