Rory pulled up in front of a modest brick-and-shingle home on County Road 79, a mile or so outside Sag Harbor Village. Across the street, she spotted a deserted public park with baseball fields and tennis courts. Since lunchtime the sky had turned dark and heavy with impending rain. Despite the ominous weather, she couldn’t deny the excitement she felt.
She got out of the car and approached the house, following a narrow path through the grass. Rory looked over her shoulder. Was her car too visible out here? Would Isabel see? She told herself that she was being ridiculous. Isabel wasn’t on her way here. It was silly for her to even be thinking about that.
She walked back behind the house, and when she saw Evan and Jeff’s guesthouse at the other end of the backyard she could feel butterflies start to flit around her stomach. A pit of gravel lay in front of the house, with weeds growing out of it. A well-used hibachi grill sat right by the front door, a package of white sandwich bread on top of it. The place looked like a cross between a twentysomething crash pad and Grey Gardens, but it didn’t matter. It was Evan’s place. And he was waiting for her there. He opened the door and stepped out into the overgrown grass.
“Welcome to the shithole,” he said with a grand king-of-the-castle sweep of his arms.
Rory laughed. A raindrop plopped onto the tip of her nose, and then another hit the crown of her head. She ran toward him. “I think it’s starting to rain.”
“Then you better get inside,” he said.
She reached him, but he stayed in front of the door, not moving.
“Um, you’re not letting me inside,” she said, standing in front of him.
Before she knew what was happening, he leaned down and kissed her. She put her arms around his neck and surrendered to the kiss, letting it build until he put an arm around her waist, bringing her closer. Her hands found his hair. His hands traveled up and down her back, holding her closer and tighter to him. The passion that had slowly gone out of her connection with Connor came back now in full force, igniting emotions in her that she’d forgotten she had. She wanted this guy. And even more important, he wanted her.
Slowly, he pulled away. The rain was coming down steadily, and she realized that her clothes were damp. “Do you want to come inside?” he asked.
“Is Jeff home?”
“He’s out. And he will be. All day.” He took her hand and started to lead her into the house.
“Wait,” she said, stopping him. “I was sitting in my car for ten minutes trying to decide whether or not to drive away.”
He waited for her to continue.
“She’s one of my best friends. I can’t do this to her. It’s not fair.”
“But I ended it, Rory. I even told her that I have feelings for someone else.”
“But you didn’t say that it was me,” she said.
He bit his lip and sighed. “No. I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”
“Look, we can take it slow. But there’s no reason anymore for us not to be together.” He braided his fingers with her own. “Not if we want to be.”
“Except that she’s my best friend.” Rory looked up into his green eyes, searching for a reason not to trust him. “Do you do this a lot?”
“Do what?” he asked, baffled.
“I don’t know you. For all I know this is your MO. Going out with one girl, then deciding you like another girl…”
He laughed. “I told you how old I was when I got my first girlfriend.”
“Sure,” she said.
“So does that answer your question? And do you want to come inside before we both get soaked?” he asked.
They walked into the house, and Evan turned on a lamp. Rory looked around. The guesthouse was indeed small, and the decor made it look like it was trapped in the seventies, though not in a cool, retro way. There was so much shabby, mismatched furniture that she could hardly walk around, and there was a strong smell of mildew. For a moment she missed the Rules’ house, with its high ceilings and beautifully decorated rooms, each and every objet d’art and coffee-table book placed just so. But then she caught herself. There was no way that she’d become this much of a snob. Not so soon.
“Do you want something to drink?” Evan asked, opening the orange fridge. “I’ve got SunnyD and 7UP. Jeff has beer. Or what about to eat? We have ice cream. No, excuse me, we have gelato.”
“Gelato sounds good,” she said, sitting gingerly on the ancient-looking couch.
Evan brought over two mismatched bowls, each containing two huge scoops of lemon gelato. “Okay, get ready for a party in your mouth,” he said.
“I can’t believe you said that.”
Evan laughed.
“Seriously. Sometimes you are just painfully unfunny.”
“But I’m still cute, right?” he said.
“Yes, you’re still cute,” she said.
He leaned down and kissed her again, and she felt herself go limp. It was as if they’d been a couple for years. She couldn’t believe how easy this was.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.
“Okay. Hold on. You just finished dating Isabel Rule. The Grace Kelly of East Hampton. How can you possibly say that I’m beautiful?”
Evan looked deep into her eyes, tilting her chin with his hands. “If we’re going to work out at all, you’re going to have to let me give you a compliment, okay?” he said.
“Okay,” she replied.
“Especially when it’s true.”
When he kissed her the next time, she didn’t pull away.