Chapter 8
The party was in full swing, but all I could hear was the pounding of my chest, each beat reminding me of how much I had screwed up. How much I missed Evan, even though I wasn’t sure if I wanted to admit it. The fight we had, the things I’d said, I wasn’t even sure where it had all gone wrong. But standing here, surrounded by people I didn’t care about, pretending to enjoy myself, I knew exactly why I was doing this.
I was trying to make Evan jealous. Make him feel what I felt. I couldn’t stand the distance between us, the coldness that had settled in his eyes since the fight. He had backed off. Maybe I had pushed him too far. Maybe it was my fault we were here, but it didn’t matter. Not right now. What mattered was making him feel the same damn pain I felt.
I took a long drag from the cigarette between my fingers, watching the smoke curl in front of me. The crowd was loud, the music blaring, but I felt detached. I didn’t belong in this scene. Not anymore. Not after everything.
Then I saw him. Evan. Standing by the bar with Regulus, his white blonde locks a little messier than usual, his jacket, that jacket, hugging his frame like it always did. He looked good. Too good. Even from across the room, I could tell that something was off. His shoulders were tense, his face still tight, his lips pressed in that familiar line he got when he was holding something in.
I flicked the ash off my cigarette and took another long drag, then let it hang from my lips as I scanned the room. I was already looking for my first target. Someone to make Evan notice. Someone to make him see that I was fine. I wasn’t hurting. I wasn’t missing him.
I spotted him quickly. A guy standing by the window, looking out at the dark night, his figure outlined by the soft glow of the street lights outside. Perfect. He didn’t seem attached to anyone, and that was exactly what I needed.
I moved toward him, taking my time, letting my hips sway just the right way. I was good at this. Too good. And tonight, I needed to be even better.
“Hey,” I called out when I got close enough, my voice smooth, with just the right hint of confidence. The guy turned, his eyes blinking in surprise as he took me in. I flashed him a smile, the kind that worked every time, the kind that I knew would draw him in. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”
He looked me up and down, sizing me up, before he finally spoke. “Uh, no. I’m just visiting some friends. I’m Xenophilius.” he said, offering his hand.
“Barty,” I responded, shaking his hand with just a little more force than necessary. A deliberate lingering moment. Enough to make him think I was interested, just to keep the ball in my court. “Want a drink? I’ll get you one.”
Xenophilius hesitated, but then shrugged, his easy smile making me roll my eyes inwardly. This was too easy. But that didn’t stop me from leaning in closer, making sure to laugh at something he said, letting my laughter bubble up a little louder than necessary.
I wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore. My eyes were locked on Evan. He hadn’t moved from his spot. His eyes were fixed on me, though his face had gone hard, jaw clenched, and those lips pressed into a tight line I recognized all too well. He was pissed. Good.
I took a slow sip from my drink, deliberately glancing over at Evan, watching his face tighten more with every passing second. He looked so bothered. I couldn’t help the wicked smile that stretched across my face.
I shifted closer to Xenophilius, letting my arm brush his. My heart skipped a beat as I felt Evan’s stare burn into me. Every glance, every slight move I made, I knew Evan was watching, and it was exactly what I needed. What I wanted. I wanted him to feel something. I wanted him to feel me.
Xenophilius, bless his oblivious soul, leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, and I let him. I didn’t even flinch. My eyes never left Evan, though. The way Evan clenched his fists, the slight tremor I could see in his hands. It was working. I was winning. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.
But even in the middle of the rush, the high of watching Evan struggle, something felt wrong. It felt empty. It was supposed to make me feel better. It was supposed to make me feel like I had control over something, anything. But as I looked at Evan, standing across the room, his expression unreadable, that high faded quickly. I couldn’t stop the pang in my chest, that sharp ache that made everything feel like a lie.
Xenophilius eventually wandered off, leaving me alone by the bar again. And as much as I told myself it was fine, that I was in control, I felt a sick emptiness gnawing at my insides. I needed more. I needed to keep making him feel what I felt. But the emptiness was starting to creep in, and I couldn’t fight it.
The next guy was taller, sharper, a stranger I didn’t care about. I walked up to him, my steps deliberate, my mind fixed on one thing, making Evan feel like I did. When the guy noticed me, I flashed him a flirtatious smile, my voice low, deliberate, and I felt his attention immediately shift to me. That’s all I wanted. I didn’t care about him. I didn’t care about any of them.
What did I care about? What was I trying to do?
I glanced back at Evan again. Still watching. His gaze never left me.
But by the time Xenophilius came back around, the rush had worn off. The guy was still holding my attention, but I wasn’t there anymore. My eyes kept straying back to Evan, who was still in the same spot, though now he was fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. He wasn’t even pretending anymore. He was hurting, and I could see it. I could feel it, even if I didn’t want to.
The tension in the air was thick, and I felt every bit of it. I was standing by the bar, pretending to enjoy myself as I flirted with Xenophilius. I could feel Evan’s gaze burning into my back, like a heavy weight pushing down on me. But I didn’t care, or at least, that’s what I told myself.
Xenophilius, the guy I was with, was still talking, but I barely heard him. My attention was completely consumed by Evan. Every time I glanced over, I saw his clenched jaw, his eyes narrowed into a glare, the tight grip he had on his drink. His anger was palpable, and it was exactly what I wanted.
Then, without warning, Evan moved. His long strides cut through the crowd like a storm, and before I could fully register it, he was right in front of me, his hand gripping my wrist so tightly it almost hurt.
“Barty,” he hissed, his voice low but full of fury. “Now.”
Xenophillius, confused by the sudden tension, backed off, and before I could say a word, Evan was pulling me through the crowd, his hand still tight around my wrist, guiding me through the chaos of bodies and flashing lights. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to fight him or follow, but the fact that he was still touching me made my heart race. Part of me felt like I was winning, until I saw the way his eyes flashed with anger.
He shoved open a door, leading us into a quieter room at the back of the house. The party noise faded the moment the door slammed shut, and I found myself in the dimly lit room, my chest heaving with anticipation.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Evan’s voice was sharp, his breath coming fast, but there was something else behind it. Something raw, something desperate.
I smirked, playing it cool. “Having fun, obviously. Isn’t that what we’re all doing here?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Barty,” Evan snapped, stepping closer. I could see the rage in his eyes, the way his nostrils flared. “You think you can just make me jealous? You think you can fuck around with other people to get a rise out of me?”
I shrugged, trying to keep my cool. “You’re not my boyfriend, Evan. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might punch me. But then his eyes softened just the slightest bit, and it hit me, he was angry, but he was also hurt. It was something I didn’t want to admit, but I could feel it, even if he wasn’t saying it aloud.
Before I could say anything else, he surged forward, pushing me back against the wall. His lips crashed into mine with an urgency that took me by surprise. It was hot, messy, and full of frustration. All the words we hadn’t said, all the things we’d been holding back, came pouring out in that kiss. His hands were all over me, grabbing at my shoulders, my waist, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch me first.
I moaned softly against his lips, my body instinctively responding to his touch. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, not like this, not when we were so angry at each other. But God, I couldn’t stop it. The need to be close to him, to feel him, was too strong. Every inch of me was screaming for him.
Evan broke away for a second, his breath coming heavy as he looked at me, his chest rising and falling with each inhale. “You think you can play with me like this?” he growled, his voice thick with emotion. “You think I’m just going to watch you with someone else and be fine?”
I couldn’t respond. The truth was, I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. I was angry, sure, but I was also scared. Scared of losing him. And the way he was looking at me, the way his body was pressed against mine, made me feel like I could lose him all over again.
He kissed me again, harder this time, his hands sliding down my body to grip my hips as he pulled me even closer. The heat between us was almost suffocating, but I didn’t care. I needed this. I needed him.
His hands slid beneath my shirt, his touch hot and familiar, sending sparks of electricity through my veins. I could feel every inch of him pressed against me, the solid heat of his body making everything else in the world fade away. His mouth moved down to my neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses as he muttered curses under his breath.
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Evan whispered, his voice barely audible against my skin. “Making me jealous on purpose and then acting like it doesn’t matter.”
I didn’t know how to answer that. The truth was, it did matter. It always mattered. But I couldn’t admit it. Not yet.
Evan’s hand slid down my back, his fingers teasing the waistband of my pants, pulling me even closer as his lips returned to mine in another searing kiss. It was all fire, raw, messy, passionate fire. And despite everything that had happened, despite the anger and the hurt, I could feel myself giving in to him.
He pulled away just enough to look me in the eye, his pupils blown wide. “You drive me insane, you know that?” he said, his voice rough. “I hate you right now, but I can’t, I can’t fucking stay away.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just kissed him again, desperate, frantic, not caring anymore about the words or the fight. We were both caught up in this moment, this explosion of everything that had been building up between us.
His hands were everywhere now, tugging at my clothes, pulling me even closer, and I couldn’t help but respond. I was lost in him, in the intensity of the moment, the heat of the kiss, the way his body fit against mine like it was always meant to.
Everything else faded away, our arguments, our misunderstandings, all of it. It was just him and me, caught in a tangled mess of need, anger, and passion.
When the kiss finally broke, we were both breathless, both a little unsteady on our feet. Evan’s forehead rested against mine, his breath shaky as he tried to collect himself.
“Don’t do that again,” he whispered, his voice softer now, more vulnerable than before.
I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "What do you mean?" I asked, playing dumb.
Evan's grip on my wrist tightened. "You know exactly what I mean, Bartemius." He used my full name, a clear sign that he wasn’t messing around. "You're playing games with my heart, and it ends now."
The room around us grew even quieter, the music from the party outside a distant murmur. The only sound was the rapid thumping of our hearts, echoing off the walls like a drumbeat of our shared history.
"I'm not playing games, Evan," I protested, but my voice was weak. I knew that deep down, I had been pushing his buttons, trying to get a reaction. But I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t expected to be dragged away from the safety of the party and into this small, intimate space where there was nowhere to hide from the truth.
He leaned closer, his breath hot on my face. "Bullshit," he said, his eyes searching mine. "You've been flirting with Xenophilius all night, flaunting it in my face, and now you're going to tell me it means nothing?"
I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. "It's not like that," I tried to explain, but even to my own ears, it sounded like a lie.
"Then tell me what it is," he demanded, his voice cracking with emotion. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're trying to make me jealous."
The air was thick with tension, charged with the electricity of our unspoken feelings. And as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I had been trying to get his attention, to make him see that I was still here, still interested. But now that I had it, I didn’t know what to do with it.
Evan stepped back, releasing my wrist, and I felt a sudden sense of loss. He paced the small room, his fists clenched at his sides. "Why, Barty?" he asked, his voice breaking. "Why do you keep doing this to us?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The truth was, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know why I was so afraid to tell him how I felt, why I kept pushing him away only to pull him back in again. It was a dance we’d been doing for months now, a dance that was threatening to break us both.
He stopped pacing and turned to face me, his expression a mix of anger and pain. "Is it because you don’t think I’m good enough for you?" he asked, his voice low. "Is it because you’re afraid of what people will say?"
My eyes widened at his words. That wasn’t it at all. "No," I managed to croak out. "It's not that."
"Then what is it?" His voice was a desperate plea now, full of hope and hurt.
And that's when it hit me, the realization that I had been holding onto all this time. It wasn’t about making Evan jealous or proving anything to anyone. It was about my fear of losing him, of not being enough, of never truly being able to hold onto something so beautiful and fragile as what we had.
"I'm just scared," I admitted, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I'm scared of what people will say, and I'm scared of losing you."
Evan's eyes searched mine, looking for the lie, looking for the punchline. But all he saw was the raw truth reflected back at him.
"Scared of losing me?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don’t have to be. I’m not going anywhere."
He took a step closer, closing the distance between us, and before I could react, his hands were on my face, his thumbs gently stroking my cheeks as he kissed me. It was a soft, sweet kiss, filled with all the things we hadn’t said aloud.
As our kiss deepened, I felt the tension in the room melt away, replaced by a warmth that spread through my body, filling every corner of my soul. It was a kiss that spoke of love and longing, of fear and hope.
For a moment, we just stood there, our bodies pressed together, our hearts beating as one. And in that moment, I knew that no matter how complicated things were between us, no matter how much we fought or denied it, we couldn’t stay apart.
Evan’s hands slid down my body, his touch gentle but firm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He pulled me closer, his mouth moving from my lips to my neck, his kisses growing more urgent with every passing second.
I moaned softly, my head tilting back to give him better access. His teeth grazed my skin, sending a shiver down my spine, and suddenly, I couldn’t think of anything but the way he felt, the way he tasted. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, our kisses growing deeper, more frantic.
We stumbled backward, my back hitting the wall with a thud. Evan’s hands roamed over my body, unbuttoning my shirt with an urgency that was almost painful. He kissed me harder, his tongue slipping into my mouth, dancing with mine as a warning of what was to come.
When my shirt fell open, he broke the kiss to look at me, his eyes raking over my exposed chest. "You’re so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice full of awe and need.
I felt my cheeks flush, both from his words and from the way his eyes devoured me. I’d never felt so wanted, so desired, so seen. It was like he was peeling away all my layers, all my defenses, and all that was left was raw, unbridled emotion.
I reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. His chest was heaving with the same passion that filled me, and the sight of him, all bare and vulnerable, took my breath away.
Our kisses grew more frenzied as we stumbled backward, his hands unbuckling my belt, my fingers fumbling with the zipper of his pants. We were both desperate, lost in the moment, the only thing that mattered being the feel of each other’s skin.
The wall was cool against my back, grounding me as the rest of the world spun away. Evan’s hand slid down the front of my pants, and I gasped into his mouth, my hips jerking forward.
He broke away, his eyes dark with need. "You want this?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
I nodded, unable to form words. The desire in his gaze was all the answer he needed.
He kissed me again, harder this time, and I knew we were crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. But in that moment, I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, and the way he made me feel alive.
The door to the room swung open, and we froze, our eyes snapping to the figure standing in the doorway. It was Xenophilius, his eyes wide with shock and something else, something that looked suspiciously like hurt.
The music from the party outside crashed into the room, shattering the spell that had held us captive. Evan and I stumbled away from each other, our breathing ragged as we tried to compose ourselves.
"What the fuck?" Xenophilius’s voice was a harsh whisper, filled with confusion and betrayal.
And with that, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed through the small space, leaving us both breathless and trembling with anticipation.
Evan turned back to me, his gaze intense. Without a word, he reached for the button on my pants, pulling them open and pushing them down to my ankles. He kissed me again, his hands roaming my body with a fierce possessiveness that sent a thrill through me.
Our clothes fell away in a tangle, each piece discarded in our haste to be closer, to feel more. We stumbled backward again, this time to the edge of the bed that took up most of the small room. He lifted me onto it, his hands never leaving my skin as he followed me down, his body pressing into mine.
The mattress dipped under our weight, and for a moment, we lay there, our eyes locked, our breath mingling as we processed what was happening. Then Evan leaned in, capturing my mouth in a kiss that was equal parts anger and passion.
His hands moved over me with a newfound urgency, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin that made me arch up to meet him. Our bodies moved together.
It was a reckless, desperate love making, fueled by the anger and fear that had brought us to this moment. Evan collapsed on top of me, his breathing heavy, his heart racing against my chest. I could feel his heartbeat, feel the warmth of his body, and I didn’t want it to end. For a few moments, we lay there, our bodies entwined, the only two people in the world.
I pushed Evan off gently, sitting up and reaching for my discarded clothes. "We can’t do this," I said, my voice shaking. "We can’t just ignore what happened."
He sat up too, his eyes searching mine. "What do you mean?"
I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "We have to talk, Evan. We have to figure this out."
He nodded, his expression serious. "Okay," he said. "Let’s talk and go back out there."
“I fucked up,” I had muttered under my breath, breaking the silence. I had felt Evan’s chest rise and fall as he had shifted slightly, his body moving against mine.
“You didn’t just fuck up, Barty,” Evan had said, his voice soft but firm. “But I couldn’t just pretend that didn’t happen, you know? I’d been hurting too.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Evan. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t know how else to deal with everything.” I lifted my hand and ran it through his hair, fingers tangling in the softness. “I’ve been such a mess.”
Evan had stayed quiet for a moment, and when he had spoken again, his voice had been quieter, but filled with sincerity. “We both have, Bat.” His use of the nickname had made something in my chest flutter. I loved that he still called me that, even after everything.
“I never wanted to hurt you. I just, I guess I didn’t know how to let it go,” I had admitted, my voice catching slightly.
Evan had shifted to look at me, his dark eyes full of understanding, but still a hint of sadness. “We can’t keep doing this, Barty. But I didn’t want to walk away from you, not after everything we’d been through. We’re better than that. We need to fix this together.”
I had swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in my bones. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want to lose you either.”
He shifted again, moving closer to me, his lips brushing against mine gently. It wasn't desperate or rushed like before. It was soft and tender, like a promise. I kissed him back, and for that brief moment, it had felt like nothing else in the world mattered.
When we had pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his, just breathing. “We’ll figure this out, right? We’ll work through everything. I know I’ve been an asshole but I’m willing to do better. For you. For us.”
Evan gave a small nod, his fingers tracing the lines of my tattoo gently. “We will. But it’s going to take time. I just needed to know that you are here. That you are really here with me.”
I looked into his eyes, and there was something that settled inside me. Something lighter than before, as though we had broken through the barrier we had put up for so long. “I’m here, Evan. I’m all in.”
He smiled at me then, and it was the kind of smile that had made my heart do a little flip. He leaned in to kiss me once more, a promise we’d keep working on this, no matter how difficult it might be.
We took a deep breath together, and then Evan rolled off the bed, offering me a hand. “Come on, let’s go back out there,” he had said with a small grin. “We’ve still got a party to enjoy, don’t we?”
I nodded, taking his hand and allowing him to pull me up. My body felt different, lighter somehow. Like the weight of everything that had been hanging between us had lifted, and all that was left was the two of us, ready to face whatever would come next.
We left the room hand in hand, and as we stepped back into the chaotic scene of the party, I felt like we were starting fresh. The music still blared, and people still danced, but it didn’t feel as suffocating anymore. The world outside that room was still there, but now it felt a little more bearable.
As we rejoined our friends, Regulus flashed us a teasing grin. “Took you long enough,” he joked, but there was no malice in his tone. Just a knowing look between the two of us.
I grinned back, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. “We’re good,” I had said simply, my gaze meeting Evan’s. And for the first time in a long while, I actually believed it.
Pandora gave us both a warm smile, as did Dorcas, and I felt a sense of relief. The worst was over. We would have a lot to figure out still, but at least we weren’t running anymore. Not from each other, anyway.
We stayed for the rest of the party, enjoying the night as much as we could, and for the first time in a while, I let myself relax. The tension between Evan and I hadn’t completely vanished, but it felt like we were finally heading in the right direction. And that was all I could ask for right then.