Chapter Fifteen

“Eve!” West yells, chasing after me.

I leap the steps two at a time. The cameras!

If you ever try to run from me, I’ll hunt you down. I’ll make you suffer.

Gideon’s words bang through my head and propel me faster up the stairs. What if that picture shows up somewhere? What if he sees it?

“Eve!” I hear West racing up the steps behind me a fraction of a second before he grabs my arm. “Stop. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say, tugging my arm free. “I don’t like my picture taken, that’s all. Is that so hard to understand? Not all of us live for fame and glory.” It’s a horrible response, and I know it.

He frowns with the insult. “That’s not fair.”

He’s right. It’s not. But I turn away and keep climbing.

West lets out a defeated sigh. “Eve. Please stop.”

I do, but I don’t turn to look at him, and several quiet seconds pass.

“What do you want?” I finally ask.

“I…I want to help you,” he mumbles.

Slowly, I turn to face him. “What did you say?” I ask, not even sure if I heard him correctly.

But he doesn’t respond. In fact, he doesn’t even lift his head to look at me, and I begin to wonder if he said anything at all.

A lot of weird seconds pass as I stare down at his bent head and defeated posture and about a million things go through my mind. But what I land on is—does he need my friendship as much as I need his?

That last thought has me softening with the realization that I think West might be lonely. “Hey,” I whisper, and he lifts his head to look at me. There’s so much in his eyes right now—confusion mixed with hope—but nothing happy. I want his happy back.

“Why don’t we forget what just happened,” I suggest. “Sound good?”

His expression gentles, looking so relieved it makes me glad I said what I just did.

“I know you have the day off.” His face brightens with anticipation. “Will you spend it with me?”

I want to say yes, but I know I should say no. I wish my life was anything other than what it is.

West takes the rest of the steps up until he’s standing on the one below me. “Somewhere between me asking you to spend the day and right now, your brain wandered off.” He wraps his hand around my bare knee and strokes the back of it with his fingers, and I try to ignore the tingles that sends to all the parts of my body.

“No cameras,” he reads my mind. “We’ll wear hats and dark glasses. You’ll see. No one will bother us.”

I think about all the times he and I have gone running. All the times we’ve been on and off buses and in and out of venues and hotels. It’s true. Usually reporters snag him behind stage or at the hotel. Fans get him coming out of venues. I’ve never once seen him get hounded just randomly out in public.

“Plus,” he continues, “it’s New York. We’ll blend in more than anything.”

My resolve slips a little. “What are you planning on doing?”

His eyes crinkle as he continues stroking the back of my knee. “Grand Central Station, Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, eat in Little Italy.”

Those are the exact things we talked about when we were looking at the map. Knowing he remembered fills me with all kinds of silly glee. “And if I say no?” I tease.

He pouts. “Then I’ll just go all by my little old self.”

I chuckle.

West tilts his head to the side and lowers his fingers to tickle my calf. “So…?” He strokes back up to the underside of my knee and just a little higher to the back of my thigh. “Eve?”

I shift away, stepping up to the landing. I can’t think when he’s touching me.

“Please,” he begs.

“Okay,” I finally say, giving into the silly glee with a laugh.

His face brightens again. “Really?”

I smile. “Really.”

And he smiles back, but it’s not his usual grin. It’s more of a sweet one, a genuine one. “Cool.”

Yeah, cool.