It's About Time (Hunt Family #5) (7 page)

Chapter 8

Back to Annabel

It was late October when I had last seen Evan Hunt. I hadn't heard a peep out of him since that night after we made pumpkin bread at my mom's. It was better that way. I could have easily gotten attached, and I knew it was good to have a nice, clean break like it never happened in the first place.

I started seeing Garret Cooper just before Christmas. A friend from the salon set us up on a date, and we enjoyed each other's company enough that we'd been hanging out at least once a week since then.

As an airline pilot, Garret was gone half the time. That's not just a figure of speech, either. It was literally half the time—three days away, three days home, and repeat the process over and over again for the foreseeable future. He flew the same routes time and time again, but he said that would change as he got promotions over the years.

He was a nice guy. He was handsome and dependable, and he had an easy-going personality. He liked to go rock climbing and mountain biking on his off days, which sort of reminded me of Evan since I'd seen pictures of him doing both of those things in ads for the Square Root clothing line. They could have just been posed photos, and Evan might really know nothing about rock climbing or mountain biking, but in the pictures, he looked like a professional.

Not that I compared Garret to Evan, because I didn't. There was nothing to compare. They were two different people. Garret treated me like a lady, and Evan was all the way over in California, doing who knows what.

At least I thought he was.

That all changed when Mia walked into the salon break room one random morning in May and announced, "My brother's movin' here, y'all!"

I was sitting at a booth across from another stylist when Mia rounded the corner and made that proclamation. Instinctually, I took a sharp intake of breath when I heard what she said. This was unfortunate because I had a sip of coffee in my mouth at the time, and the reflex caused me to suck a little coffee into my windpipe and proceed coughing like crazy. It was a good thing there was a stack of napkins sitting on the table in front of me because I had just enough time to get some of them in front of my face before coffee went spewing out of my mouth. One after another, I coughed, and coughed, and coughed until I finally managed to clear the liquid out of my throat.

By the time I finished, Mia was standing right beside me with her hand on my shoulder, staring at me with an expression of great concern. "Oh my goodness, Annabel, are you okay?" she asked once my coughing fit died down enough for her to get a word in edgewise.

I put my fist to my mouth and let out two more controlled coughs, in an effort to soothe my still-stinging throat. "I'm fine," I said. (cough) "It just went down the (cough) wrong pipe."

"Oh my gosh, that was scary," Becca said from across the table.

"I'm fine," I assured them, clearing my throat for what I hoped would be the last time.

"What were you saying about your brother?" Becca asked, after it was apparent that I was going to survive the ordeal.

My stomach flipped as soon as the question left Becca's lips. I cringed inwardly as I waited to hear what Mia would say. Quite honestly, I preferred Evan being in California. Out of sight, out of mind. (Most of the way, at least.) A little voice in my head started chanting
'please don't say Evan's moving here,'
the second Becca asked Mia to repeat herself.

"Evan," Mia said, rubbing my shoulder as if to make sure I was still doing all right. "He's coming back home."

(cough, cough)

"Like for good?" Becca asked.

"I guess so," Mia said with a shrug. "He put all his stuff in one of those Pods and had it sent over here."

"Is he living with your mom?" Becca asked.

"No, he's moving into the apartment behind my house for a little while before he gets himself a place. It's been empty since we moved in, so we're glad to have him back there. He's been living with us out west anyway, so for us, it's just a matter of seeing him in a different place."

I had to clear my throat again before I could speak. "When's he coming?" I asked, finally finding my voice.

"Today," Mia said. "Nico said they might come by here on their way home from the airport later."

I coughed again. My nerves were in a state of affairs that could easily be categorized as freaking out. I was having a good old-fashioned freak out on the inside, but on the outside, I tried to remain calm and collected.

"He asked about you," Mia added.

I wasn't looking at her when she said it, but I glanced her way instantly to see who she was talking to, and she was staring straight at me with the hint of a smile.

"Me?"

She nodded.

"That's weird," I said, shaking my head like I couldn’t imagine why he would do such a thing.
Why was I the biggest dork on the face of the earth?
My face was turning red, and I knew it—I could feel the blood rising to my cheeks. I slid out of the booth and skirted around Mia, trying not to act like I was in a hurry. "I need to go check my client under the dryer," I said, barely glancing back at Mia and Becca as I left the break room.
Why couldn't I be a normal person and ask Mia what her brother said about me? I did, after all, want to know the answer to that question.
I felt embarrassed and frustrated with myself as I headed out to check my client five minutes earlier than was necessary.

I was booked until roughly seven that evening, and since I ran away from that conversation with Mia earlier, I had no idea what time Evan may or may not be coming by the salon. Mia normally didn't stay any later than four or five in the afternoon, so I couldn't imagine it would be any time after that.

I spent the better part of the day glancing at the door every time someone came in. It was just after three o'clock that afternoon when Nico and Evan came in with Mia and Nico's little boy, Tristan.

I saw them before they ever came in the door, so I had time to prepare myself. I had just come back from the shampoo bowl with one of my regular clients, and I was about to start cutting hair. I could have easily stopped what I was doing long enough to go over there or acknowledge them, but I made the split-second, nervous decision to ignore them completely. They were there for Mia, anyway.

I smiled and carried on with my client, parting her hair into tidy sections and pinning them in place as we talked. I was aware of their presence in the reception area, but I kept my eyes on my client. I heard them tell Amanda they were going to look for Mia "in the back" before they began walking in my direction. There was nowhere for me to go. I was stuck doing this haircut, and Evan Hunt was about to walk right past me.

"Hey there, Annabel," Nico said. He had said that same phrase to me hundreds of times as he walked past that very spot, so I knew it was him who had said it.

"Hey guys," I said, smiling and glancing at them as a group as I held a section of hair in midair. It was a good thing I had a taught grip on the hair, because otherwise my hands would have been shaking. I tried to look away instantly, I really did, but I couldn’t make myself. Evan was staring straight at me when my eyes passed over him, and I couldn’t stop myself from locking eyes with him for a few seconds.

He continued walking with Nico, but to me, it seemed as if he was doing it in slow motion. Everything he did looked like it should be in slow motion with beautiful harp music in the background. Evan no longer walked with a limp, and his scar had faded considerably (at least from a distance). It was still noticeable, but it had lightened up quite a bit. I broke eye contact as soon as it hit me that I was staring at him. I watched them continue past me and down the hall out of the corner of my eye.

"Oh snap," my client whispered as soon as they walked away. "That was that guy, Evan Hunt."

"Yep," I said, dazedly.

"I knew his family owned this place, but I didn't know he came
in here
."

"He doesn't really. I haven't seen him in like seven months."

"I didn't know you already got to meet him," she said, sounding impressed.

"I went to high school with him," I said. "He's from here."

"I know he's from here, but it's still cool to get to meet him. He's like for-reals famous. He got to meet the president and everything—and Justin Bieber. He put a picture of it on his Instagram. He has like two million followers."

The more she talked, the more anxious I got. I was already nervous enough around him as it was. The last thing I needed was for her to sit out here and tell me more good things about him.

"How's your man doing?" I asked, since I didn't really want to listen to her talk about how much she loved Evan any more.

My client started talking about her boyfriend at that point, and the conversation lasted until I finished her haircut. I worked quickly, but it wasn't because I was in a hurry—it was more because I was amped, jacked up, freaking out, whatever you want to call it. I gave her a good haircut and style, but I did it in record time.

Evan, Nico, and Mia had been in the back the whole time, so I assumed they were still in the salon. There was a back door, and theoretically they could have used it, but it wasn't likely since we almost always used the front door.

I hugged my client, recommended some product, and sent her on her way. My plan, as I cleaned up my station, was to sneak out of the front door and go to the nearby coffee shop. I had thirty minutes to kill before my next appointment, and I figured this way I might miss them when they left. It was the cowardly thing to do, but that's just how torn up I was at the sight of him. Sometimes you just have to know your limits, and this was one of those times where I had to run away from something lest I explode.

I took off my apron and stashed it across the arm of my chair before heading to the reception area. "I'm going to grab some espresso," I said

I knew if I said "a cup of coffee" Amanda would suggest that I brew a pot in the break room, so I went ahead and specified that I wanted espresso.

"Can I get ten bucks out of my tips for today?" I asked since I wasn't planning on going to the back to get my purse.

Amanda handed me ten-dollar-bill, which I stashed in my back pocket before heading out the door and down the block to the coffee shop. I felt a bit like it I was in a surreal dream state, and I hadn't even talked to him. It was crazy that we were even in the same town. I walked slowly towards the coffee shop because my thoughts alone were enough to leave me breathless.

I thought of Garret, and what a good guy he was, and how lucky I was to have him. I told myself the electricity I felt when Evan walked into the room was lust and not love, and that I was best just staying as far away from him as possible.

I knew the guy working behind the counter at the coffee shop, and I sat at the bar and talked to him while I drank my coffee. I had been there for about twenty minutes, and was about to reluctantly excuse myself to go back to work, when the door chimed, and I glanced at the person walking in.

It was Evan, and he was alone. His hair was pulled back, and he was wearing jeans and a vintage T-shirt. I scanned him from the ground up before making eye contact with him. I was frozen in place, helpless to do anything but sit there and watch him approach. My stomach was tied in a thousand knots, and I wondered if I could speak if spoken to.

"Are you off for the day?" he asked as he walked toward me smiling.

"Huh? I mean, no. I'm, I was just heading back for my last appointment. It's a corrective color, so I figured I should grab some coffee," I said, giggling nervously at the cheesy stylist humor. I had swiveled as I was speaking and was now sitting on the very edge of the bar stool, poised to get up and head for the door. "It was good seeing you," I said, assuming we had just bumped into each other by accident. I turned to look over my shoulder. "Bye Alex," I called to the barista.

"Bye Bells," he said.

"Bells?" Evan said, with a smile aimed at me.

Somehow, he was standing much closer now. He was only a couple of feet away, and the proximity was overwhelming. I could smell him, for goodness sake.

"Annabel," I said. "But I'll answer to pretty much any variation of 'Bell' since most people just shorten it without asking." I was rambling and my voice sounded funny to my own ears, but at least I was speaking English. My heart was just about to beat out of my chest as he stood there looking at me.

Chapter 9

There was a distinct sensation of warm and cold air hitting me at the same time as I stood in the coffee shop face-to-face with Evan. Honest to goodness, it was as if there were vents blowing gusts of warm and cold air onto my face. I begged myself to get a hold on my nerves and just behave like a normal person, but my body didn't want to listen. My heart was beating so rapidly that it felt like my ears were humming. Evan's hair was pulled back the way it always was in that carefree way that made him seem perfectly masculine. I glanced to the side and cleared my throat.

"It was good seeing you," I said with a smile when I glanced back at him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, pulling back to stare at me when it was obvious that I wanted to step around him.

I motioned to the door with a casual smile. "I had already finished my coffee. I was just headed back to the salon."

"How long does it take you to finish your last client?" he asked.

I swallowed hard as I regarded him. I knew what he was getting at. He was asking me when I would be done working because he wanted to hang out. He was about to ask me to hang out. That was going to be the very next thing out of his mouth; I just knew it. I was pretty sure if I would have looked down at my chest, I could visibly see my heart pounding.

"I'll be done at around seven, if all goes well," I said answering his question.

"Would you want to—"

I knew what he was going to say, and I couldn’t bear to hear him say it and then have to turn around and refuse him.

I cut him off before he could get the words, "Would you want to…
hang out
," out of his mouth.

"How's California?" I asked, pretending that I was going to ask it before I heard him start speaking.

"It's fine," he said. "I guess you already have some plans for tonight," he added, not letting me off the hook that easy.

I smiled at him, and I tried not to make it too regretful looking, but it was difficult. It was Friday, and I had plans to see a movie with Garret. As I stared at Evan, I had the distinct feeling that I wished Garret didn't exist—or at least that I'd never met him.

"I'm going to see your cousin's new movie," I said, trying to throw a distraction into my answer while not being dishonest.

Evan smiled, but I knew he knew what was going on. "That's cool," he said lifting one shoulder in a gesture that said,
I tried
. "Mia told me you were seeing somebody."

The bees. The colony of bees was causing my whole chest to rumble. The thought of him talking to Mia about me caused the bees to come back in full force.

"He's a pilot," I said, feeling the need to say something but not knowing what to say. "He's gone a lot, but if he's home on the weekend, we usually get something to eat and go see a movie or whatever."

Rambling. TMI. I took a deep breath, and reached out to squeeze Evan's arm as I continued to walk around him. I touched it and gave him a quick squeeze, and it was with great difficulty that I made my hand let go.

"It was great seeing you," I said with a big, farewell smile. "You look amazing."

"You look amazing, too," he said as he shifted to watch me walk around him. He was smiling at me, but his smile had all sorts of layers to it, and disappointed was definitely one of them.

I walked out of the coffee shop feeling like my heart had just broken into a thousand pieces. I literally felt a crushing sensation on my chest, like something was compressing me. I could barely catch my breath even though I was only walking. I stopped once I got out onto the sidewalk and took a deep breath, letting air slowly into my lungs and then out.

"You okay?" I heard from behind me. I knew who it was before I turned to see that Evan was standing there. My eyes were watering, but there weren't enough tears gathered to fall onto my cheeks just yet. I stood there with wide eyes, hoping they'd dry if I held them open long enough. I smiled stiffly, knowing I'd just been caught letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"I'm fine," I said. "I just love the smell of coffee."

He gestured to the coffee shop. "I just came over here to talk to you," he said. "I'll walk you back to the salon if that's where you're headed."

"Yeah," I said, somewhat stunned.

"How's Cupcake?" he asked when we fell into stride beside each other.

"She's amazing," I said. "She's at my mom's house. She'll be excited to know you asked about her."

Evan smiled, and we walked a few paces before he said, "Would you ever buy her a ten-thousand-dollar collar?"

I got tickled at that. My nerves were already on edge, and the ridiculous question had me giggling. "Do they even
make
such a thing?" I asked, still laughing at the way the question struck me.

"Yes," he said, laughing along with me. "I saw one."

"Did you
buy
one of those?" I asked, with my face scrunched up.

"No," he said, still smiling. "But I thought about Cupcake when I saw it. I wondered if you'd ever get something like that for her."

"I honestly can't believe they even make such a thing," I said, shaking my head at him. "She looks perfectly cute in the twenty-dollar one I got at Incredipet." We took a few more steps before I added, "Y'all have some crazy stuff out there in California," in an exaggerated southern accent.

He laughed. "North Carolina's got designer dog collars, I'll bet."

"Well, not Cupcake," I said. "I would never even buy
me
a ten-thousand-dollar necklace, much less my dog."

A few seconds passed before he said, "I like your hair like that." He reached up and touched the back of my head, but as soon as I felt his hand there, it was gone again. I had styled my hair up with a scarf woven through like a headband earlier while one of my clients was under the dryer. Paige had actually helped me with it.

"Thanks," I said.

"I can see your dimples with it pulled up like that," he said.

Bam, bam, bam, bam
, my heart pounded. "I can see your dimples, too," I said glancing at him as we walked.

"A pilot, huh?" he asked after a few silent seconds.

"Who, oh Garret? Yeah, he works for Southwest." I slowed my pace walking so that I wouldn't be so out of breath.

"I guess you like him," he said.

I did
not
know how to answer that. Yes, I liked Garret. I liked him fine. But compared to Evan, I didn't like him at all. Come to think of it, Garret was pretty terrible by comparison.

"How about you?" I asked, since I didn't know how to answer his question.

"What about me?" he asked.

"How are things with you?"

"Fine, I guess," he said, shrugging as we continued down the sidewalk. "It's my first day back."

"I heard," I said. "Mrs. Hunt came in to have her hair done early, and she was saying how excited everyone was to have you back."

"My mom?" he asked.

"Dee-dee," I said.

He smiled, and we took a few more paces in silence. We were getting close to the salon when he touched my arm, causing me to slow down and look at him. "I probably should have called you," he said with a sad smile. "For what it's worth, I regret not calling."

"Don't," I said, shaking my head. I had never been good at accepting compliments or apologies, and my instinct was to let him off the hook for whatever he was regretting before I even fully heard what it was.

"Don't what?" he asked.

"Don't feel like you need to regret anything."

"I'm not asking your permission to regret it, I'm just telling you it’s a fact. I should have called, and I'm sorry I didn't."

I smiled and shook my head, feeling completely at a loss for words. I knew the words coming out of his mouth that he regretted not calling me, but was I supposed to figure out that he was saying something more than that? Was he telling me that he wanted to
be
with me?
Was he telling me to break up with Garret and run away with him?

"Please don't be sorry," I said, touching his arm casually right before we approached the door to the salon. I meant it in a
please don't be sorry, because if you are, I'll have to break up with Garret and throw myself at you
type of way, but I didn't say all that. I just said, "Please don’t be sorry," and left it at that.

He opened the door for me with a big smile and gestured for me to step inside. "You can't tell me not to be sorry," he said through smiling teeth when I passed him.

Mia, Nico, and Tristan were standing near the door when we came in, so it was obvious that Evan was hoping to keep them from hearing him when he spoke. I glanced at him with a somewhat fake smile and thanked him for holding the door for me. My heart was already beginning to ache again like it did when I walked away from him at the coffee shop.

"Are you headed home for the day?" I asked, smiling at Mia as I walked through the reception area.

"We're gonna get some takeout and help Evan unpack a few boxes if you want to come by," she said, sweetly.

"I'm, uh, I'm seeing your cousin's new movie, actually," I said, even though going to the movie with Garret was just about torture compared to takeout and box-sorting with them.

"Oh, okay," she said. She reached out to give me a hug as I passed by. "I'll see you in a few weeks," she said.

"Sounds good," I said, knowing she and Nico were headed to California for a couple of weeks and then to Myrtle Beach on their family vacation after that. "It was great seeing you guys," I said with a smile and wave in Nico and Evan's direction as I headed through the reception area and into the salon.

I wanted to walk straight back to the break room and cry. I wanted to fall into a chair and bawl my eyes out. My chest ached and so did my face and jaw. I knew I was on the verge of tears, so I went straight into the restroom. No one else was in there, so I went to the sink, resting my hands onto the edge of it, and letting my weight rest on it as I stared into the mirror. I took a deep breath and washed my hands and cheeks with cold water before heading back into the salon.

I did that corrective color, and it came out fine, but I hardly remember any of it. The terrible pressure I was experiencing on my chest had not faded as the hours passed. I felt heartbroken at the thought that Evan reached out to me and I denied him.
Had he even reached out to me in the first place, or was I maybe remembering our conversation incorrectly?

Somewhere in the midst of that color correction, it occurred to me that I had to break up with Garret. It wasn't about Evan, either. It couldn’t be. I knew I couldn't base my decision on thinking I would end up with Evan, because there was just no way to tell if that was going to happen.

Regardless of the outcome with Evan, his return made me see that I could no longer be with Garret. If the thought of hanging out with Garret seemed like torture by comparison to the thought of hanging out with Evan, then something was wrong.

I felt utterly nauseated at the idea of a breakup, but I didn't feel any better about the possibility of staying with him. Either way, I had a stomachache, and I was totally preoccupied with deciding whether or not I should end things with Garret during the remainder of the color process. I smiled and nodded at my client, and asked questions about what was going on with her life, but I was completely out of it.

By the time I had finished with her hair, I had come to the conclusion that I had no other choice but to break up with Garret.

This would prove to be harder than I imagined.