Chapter 6

Fraser

I pace back and forth, waiting for Evie outside.

I"ve put my sunglasses on and am keeping my head down, hoping to keep a low profile and not get recognized right now. That"s the last thing I need. I am not in the mood for any more chit-chat.

Or smiling.

Or selfies…

I"m irritated.

It bothers me that Evie"s inside talking to that guy. I would never challenge her on it or stop her from doing it. She"s free to talk to whomever she wants to talk to. But it doesn"t mean I have to like it.

A group of people exit the venue. I hide behind some bushes, wait until they"re gone, and then duck into the entry. I scan the bar searching for Evie. But the place is too crowded. I"m unable to spot her.

I step back outside and resume pacing. Throw in some grumbling under my breath for good measure.

Let"s break it down.

Pros about today:

One.

Evie knocking the breath out of my lungs when I stepped into her old bedroom.

As if the memories of the time I spent there flooding back weren"t enough, the way she looked…

Man. Beyond sensational.

Although, if I"m being honest, Evie"s just as much a knockout in leggings, an old hockey jersey, and Ugg Boots.

Correction. Ugh boots.

But still, with her hair swept up, her shoulders exposed, and that lavender dress hugging her body in all the right places, it took everything I had in me not to sweep her into my arms and never let her go.

Two.

Spending time with her.

I meant what I told her as we were leaving her parent"s place. I"ve been looking forward to this day ever since Levi first brought it up. And that was over two months ago.

Because let"s face it. This is it. My one and only shot at getting to spend some time alone with her.

There"s never any other reason for just the two of us to hang out. I might see her occasionally after a home game if she sticks around, but Levi and a million other people are always milling about.

And I might stumble into her in town when I"m back visiting family, but that"s never planned and never for longer than it takes to exchange a few pleasantries and for her to recap whatever latest feedback notes she"d emailed me.

I"ve had weeks to prepare myself for today and mentally compartmentalize everything in a way that makes it possible for me to enjoy spending this time with her without doing anything stupid like blurting out my feelings and turning what"s already bound to be a tough day for her into a complete disaster.

Evie deserves to be with a great guy. Someone who not only treats her well—base requirement—but who also has emotional intelligence and the ability to communicate. As Tori liked to remind me during our many, many fights before we broke up, I"m a prickly, closed-off robot with the talking skills of a cactus.

There must be something wrong with me because I just can"t do it. I"ve had a few relationships, and every time, it"s the same issue.

Me.

For some reason, I don"t seem to be capable of opening up to anyone.

The thing is, I know I can. I do it around Evie without even thinking about it. After spending even a few seconds in her presence, I"m all aboard the Evie Banter Bandwagon.

It"s easy.

It"s fun.

It"s natural.

So why can"t I find whatever that is and apply it when I"m with someone else?

Because I"m damaged, that"s why, and I don"t deserve to be with someone as great and special and funny and smart and beautiful and hockey-obsessed as Evie.

I just don"t.

So yeah, one day. That"s all I get with Evie. That"s all I can allow myself to have.

Which is why I need to salvage what"s left of it and make good on my promise.

I look toward the entry. Still no sign of her.

Okay, resume mental dissection.

Let"s move on to the cons about today:

One.

Seeing her miserable.

That alone instantly wipes out the pros.

Despite putting on a brave face, Evie hasn"t been herself all day, and I hate that I haven"t been able to make her feel better. That was my job after all, wasn"t it? And I"ve failed.

I may not know her reasons for coming here, but it obviously means something to her. Maybe closure? Maybe revenge? Maybe to prove something?

Whatever it is, she clearly didn"t get what she needed to get out of it.

And I clearly didn"t step up and fulfill the obligation I made. I told her I"d be the best date she"s ever had. I"ve done a pretty lousy job of it so far.

Two.

Watching that smarmy jerkface getting his girl while hurting my gir—er, Evie. While hurting Evie.

Three. The way too long ceremony.

Four. The crappy food.

Five. The crappier band.

Six. The inane small talk. I really could have done without hearing all about Corny, Kernel, and Pop, aka Mr Mariano"s corns which, for some unknown reason, he actually names. I"ve heard of people naming inanimate objects, but that"s taking it a step too far.

I could go on listing negatives because, believe me, there are plenty more sucky things about today.

But none of those things are as bad as seeing Evie upset.

I don"t want her memories of this day to only be bad ones, which is why as soon as she comes outside, Operation Un-Badify Today begins.

I turn back to the entry, and my eyes land on the vision in lavender standing there. Evie looks around. Once she spots me, she smiles, gives a wave, and hikes up her dress to make it easier to walk over my way.

I meet her in the middle. "Hey."

Studying her, I look for any signs of what she might be feeling. Is she angry? Sad? Did jerkface say something to upset her? Is it time for me to go in there and rearrange his face?

She smiles. "Hey. So, Bryce is dead. Long story. But it involves a rogue butter knife, a voice in my head daring me to do it, and another voice reminding me that you"re here and that I could put you and your crazy big muscles to use helping me bury the body. I just need a shovel. Or shovels. Plural. I don"t expect you to do all the grunt work by yourself."

"I"ve got two shovels in my trunk for just this very thing."

"Excellent. Lead the way."

I extend my arm and clarify. "Just so you know, I"m leading us away from the scene of the crime and toward the fun activity I have in mind."

"But what about the body?"

I crack a grin. "I really shouldn"t encourage you, should I?"

"You really shouldn"t."

Evie wraps her slender fingers around my bicep as I usher us along a gently sloping trail that winds down to the beach. I have so many questions for her, but I hold off. She might need some time after speaking with her ex.

The important thing is that she"s with me, and I am a man on a mission—make Evie happy, or die trying.

The salty air mingles with her perfume. It"s a different scent from whatever she wore in high school, but that same trace of vanilla is there.

High school.

Still can"t believe that was seven years ago. It feels like a lifetime.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if, after returning from what would be my final late-night chat with Evie, my family hadn"t ambushed me in the living room.

Everything changed that night.

We had a family meeting, talked about all the options.

Then we decided.

We agreed as a family to double-down and do everything we could to protect Dawn.

To immediately cancel filming that awful reality TV show midseason.

To pull back from all interviews and press.

To never tell a single soul outside of the family what had happened, even when people made up all sorts of nasty stories about us.

Over the years, some of the rumors have filtered through to me.

Mom went to rehab. Or had a botched facelift. Or went to rehab after her botched facelift.

There was gossip about my brothers and me, too. That we"d gotten into trouble with the law. That there was some big cover up. That we were on drugs.

All of it is nonsense.

But the worst rumors, the ones that hurt the most, were the ones about Dad. Especially the ones about him cheating on Mom.

That man loves Mom the way I want to love my wife someday. He would never, ever look at another woman, much less do anything to hurt Mom.

We braced ourselves, preparing for the inevitable blowback of doing what we were about to do. And we agreed as a family that no matter how bad it got, no matter how much mud they slung at us, we"d never cave.

And we haven"t.

All the years later, we"ve kept our mouths shut and stuck to the plan.

For Dawn.

And now, for Oakey. My favorite little dude in the world.

Evie tightens her grip on my arm as the path becomes sandier.

Needing a break from my thoughts, I take in a few deep breaths and allow myself to picture this moment but in a different scenario.

One in which we"re not escaping her ex"s wedding, but instead Evie"s my girl, and we"re going down to the beach because it"s something we both love to do.

Maybe we"ve got a couple of dogs—big dogs, because I"m a big dog guy—and they"ve raced ahead of us and are splashing as they run through the water.

Maybe we"ve just spent the entire weekend together. I would have made her breakfast in bed. She would have insisted we move to the kitchen since it allows me to keep producing more pancakes to feed her.

She would have dragged me to the Comfort Bay Farmers" Market, and I would have pretended to hate it.

We might have gone for a hike through Cuddle Cove Cliff at the crack of…two in the afternoon—Evie has never been a morning person.

I may have surprised her with a cozy movie night at home, complete with blankets, popcorn, and a selection of romcoms, because yes, they"re secretly my favorite movies. But that stays between us, okay?

No telling Levi.

Or Culver.

Or even Evie, for that matter.

I"m not sure what her current taste in movies is, but she likes punk music, so there"s a chance her taste in film could be equally questionable, and she would just love to tease me about it.

Maybe I"d have spent the entire weekend with a fluttery, nervous feeling ticking away in my belly, waiting for the right moment to get down on one knee and?—

Evie loses her balance, letting out a small yelp. Her nails dig into my arm.

"Sorry," she says, looking up at me and easing her grip. "Sand and heels."

"You"re fine." I"m the idiot who didn"t even think it might be difficult for her to navigate the sandy path in a tight dress and heels. "I"ve got an idea."

"Fraser, what are you doin—oomph."

"There." I scoop her off her feet and carry her, bridal-style. "Better?"

For possibly the first time in her life, Evie is speechless. After a few seconds, she adjusts to being cradled in my arms, looping one arm around the back of my neck, the other pressing into my chest.

"Better," she says so softly it almost gets lost in the breeze.

Silence envelops us as I amble on, loving the way her body feels against mine, loving the feel of holding her.

Protecting her.

I suppose I could have offered to help her take her shoes off, but I like my way much better, thank you very much.

"Are you comfortable?" I ask a few moments later.

"A pillow would be nice. Maybe a blanket. Is there any way to make my seat recline some more? And I have some thoughts about the in-flight entertainment."

I can"t help but grin.

How can one woman be so perfect?

"The captain has just turned on the fasten seat belt sign due to some expected turbulence," I reply, keeping a straight face. "But I"ll return with everything you asked for as soon as it"s safe to do so. And I can"t wait to hear your thoughts about the in-flight entertainment. I trust you"ve been taking notes."

She throws her head back and lets out a laugh. The radius of the joyous sound stretches out around us. My heart blooms in my chest.

It"s the first time she"s laughed all day.

Forget hockey. I"ve got a new job now—making Evie laugh.

We reach the beachfront, but I imagine walking in heels on fine sand will be a challenge, so I keep her in my arms and head closer to the water.

"As we prepare for landing, please make sure your seat belt is fastened, your seat back and tray table are stowed, and your window shades are open."

She eyes me with an amused expression. "When are you planning to put me down?"

Never.

"Once the captain turns off the fasten seat belt sign and the aircraft has come to a complete stop at the gate," I reply, totally nailing my flight attendant voice. "Until then, please remain seated."

She laughs again. "I know I joked about your crazy big muscles before, but aren"t you getting tired?"

"Nope. Not at all."

Okay, so I am getting slightly fatigued. But why ruin the moment?

We reach firmer sand.

"I"m all out of plane talk," I announce as I carefully ease her down.

"That"s okay. I"ll be sure to leave a positive review on the Rademacher Airlines website, despite the criminal lack of romcoms offered."

Ah, so she does like them. Good to know.

"Thank you, ma"am. Your feedback helps us continuously improve our service and better meet your needs."

Laugh number three. "You"re a doofus."

"Guilty."

The gentle murmur of waves brushes against the shore as the sun dips toward the horizon line, casting a warm glow of tangerine and soft pinks over the tranquil beach.

At least I think it"s a tranquil beach.

As far as I"m concerned, there"s no one else here apart from Evie and me.

I unbutton my jacket and set it down as a makeshift blanket on the sand. "Are you okay sitting down in that dress, or do you need some help?"

"I should be fiiii?—"

She crashes straight into me.

"Were you about to say fine?" I tease, securing my arms around her back, holding her in place.

She tries to straighten, but it must be hard to rebalance in heels, so her body remains pressed against mine. And yeah, no complaints here.

She chuckles lightly. "I was."

I take hold of her arms and help her get steady on her feet. Once she is, her gaze meets mine. Wordlessly, I guide her down onto the sand, staring into her eyes the entire time.

With Evie seated, I let go. She tucks her legs to one side and scooches over.

"There"s room for one more," she says, patting the jacket.

"It"s fine, I can just sit on the sa?—"

She flicks my calf with her purse and yanks me by my shirt sleeve. I land beside her with a heavy thud.

That"s one way to get me to sit next to her.

We both stare out into the ocean for a few moments.

It"s funny how something so simple, so mundane as sitting next to someone can make me feel so at peace. I"ve always felt good being around Evie…and it looks like I still do.

"How are you feeling about jerkface?" I eventually ask.

"Better, actually." She darts her gaze to me and smiles. "How come you don"t say his name?"

"Excuse me?"

"You hardly ever refer to him by his real name."

"Who? Jerkface?" I retort. "I thought that was his real name. I found it quite handy actually, how it"s both his name and it captures his whole personality."

"You really don"t like him, do you?"

That"s putting it mildly. "Nope," I say, popping the p.

"Why?"

"Who breaks up with someone on live television?" I spit out, then, noticing the surprise on her face, tone it down a notch. I shake my head. "That"s not a real man."

"Ah, so that"s where I"ve been going wrong this whole time. I"ve been dating fake men."

"Maybe you have."

"So how would a real man break up with me?"

I turn so I"m angled toward her and lift her chin so that our eyes connect. "A real man would never break up with you in the first place, Evie. A real man would be smart enough to realize what a precious gift it is to be with you. A real man would do whatever he could to keep you happy and safe and would always keep two shovels in his car for any unexpected no-questions-asked moments that might arise."

She laughs—number four, by my count—making her hazel eyes glimmer in the late-afternoon light.

Something passes between us.

I can feel it. And I think she does, too.

Compartmentalize, man. That"s the plan, remember? It"s a good plan. A solid one. But a plan only works if you actually stick to it.

I need to control my feelings.

I need to lighten the mood.

I need to show her a good time…remember? That"s what I promised, and it"s time to deliver.

"You know," I begin, "I"m actually a little upset with you."

She frowns. "Why?"

"You rejected me."

"I did? When?"

"Today. Seven times."

"Seven times? When did I reject you sev—? Oh." Her frown softens once she catches on. "The dancing."

I nod. "The dancing."

"I thought you were doing that as part of the whole we"re a real couple ruse."

"Nope. I was doing it as part of the whole I really want to dance with the prettiest girl at the wedding non-ruse."

"I"m sorry." She rubs my arm apologetically, then, with a hint of a smile, continues, "Consider yourself lucky. I"m a truly terrible dancer. You dodged a bullet, believe me."

"That won"t do." I aim my most serious look her way, hoping the squinting doesn"t come off as some weird eye condition. "I can handle being rejected seven times. But eight? That"s a bridge too far."

She looks in the direction of the reception hall. "But we"ve missed our chance."

"No. We haven"t."

Leaning forward, I unlace my shoes, slide them off, and then remove my socks.

"Fraser, what are you doing?"

I lift myself up, brush the sand from my backside, and offer her my hand. "I"m asking the prettiest girl at the wedding if she"ll dance with me."

"Here? On the beach?"

"No. Not on the beach."

I shift my gaze to the ocean.

Evie"s eyes widen. "No way."

"Way." I roll my pant legs halfway up my shins and jog the few steps into the water. "Come on in. It"s warm."

"Fraser! I can"t."

"I"m sorry. This version of Fraser software doesn"t recognize that word. To update to the latest version…" I drop the robotic voice and smile at her. "You"re gonna have to come here and say it to my face."

"Yeah, right. The second I move closer, you"re going to splash me."

"Oh, Evie." I prop my hands on my hips. "It"s cute you think I can"t splash you from here."

I make a move as if I"m about to kick some water her way. She covers her face and shrieks, "Don"t you dare! This dress cost seven thousand dollars."

I stop mid-kick. "I"ll buy you ten more dresses."

She uncovers her face. "Wait. You believe me?"

"Well, yeah. You look incredible in that dress, so I assume it"s expensive. I"m also assuming seven thousand dollars for a dress is expensive. I don"t really know much about fashion."

Evie pulls herself onto her knees, then heaves herself into a standing position. She takes a few cautious steps toward me. "I bought it online for two hundred bucks."

I don"t know how to respond to that. What can I say? She makes it look like a seven-thousand-dollar dress.

"Is that your way of telling me you don"t mind if it gets wet?"

"Absolutely not. It"s my way of telling you I have nothing else to wear, and even though it"s lavender, I"m worried that if it gets wet, it"ll become see-through."

"Fair enough. Good thing I"ve got a backup plan."

I step out of the water and stalk toward her.

"I"m getting nervous," she says as I get closer.

And closer.

Until I"m standing right in front of her.

So close that her vanilla fragrance infiltrates my nose.

So close that I notice the freckles on her nose are gone. Because I"m assuming that makeup has the power to make freckles disappear, right?

So close that as the sun begins to set, I can see every fleck of brown and green and gold swirling in her beautiful eyes.

"Trust me," I murmur. "I won"t get your dress wet."

"Um…"

"Say yes, Evie."

She sighs out a quivery breath. "Okay, yes."

"I won"t get your dress wet," I repeat. "But I am getting my dance with you."

And with that, I bend over, lift her in my arms again, and carry her into the water. "You can"t be serious. This is how we"re going to dance?"

"It sure is. Now, I"ve got something in my back pocket," I say.

"Bet you say that to all the ladies."

I chuckle. "My phone, Evie. Could you take it out please?"

"Why do you need your phone right now? I thought you didn"t do social media."

"I don"t," I reply. "And I don"t want to take a photo. Call me crazy, but I need music to dance to."

"Oh. Right." She shifts her weight. "I"m going in. No funny business, mister."

"You"re the one about to grope me. I"m innocent," I say, smiling.

"For the record, I am not groping you."

Is it wrong that I wouldn"t mind if she did?

With her tongue poking out the side of her mouth in concentration, she reaches behind me. Her hand slips into my back pocket for barely a second as she retrieves my phone.

"Your phone"s locked," she informs me. "Do you have face ID?"

"No. Only fingerprint or code. And since my fingers are otherwise occupied, I"ll give you my code."

Evie looks at me like I just told her I"m quitting hockey to fulfill my secret lifelong rock star ambition and will be joining the band Levi manages.

She blinks hard. "You"ll give me the code to your phone? Just like that?"

"I trust you. Besides, I have two shovels in my trunk, remember? And I"m ninety-five percent sure you"re not some sexy enemy double agent, or worse, an undercover reporter."

"Technically, I am a reporter," she points out.

"Technically, you"re the only good one."

She laughs. Number five, is it?

"What"s your code?"

I tell her the numbers, and she types them in.

"Scroll down, and you should see Spotify."

"Yep. Got it. I"m in the playlists section. Now let"s see, what do we have here? The Fraser Loves the Ladies playlist. The Rademacher Burt Bacharach Hour of Love playlist. Catchy title. Ooh, I like this one—the I Secretly Love Taylor Swift playlist."

I grin. "You"re making it all up. Those playlists aren"t there."

"True. But I have two questions."

"Go ahead."

"How good is Rademacher Burt Bacharach Hour of Love? That just came to me. Completely out of the blue."

"That one was definitely my favorite."

She smiles. "And question number two. I need to know…are you a Swiftie?"

"Well, I do play for the LA Swifts."

She narrows her eyes.

"And yes, I"m a Swiftie."

Her eyes narrow some more. "Taylor"s versions?"

"Naturally."

She pats my head. "Good boy. Now, what song would you like me to pick?"

"Okay. I"ll pick the song, but first, you have to tell me—Bacharach or Swift?"

"Taylor. And just so you know, I will be judging your decision for months, possibly years, to come."

"Gee, well, good thing there"s no pressure. Give me a minute."

"Your time starts now?—"

""Sweet Nothing,"" I say before she can begin the countdown.

"That was fast."

"It"s a great song. Do you know it?"

"Of course I know it. It"s just…Why do you like it?"

"It"s a soft, sweet song," I begin, feeling a little self-conscious as I delve deeply into this. I haven"t really given it all that much thought. I just like it.

But then I remind myself it"s Evie I"m talking to, and from out of nowhere, the words just come.

"It"s a love song that"s not about big moments but about the ordinary, beautiful, everyday aspects of being with someone. It"s about finding your person and feeling safe. Settled. Like you"re enough exactly the way you are. I…I like those lyrics, and the whole song feels like a soft kiss on your forehead from a person you love. Sorry. That was probably too sappy."

"No, it wasn"t." She searches my eyes. "It was just the right amount of sappy."

She finds the song, and it starts to play. Her head rests against my shoulder, and I stand there, holding Evie in my arms, cherishing having her this close to me.

The sun goes down.

The water laps at my feet.

I close my eyes for a moment and wish this was real.

That despite being standoffish and not great at talking, with my heart enclosed by the Great Wall of China, I could be a man worthy of her.

She pulls back slightly so we can see each other.

My breath hitches in the back of my throat as the rightness of the moment barrels into me. I"m looking into the eyes of the woman I"ve spent the past seven years in love with.

No other woman compares.

No other woman even comes close.

Which makes me hate myself a little since I never meant to hurt or string anyone along.

But I can"t help it.

No other woman is Evie.

I lean down.

She tilts her head up.

Evie and I are about to kiss.

I pull back slightly.

Wait. If this happens—and believe me, I want it to—it has to be because she wants it.

Evie presses down on my shoulder to lift herself a little higher.

Okay, seems like she wants it.

The tips of our noses touch.

It"s happening, people. This is not a drill.

Our breath mingles.

Her eyes flutter to a close, and…

"OMG! Is that Fraser Rademacher?"

"No way! It is! And is that…is that the Breakup Sneeze Girl?"

"Hey, Fraser! Fraser! Over here!"

Evie wriggles in my arms, and I fight to keep her from falling out of my grip. Once I"ve got her securely snuggled against my body, I glare at the two idiots on the beach who just broke into our private moment.

Two idiots who are pointing their phones directly at us.

"What are we going to do?" Evie whispers.

"Don"t worry. I"ve got you. You"re safe."

She tucks her head into my shoulder, and I stomp out of the water, keeping Evie shielded from view.

I"ve seen my brother Clayton handle this situation the wrong way enough times to know how to handle it the right way.

Don"t engage. Make a swift exit.

That"s it.

Simple but effective.

And so, keeping my back turned to our unwanted intruders, I block Evie as well as I can from them. I may not be able to go back in time to un-take whatever shots they"ve already got of us, but I can do my best to ensure they don"t get any more.

We collect our things, and I carry Evie back toward the reception hall, her body pressed against mine the entire way, leaving behind the kiss that got away.