"Nope," he said without hesitation. "I just have a sense of humor. And a high libido."
"Oh…kay…That's… a lot of information for a graveyard meet-cute." She glanced at Mary's headstone, the irony of their location making her smirk despite herself.
"Honesty is my love language," he quipped, tilting his head toward her.
"Well, subtlety is mine," she replied. "So… I'm gonna go." She took a deliberate step back, adjusting her coat and the strap of her purse, trying to disentangle herself from the absurd intimacy of the conversation.
"It was nice to meet you," she added sincerely. And it truly was. Even if he was completely insane. Especially because he was completely insane.
"You too, Eva. Really."
"I'll walk you to your car," he offered, already stepping forward, as if he'd already assumed she'd say yes.
"I didn't come with one," Eva replied, arching an eyebrow, suspicion lining her tone. She still couldn't decide if he was dangerously charming or just the kind of man who thrived on chaos.
"How about I drop you off?" he said, gesturing vaguely at the road beyond the cemetery gates. "It's the least I can do. You are my sister's guest, after all." He tilted his head slightly toward Mary's tombstone, a small nod of respect that undercut his bravado.
Eva hesitated, her eyes narrowing. "I don't really know you," she said carefully.
"Take a picture of me," he said, leaning in just slightly, "send it to your closest friend. Tell them you just got into a car with me. If you end up missing or dead, they can hunt me down. Make it dramatic. Say something like… 'His eyes are the last thing I saw.' It'll help with the media buzz."
"Deal." She pulled out her phone, angled it quickly toward him, and snapped a photo as he threw up a thumbs-up, his grin wide, and somehow infuriatingly charming in the golden morning light.
"Feel safer?" he asked.
"Not really," she replied flatly, already texting the photo to Brian with a quick message: Getting into a car with this lunatic. If I go missing, avenge me with style.
Alex chuckled and gestured with a flourish toward the waiting vehicle. "Milady, your chariot awaits."
They walked side by side across the gravel path.
Alex wasn't joking when he'd said she had a better body than the doctored pictures suggested. He'd seen some other real images of her, but what he hadn't expected, standing beside her now, was how little any photo could capture the real Eva.
The subtle curve of her shoulder, the sharpness in her eyes, the way she carried herself—grace tempered by raw strength. He caught himself stealing glances at her more than he probably should have.
As she climbed into the car, Alex caught himself staring.
"Take a picture," Eva said dryly. "It'll last longer."
"Already did," he shot back, sliding in beside her. "I'm framing it in my brain gallery. Very exclusive exhibit." His grin was shameless.
The car pulled smoothly onto the city streets.
"What are your plans for the future?" Alex asked, breaking the quiet. "You know… as a disgraced ex-media personality. I don't see a job in your future."
"Wow… thanks."
"I'm sorry I'm being blunt," he said, leaning back in the leather seat, hands relaxed on his thighs. "I just… I'm curious. You're smart, you're scrappy, you've got—fuck, I don't know—fight in your eyes. But let's be honest… cancel culture didn't just cancel you. It deleted you. Vanished. Poof. And you're still standing. That's impressive."
Eva scoffed, shifting in her seat. "I don't intend to stay down for the rest of my life," she said, "if that's what you're getting at."
"I followed the work you did with my sister," Alex said, leaning slightly toward her. "It was good. Really good."
"Yeah," she murmured, gaze returning to the window. "That job… it put us in trouble, I guess. Someone out there wasn't happy with the truths we uncovered. We poked too many sleeping bears, never realizing one of them had fangs."
"Did you know she was a lesbian?"
"I knew."
"She never told me," he admitted quietly. "We may have been step-siblings, but we were close. She trusted me. She knew she could tell me anything, and I would have saved her from herself if I could." His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the playful bravado that had filled the morning fell away, leaving only raw, unspoken grief.
"She was afraid," Eva whispered. "Afraid of being judged. Afraid of losing the version of herself she worked so hard to curate. Even when I told her people didn't care about that stuff anymore… clearly, I was wrong." Her fingers clenched in her lap.
Alex gave a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah… the world's real accepting," he murmured. "Until it needs a scapegoat."
"You know… it sucks," he continued, jaw tightening. "She didn't tell the one person who would've stood in front of a bus for her."
"Sometimes we save the worst truths for the people we love most," she said quietly. "Because their disappointment is the hardest to survive." She felt him shift slightly, turning his head toward her, eyes locking onto hers, tracing the lines of her face.
"I tried to get her to embrace who she was," Eva continued. "But she was just too afraid. When she got married… I couldn't support it fully. I knew she was trying to bury that part of herself… but she had her mind made up." Her fingers twitched on her lap, and she forced herself to glance out the window, fighting the tightness in her chest.
"She always had this smile, you know?" Eva added. "The kind that said, 'I'm okay,' even when she wasn't. I hated it. And now… I'd give anything just to see it again."
Alex didn't say anything. He simply let his gaze linger on her.
The car rolled to a gentle stop in front of Eva's house.
Turning toward him, she offered a small, uncertain smile. "Want to come in for a cup of coffee?" she asked.