Chapter 3
The night was a blanket of black outside, but Sarah's world was suddenly ablaze with a different kind of darkness. Chloe's voice cut through her trance. "Sarah, you in for a takeout feast?"
Sarah's fingers danced over her phone, the message burning a hole in the screen. She shoved the device into her pocket, changed her clothes, and told her roomies she had to jet. "Something's come up," she said, her voice a mix of mystery and determination.
Chloe's brow furrowed. "It's pushing eight. Where to?"
Sarah just flashed a cryptic smile, slipped into her shoes, and vanished into the velvet night.
By nine, she was knocking on Evan Parker's door, her heart doing circus tricks in her chest. She was a woman on a mission, propelled by a force she couldn't quite name.
A fresh scent greeted her as she entered, along with the sight of Evan lounging like a panther, tablet in hand. He threw her a look that could melt steel. "Kitchen's stocked. Starved myself waiting for you."
Sarah's pulse hitched, but she marched to the kitchen. Fresh ingredients awaited. He knew her schedule, the clever bastard.
She cooked up a storm, the 'bouillabaisse', a masterpiece of tangy-savory temptation. Evan's nostrils flared at the scent, and he quirked an eyebrow in approval. "Bouillabaisse?"
"Problem?" Sarah shot back, setting the table with a clatter.
His chuckle was pure sin, a sound that had her cheeks catching fire. "It's perfect," he purred.
He sat down, the air crackling with unspoken words. Evan's eyes locked onto her neck, where a mark blazed red against her pale skin. It looked suspiciously like a love bite, a souvenir from an encounter she wasn't ready to unpack.
The tension thickened, a smoky haze between them, as he began to eat. Each bite was loaded with more than just flavor; it was charged with the electric current of the unspoken. Evan Parker's smirk was the kind that could set a thousand hearts on fire, the kind that sent shivers down your spine and left you wanting more. He lounged there, all casual and cool, the very picture of temptation as he devoured the seafood feast with an appetite that was nothing short of sinful.
Across from him, Sarah Hayes was a bundle of nerves wrapped in confusion. Her trip to the powder room had revealed a telltale hickey that screamed last night's indiscretions, and now, she was all tangled up in a web of should-she-explain-or-should-she-not. But as she caught her own wild-eyed reflection, she snapped. Screw explanations. Screw whatever twisted thing this was with Evan. She was starving, and not for his infuriatingly sexy glances.
With a huff, she straightened up, her stomach rumbling a battle cry. "I'm out. This chef's clocked off," she announced, her voice steady but her heart doing the cha-cha in her chest.
Evan didn't bother looking up, just grunted something that might've been words, but who could tell? Sarah was already halfway out the door when she nearly crashed into Cameron Davis, whose arrival was as subtle as a bull in a china shop.
"Sarah... do you live here?" Cameron's question was drenched in suspicion, his hand frozen mid-knock.
"Nope. Just here on business," she tossed back, sidestepping his curiosity.
But Cameron was like a dog with a bone, and before Sarah could escape, he'd barged in, his nose twitching at the scent of culinary seduction. "What kind of work? Wait, what's that smell?"
Evan spared him a glance that could freeze hell over, but Cameron was too busy being consumed by a green-eyed monster. "Your girl's jet-setting, and you're here eating like a king?"
The news of Sophia's departure hitched Sarah's breath, but she was already slipping out the door, her escape almost complete.
Cameron, still hell-bent on stirring the pot, turned his interrogation beam on Sarah. "What's the deal with you two?"
Before she could untangle the words, Evan's voice, smooth as aged whiskey, floated over. "Let her go, Cam."
That was Sarah's cue. She bolted, leaving the boys to their standoff.
Cameron, now alone with Evan, couldn't resist the spread before him. "Are you eating your feelings because Sophia's flying away?"
Evan's response was a nonchalant shrug, his eyes void of the drama Cameron was fishing for.
"Whatever, man," Cameron finally sighed, diving into the feast Sarah had left behind. The first bite had him moaning in culinary ecstasy. "Damn, this is good!"
"Sarah's magic in the kitchen?" he mused, connecting the dots. It made sense; Evan Parker, the man with a palate as picky as a cat with a PhD, was clearly under her spell.
Cameron shot Evan a look that was all winks and nudges. Evan, in return, deadpanned, "Eat your food, Casanova."
Minutes later, with the plates polished clean and his belly full, Cameron leaned back, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "Who knew our Sarah was moonlighting as a gourmet chef? Girl's got skills."
Evan Parker, with the careless grace of a man who knows his worth, flicked the cigarette to life, the ember glowing a sardonic red against the creeping shadows of the room. Sophia's flight-boarding time ticking like a time bomb.
"Evan," Cameron ventured, his voice a real concern, "you do know it's almost ten, right?"
No response.
Cameron tilted his head, "Is this what breaking up looks like? Becoming strangers with memories?"
Evan exhaled a plume of smoke, the scent of rebellion mingling with the tension between them. It hung there, a silent testament to all the words they weren't saying.
Prior to Cameron's departure, he paused and recollected, uttering with newfound insight
"Wait, I remember now. Sarah's grandma was a gourmet cook. Now it all adds up why she's into cooking!"
Evan Parker responded with a non-committal grunt.
Cameron Davis moved closer to him, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, "You think you... might fall for her if you hang out more with her?"
Evan's eyes narrowed, a storm brewing in their depths. "No," he said, and that one word was a thunderclap in the quiet room.
Instead of returning to her university dormitory, Sarah Hayes opted for the familiarity of her Old Town apartment. The refrigerator was desolate, but there were enough remnants to whip up a simple meal, using her grandma's secret sauce. Sarah Hayes, with the taste of her grandmother's secret sauce still lingering on her tongue, scrolled through her Insta feed, the blue glow of the screen casting her in a lonely light. Her roommates' messages popped up, playful and brimming with curiosity.
"Skipping out on us for a hot date?" Chloe's winking emoji teased.
Sarah's fingers hesitated over the keyboard. Evan Parker's chiseled features haunted her thoughts, a ghost from a crush long past. But now, with Cameron's words about Sophia echoing in her mind, a bitter pill to swallow. She knew he was off-limits. Not that she was surprised.
She sat on her couch, lost in thought.
The apartment was eerily quiet. While showering, she noticed the red mark on her neck. Must be the paint ball. Rubbing it only made it sting. She put a hot towel on it and changed into her pajamas.
The ring of her phone sliced through the quiet, and she glanced at the caller ID—Helen Hayes, her mom.
With a sigh, she picked up.
"Hello."
"Did you come back from the orientation?" Helen Hayes asked, her voice filled with forced cheerfulness.
"Yes."
Helen laughed, "That... have you found a job yet?"
Sarah's response was curt, "No."
Helen sounded taken aback, "Ah? Didn't you say you were looking for a job?"
"Jobs are hard to find, I just got here not long ago."
Helen was quick to suggest, "Go work at the restaurant..."
Sarah closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, "Okay, I'll go check it out tomorrow."
Helen sounded pleased, "You know, your sister has been sick a lot recently, this month's living expenses..."
"I know." Sarah cut her off.
Helen was even more satisfied, "If you find a job earlier, it doesn't matter whether we give it to you or not, right? Your grandmother left you a lot of money, we all know....."
Sarah's patience snapped, "Have you ever given me living expenses?"
Helen was taken aback, her breathing slightly heavy. After a moment, she stuttered, "You this...."
"I'm going to sleep." Sarah hung up the phone.
Back in the world of academia, Sarah navigated the sea of majors, settling on finance—a life raft in an ocean of uncertainty. Her friends scattered to their respective fields, leaving her to attend classes in solitude.
Her head ached slightly from the previous night's escapades, but the monotone lectures were oddly soothing. After lunch, she headed to the library to meet Wendy Manson. The library was bustling with students, the only available spot was next to a boy sleeping by the window.Sarah hesitated before taking the seat. She opened her book, the sunlight hit the back of the sleeping boy's head and arm.
The campus library, a refuge of knowledge and whispers, offered her sanctuary. She claimed the last vacant seat, a lone island in a room awash with students. There, amidst the rustling of pages and the soft hum of concentration, Sarah could almost forget the complexities of love and family.
Almost.
The boy, a vision of tousled hair and sun-kissed skin, was a living, breathing embodiment of every 'do not disturb' meme Sarah had ever scrolled past. And there she was, her gaze flickering between the lines of her book and the dangerously tilting tome perched like an ill-fated Jenga block in front of him. Her heart did a little skip, a prelude to the chaos about to unfold.
With the reflexes of someone who’d spent too much time catching her phone before it hit her face in bed, Sarah reached out to avert the paperback catastrophe. But fate, that cheeky minx, had other plans. Her wrist was ensnared by the warm grasp of the boy, Evan Parker, as he emerged from the clutches of slumber with a voice husky with sleep, "Stop it...."
Evan Parker. The name sent a jolt through Sarah, her pulse a traitorous hashtag trending towards #awkward. Her struggle to break free was a silent notification that pinged his consciousness to full alert.
"It's you...." His tone was a drawl, lazy like a Sunday morning meme binge.
Sarah Hayes was a deer caught in the headlights of his sleepy gaze, and just when she thought she’d sink into the floor, enter Wendy Manson, her lifeline, waving with the enthusiasm of someone who’d just found the perfect GIF to describe their day.
Snatching her moment, Sarah bolted towards Wendy, leaving Evan to sit up and yawn, the epitome of 'I woke up like this' chic.
A fleeting confusion crossed his face.
Something was missing.
Oh, right.
Her hand. It had been surprisingly soft.
A chuckle, low and throaty, escaped him.
