Chapter 38: Dangerous
Evie caught sight of Ezra and Shane approaching from the direction they had left her at the bar. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the two men; something was different between them.
Earlier, Ezra had a death look in his eyes, while Shane had been more amused. Now, they seemed to be on the same wavelength. What had transpired between them?
As they closed the distance, Evie noticed that Shane’s nose was noticeably reddened—a detail she hadn’t noticed before. Her irritation immediately turned to suspicion as she glanced at Ezra, who seemed entirely unbothered. Did he pull Shane aside to punch him in the face after claiming they were just going to have a conversation?
"How are you?" Ezra asked unexpectedly as he approached the bar.
"Fine," Evie replied curtly, diverting her gaze and refusing to engage with him further.
Shane slid into the seat next to her, but there was a distance that hadn’t been there before. He no longer leaned toward her, nor did he have that familiar spark in his eyes when he looked her way.
"What’s going on?" Evie asked Shane casually, turning her attention toward him, deliberately turning away from Ezra.
"Me?" Shane inquired, pointing at himself and flashing a grin. But it lacked the vibrancy he once gave her; it resembled the smile he wore when they first met—subdued. "I’m fine," he brushed off.
"Your nose." Evie nearly reached for it, but Shane instinctively recoiled. His movement was swift but not overly dramatic.
Shane wasn’t dodging her out of fear; he could maintain his friendship with her, caring less about Ezra’s threats. Deep down, he knew Ezra wouldn’t cross any lines—after all, they were practically brothers. He simply needed to establish boundaries, making his feelings for Evie clear to Ezra.
He’d made his point, and could now retreat.
"My nose is perfectly fine, Evie. No need to fret," Shane said with a forced smile. She hesitated, taking in the shift in their dynamic. He hadn’t called her by any lovey-dovey nickname this time; he simply used her name.
"I’ll be over there," he said, getting up and walking away.
A silence fell between Evie and Ezra, broken only by the background music and the sounds of revelers. She inhaled deeply and turned to face Ezra fully. He casually sat back, downing his drink while his Adam’s apple bobbed with the motion. "What did you do to Shane?" she demanded, her tone sharp and accusatory.
"Nothing," Ezra responded coolly.
"How can it be nothing? He’s avoiding me. What did you say?" Evie’s eyes narrowed, frustration boiling beneath the surface.
Ezra’s gaze flicked to her, lingering on her form. That look would have been enough to set her on fire, but she shook off the thoughts, refusing to be distracted.
"I told him to leave you alone," he said bluntly.
Evie’s brows knitted together as she shot back, "I didn’t ask you to do that."
"You didn’t have to," he replied with an unsettling calmness.
"Why are you doing this?" she pressed, struggling to comprehend his motives.
"Because you’re my woman," he stated flatly. "No other man is allowed around you—not even Shane."
Heat rushed to Evie’s cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from rising anger. How dare he assert this claim over her? They had established their fake relationship, and now he was implying something deeper. Was he trying to confuse her? Or was she just overanalyzing their situation?
"Are you attempting to possess me?" Evie challenged, locking eyes with him.
Then, with purpose, he leaned in closer. "You’re mine whether you like it or not," he declared boldly, holding her breath captive as their gazes clashed. She clenched her fists at her sides.
The ride back home was smooth, with no conversation to break the silence among the three of them. Each was lost in their own thoughts—Ezra in the front seat, while Evie and Shane occupied the back, gazing out their respective windows. The day had been long, and fatigue settled in as they returned to their rooms.
Evie and Ezra entered their shared room, while Shane headed to his own. Evie flopped onto her side of the bed, turning away and switching off her lamp, to find sleep.
When Ezra returned from the bathroom, he found Evie already deep in slumber. He approached his side of the bed and switched off the lamp, leaving only the moonlight to illuminate the room. As he lay down, he noticed the pillow she always placed between them. It was unnecessary, he thought with an amused smile, so he tossed it aside.
His gaze fell upon her red hair, cascading over the pillow, and he couldn’t resist reaching out to touch it. It was smooth, straight at the roots and wavy at the ends, sliding through his fingers.
Just then, she turned toward him, and he froze, withdrawing his hand and holding his breath.
In her sleep, she murmured, calling for her mother.
Did she miss her mom? he mused, narrowing his eyes.
He propped himself up against the pillow, his eyes locked on her serene face. She looked like an angel, yet that fiery red hair made her look like the devil—an innocent but seductive devil in her sleep. Her lush eyelashes, perfectly shaped brows, doll-like nose, and lips—those lips drove him insane since he kissed her in paris. He had kissed her mainly on his desires, not because they needed to. And those lips—he felt they would send him to hell.
What was he doing? He questioned himself as he realized he was admiring her, wondering when he would taste her lips again and feel her body pressed against his. He was starting to crave more than just a kiss.
Ezra!
What!?
Maybe Shane was right after all; he had started to see Evie as a woman, and he could barely admit it to himself.
This new feeling, after realizing it, was why he had purposely distanced himself upon returning from Paris.
Evie brought brightness and joy into his life—the laughter, the unexpected touch. Things had changed since she entered his world; even the smallest things brought him pleasure, even if he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it before. But he was undeniably starting to like her, and that complicating fact was dangerous for the entire set-up.