Audrey — Chapter 4 : No Strings Attached

He walks in, and like a total idiot, my face goes red. Again. Something about Evans just scrambles me into a flustered teenager.
“Hey, Audrey.”
“Hey, Evans.” And yep, cheeks on fire.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asks, smooth as ever.
I flick a glance at Tara and Mindy, both grinning like gossiping hyenas, then back at him. “Not much. Why?”
“Wrong answer,” he says, grin already loading. “You’re coming with me.”
“Oh, am I?” I arch a brow.
“You are.” That smug smile should be illegal.
“And why exactly would I do that?”
“Because we’re gonna have some fun.”
“Ooohhh,” Tara and Mindy chorus, absolutely no shame.
I laugh. “What kind of fun are we talking about?”
“I’ve got a few ideas.” He leans closer, grinning like he owns the room.
My face? Redder than a firetruck. Fantastic.

Then out of nowhere,
“Hey, Flingo.”
I nearly jump out of my skin. Max materializes right next to Evans like some grumpy bar-poltergeist.
“You wanna flirt with my bartender, that’s your business,” Max says. “But if you’re sticking around, you’re buying.”
Evans straightens. “Uh… yes, sir.”
“Hey!” I glare at Max.
“What?” He shrugs. “Not like you were gonna stop him.”
I roll my eyes and turn back to Evans. “Whiskey on the rocks?”
“Yes, please.” His voice shifts, more polite, less cocky. Max effect, undefeated.
“Coming right up.”

~

Evans sits at the bar stool, finishing his whiskey. I’m in the breakroom, changing out of my shift clothes.
“So,” Mindy drawls, grinning ear to ear, “what do you think he wants?”
I snort. “Gee, Mindy, what do all guys want? A Sudoku partner? Obviously sex.”
“Obviously,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Still jealous, though. He’s hot.”
“Yeah, and a drunk,” I mutter, peeking out at him.
“Bingo,” Max’s voice cuts in from nowhere. He’s just standing there like he teleported in.
“Jesus, Max! You need a bell or something.”
He ignores me. “One night, he’s already face-down on the floor. Real keeper material.”
“At least he’s cute,” Mindy shoots back.
Max raises his brows, unimpressed. “Cute doesn’t keep the lights on.” Then to me: “Kid, not my place, but you can do better.”
I cross my arms. “Then don’t make it your place.”
He turns away, muttering, “Just saying. Don’t waste yourself on a drunk.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, Dad,” I call after him, all sarcasm.

Max disappears toward the front, leaving me with Mindy smirking like she just won something. Typical.
Max doesn’t usually bother with our personal crap. He’s rude, selfish, and half the time acts like he barely knows our names. But tonight? He actually said something. And I can’t decide if that’s better… or worse.

“So, ready?” Evans asks, words a little slurred.
I raise my brows. “Pretty sure you’re the one I should be asking that.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, way too proud of himself.
“How many drinks did you have, exactly?”
“You tell me, you were pouring.” He winks.
I fold my arms. “At least four. Maybe five. Could’ve been more. You were ordering for half the bar.”
He grins, sloppy but confident. “See? Generous and fun. Let’s gooo.”

Before I can think of a comeback, he grabs my hand.
“Wait, Evans.” I glance toward the bar. Tara and Mindy are already smirking like vultures. Max, of course, is watching with his arms crossed, broadcasting don’t do it without saying a word.
But Evans tugs again, and I actually smile like an idiot. “Fine, fine, I’m coming.”

We step outside into the lot. At the same time, we both pull out keys, standing in front of our cars like some weird showdown.
Evans’s car: a sleek black BMW, polished within an inch of its life. Mine: a beat-up red Chevy truck that rattles when it starts, but I paid for it myself.
“So,” I ask, jangling my keys. “Which one’s it gonna be?”
He looks at my truck like it just insulted his mother. “Yeah… no. We’re not showing up anywhere in that.”

Ouch. Straight to the ego. I glare. Sure, it’s not a luxury toy, but that truck’s the first thing I ever owned outright. It might be ugly, but it’s mine.
“That old thing happens to be mine. Every payment. Every oil change. She runs just fine.”
He notices my tone and backpedals fast. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Just easier if I drop you here after. You work tomorrow, right?”
I sigh, biting back a sharper reply. “Whatever. Sure.”

He slides into the driver’s seat of his BMW like it’s a throne, while I buckle in on the passenger side, still steaming.
Then the music hits, rap blaring through expensive speakers. And before I can even finish, “Evans, should you really be—” he guns the engine.
The car leaps forward.
“Evans!” My hand shoots to the dashboard.
He laughs, slurring, “Relax, I’ve got it under control.”
“Under control, my ass,” I mutter, hanging on tight as the BMW rockets out of the lot.

~

We finally arrive at Evans’s place, and let me tell you, that whole ride was like a roller coaster. The guy behind the wheel drove as fast as a cheetah on stilts, so I was perched on the very edge of my seat for the entire trip.
“Perfectly fine? You nearly killed us,” I shoot back.
“Shhh. We made it.” His grin is ridiculous, and I hate that it’s still cute.

The car beeps as we step out, and his hand finds my waist, sliding lower like he owns the right. “Let’s go.”
We cross the lobby and I nearly choke. “Wait, you live here?”
“Mm-hmm,” he says, smug as hell.
“Oh my god, you’re loaded.” He smirks, proud. Biggest building in this whole town, and somehow he’s dragging me into it like it’s no big deal.

At the elevator, Evans doesn’t even take his eyes off me for a second. He leans in and bites my neck. Oh, I feel aroused. With the ding of the door, he pulls me by the hand as I follow.
The moment the door opens he kisses me deep, pushes me against the wall, and his hands are everywhere. He undresses me with one motion, plants kisses down my neck, and scoops me up in his arms. He’s clumsy, probably drunk, but he carries me to the bedroom anyway.
At the bed he lays me down, still kissing, still touching, everything heated and urgent. And right before it goes further I breathe out, “Evans.”
He pauses, looking at me. My face is burning.
“It’s not real, right? Just no strings?”
“Who knows, Audrey,” he murmurs, leaning back in. “It might get real.”
And before I can answer, he’s already on me.

~

Naked again. His place again. And maybe I don’t hate it as much as I should.
And that’s how it starts. Not a relationship, not exactly, but no strings. Evans is different from any guy I’ve been with. Even though I swear I’m not interested in anything real, it… feels real.

Days blur into weeks, and somehow Evans keeps showing up. End of my shift, like clockwork. We talk, I blush, and yeah, back in bed. Not always sex. Sometimes just talking. Sometimes him dragging me out to some half-decent excuse for entertainment in this town.

Funny thing? I work at Miller’s, one of the “best” bars in Ashford Hollow. And yes, I still can’t believe this dump counts as one of the better places to hang out in this shithole. Evans and I still try other spots (and not just in bed, thank you very much). A greasy diner. A bowling alley with carpets older than me. A café with burnt coffee and too much attitude. Each one makes me appreciate Miller’s more. At least it’s consistent.

Then one night, out of nowhere, while he’s at the bar, Evans says, “Wanna get out of here? Just us.”
I raise a brow. “Somewhere like where?”
“Anywhere that isn’t this town,” he says with that lazy grin. “Weekend trip. You and me.”
I’m still thinking when he leans in, lowering his voice. “You know, forty-eight hours of fun. So many new things to try.” His tone, the way he raises his brows, yeah, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
My face goes red, my brain dives straight into the gutter, and none of this is helping.
“Fine. Let me talk to Max about the time off,” I mutter.
“Yesss.” He pumps a fist like a kid who just won a prize.

I don’t know if it’s a good idea. But I can’t lie, I’m looking forward to the weekend.

To Be Continued