The English and the Scot
(This has taken me a lot of work so please don't steal it as yours and all of that stuff. Copyright and all.)
The third time in a month that Eva's car was in the garage at Teller-Morrow was no accident.
It started with a new thermostat. Her red two-door Alero coupe kept overheating, leading to a tow and a ride in the truck with a boyish man who had a clipped Mohawk flanked by tattoos. The estimate was accurate, given by a kind, portly man with frizzy hair pulled back into a pony tail; they installed the part quickly as Eva waited in the small office with a beautiful, aging biker's wife.
Since then, something drove her back, as she found her car suddenly needing routine maintenance she had usually ignored. A week and a half later, Eva pulled in for an oil change, preferring to wait over an hour rather than make an appointment. She sat in the small, grungy office as the mechanics finished installing an alternator on a white GMC Jimmy. The woman with dark brown hair and light blond highlights looked annoyed as she waited in the dingy office postered with topless women.
Eva came prepared this time with her favorite early 20th century British novel loaded on her smartphone. Seated where she could watch the mechanics, or bikers, as she knew they were, she read the same sentences over and over. She found watching them under the hood of the GMC and eventually working beneath her car much more stimulating.
This third visit, only three weeks since the first ride into what could only be described as a compound, she admitted was too much. Eva felt ridiculous asking for a tire rotation when they obviously were only two months old, barely any wear recorded on the treads. The same attractive fiftyish woman looked at her with her head tilted and a half smile as she wrote her information down on yet another repair ticket. As the woman she overheard one of the mechanics call, "Gemma," walked out into the garage, she knew she was caught: she wasn't here for her car. Instead she was here because she couldn't get enough of him.
"Hey, Mom," Jax said as Gemma walked into the garage toward him.
Gemma rolled her eyes. "You have another admirer, Jax."
"Way to go, laddie," Chibs congratulated Jax, patting him on the back. "At lease' she's a hot one," he said, clipping off the end of words with his thick, Scottish voice.
"Her?" Jax said grinning, nodding toward the office, meeting eyes with the tall woman with long, light brown hair before she quickly looked down to her phone.
"You better tell her about Tara, Jackson. I'm tired of her hanging out in there with her puppy dog eyes."
"Okay, Ma," Jax responded.
"Give her a ride home and tell her that her car will be ready later. I don't need to watch her staring at you all afternoon," Gemma ordered as she walked back to the office in her high-heeled, knee-high black boots.
"Oooh. Poooor Jackie with all the lov'ly ladies efter him," Chibs teased, pushing him toward the office.
"It's a tough life, man." Jax laughed, walking away.
Eva quickly shifted her eyes back to her smartphone. They all were looking at her: Gemma, the blond one with the baggy clothes and exaggerated swagger, and the Scot with a little gray hair at his temples. What the hell am I doing? She thought. These are bikers! Not just bikers, not like my brother Kenny who rode his Harley everywhere, but full outlaws, the notorious Sons of Anarchy who run this town.
Gemma walked through the door with the blond one following behind her. He wore a large white t-shirt, a leather motorcycle vest (what Eva would learn was a "cut"), and baggy jeans.
"Hey, it's gonna be a while 'til we get to your car, so let me give you a ride," he said.
"Okaaay…" Eva responded. "I'm Eva," she introduced herself.
"Jax," the blond replied.
Eva gathered her things and said, "Thanks," looking at Gemma. Gemma gave her a fake, wide smile before turning back to the billing at her desk.
"So what's your address?" Jax asked as they walked toward the tow truck.
"Um. Can you take me to the high school instead?" Eva mumbled.
"Sure," Jax answered, as he walked around to the driver's side.
Eva climbed into the truck and looked back at the garage. Well, I've done it. I've annoyed them to the point that they don't want me there anymore. What am I, a seventh grade girl? Her cheeks began to redden at the thought.
Eva gazed out of the window as they drove through Charming. Although it was only a few miles from Teller-Morrow to the school, the drive seemed to take forever.
Breaking the awkward silence, Jax asked, "So you work at the school?"
"Ya," Eva replied, turning her gaze back forward. "I teach English."
"I never liked English in school, but now I write most days," Jax offered.
"Really?" Eva asked as she turned her head to look at him with her eyebrows up.
"Yep. I'm a biker who journals," Jax said, smirking.
They pulled into the parking lot of Charming High School. Jax stopped at the side door beside the office before clearing his throat. Ahem. "I know you have been coming to the shop a lot," he mumbled.
"Oh my God," Eva whispered, covering her mouth with her hand as she looked down at the floor.
"It's okay. It's okay." Jax tried to assure her. "You don't have to be embarrassed."
"But I am. I'm so sorry. I won't come in anymore," Eva stammered.
"I mean, ya, come in if you have in problems with your car. It's no big deal, it's just—you should know—you're gorgeous and all babe, but I'm getting married."
"What?" Eva looked up and stared wide eyed at him.
"I'm engaged, so nothing is ever going to happen with us. You seem like a nice girl and I thought you should know," Jax explained.
"You think I've been coming to the garage because I like you?" She said, staring at him, amused.
"Well, ya…" Jax's voice trailed off.
"Um. Wow. Um. I mean, you're nice looking and all, too," Eva chuckled, looking away. "But I've been bringing my car in so much because I can't stop thinking about the Scot who works there."
"Wha—you mean you're hot after Chibs?" Jax stared at her with his mouth open.
"Chibs, Yes. Well, this is awkward," Eva answered.
They both sat there laughing for a few seconds before Eva thanked him and got out of the truck.
"We live in a sad world Bobbay when ya have to turn down an ass like thot," Chibs said, watching Eva walk to the truck. He wore slim fit black jeans, the wallet chain hanging down from one side and a shop shirt with cut off sleeve and frayed edges, "Teller-Morrow" embroidered on one side of the chest and "Chibs" on the other. Two lightened scars on each cheek exaggerated his mouth into a perpetual smile, a grayish black mustache and goatee on his face.
"Yes, we do my friend," Bobby added as he walked out of the garage toward the clubhouse.
Honestly, it was good to think of something else, something funny and simple as a crush this woman obviously had on Jax. Everything here at SAMCRO was in chaos: Juicy-boy going RICO, the sheriff lockin' up Clay and Tara a few weeks before; Opie dead; Piney dead; Kozick dead; Tig losing his daughter like thot, the nomads. Chibs felt like he was back in the old days in Belfast. Blood everywhere. He sighed and went back to replacing an engine fan in a maroon Ford Taurus.
About fifteen minutes later, Jax pulled up in the tow truck. He smirked as he got out and walked toward the bays.
"Did ya let the girl down easy, lad?" Chibs hollered at him.
"Oh yeah." Jax replied, shaking his head. "You should have been there, man."
"Why's that? You give her a parting gift, you devil?" He teased.
"Nope. Thoroughly humiliated myself, though," Jax confessed. "I gave her the speech about how she seemed like a nice girl. Then, she told me she was after you, not me. She burned me bro."
Chibs laughed and grabbed him by the shoulders. "You can't have 'em all, Jackie. Gotta leave some of the ladies for the rest of us."
"So, are you going after that, man?" Jax inquired. "Something tells me she's not going to be ignored."
"Ah. Too much for me, son. Besides, when would I have the time? I have all of this to keep me busy," he said as he nodded toward the engine of the Taurus. "That's love, my brother," he chuckled.
"Come on. Even you get lonely," Jax grinned.
"That's what I've got you for," Chibs winked.
"Well, if you like her or not, I'm not taking her car back. That's on you. I've embarrassed myself enough for a day." Jax ordered.
"Ay, so be it," Chibs agreed, putting the last bolts of the engine fan into place.
Eva yawned as she stood over the copy machine, printing off the seniors' tests. Last night, she tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, unable to sleep. Finally, in the early hours, she dreamed, dreamed the haunting dream about Mike. His yellowed skin was wrinkled over his gaunt frame as he lay in the rented hospital bed. His shallow breaths caught in his throat; he choked and gasped. Eva wanted to reach out to him, there in the bedroom. She wanted to hold his hands with the bluish gray fingernail beds. She wanted to help him go, to whisper love to him, to tell him she would be okay without him, but she couldn't. Eva wasn't Mike's wife. She was, still stunning at 50, refined, educated with a slight southern drawl. Stella reached out to Eva, handing her a soiled bedpan and telling her it needed cleaned as Mike dissolved into the air, thousands of microscopic pieces of light rising upward.
Eva blinked and gathered the warm papers from the machine. She came to Charming to leave Mike behind, her lover, her best friend. He was dead and gone, back in that other world. Six months after he succumbed to heart failure caused by his cancer, his lungs filled with fluid, he was still with her. In her dreams he was alive again, or worse: dying, dead, gone and grieved over. Eva was alone. She had packed up her belongings and driven to California, filling a sudden void in the English department of Charming High School. Instead of packing up her grief and sealing it away, it seeped out into her dreams, her thoughts.
The Scot was a welcome diversion. He drew her in and made her forget, made her feel giggly in her adolescent crush.
At around four o'clock, after grading the juniors' essays over abortion, gun rights, and the war in Afghanistan, Eva began to get restless. Someone would be calling soon, returning her car and reminding her how ridiculous she was, a juvenile, really. Maybe it would be the blond cocky one, Jax. They could send "The Queen," as Eva began to think of her, Gemma. The kid with the Mohawk could come or possibly the one that reminded her of her brother.
I suppose I will have to just deal with the humiliation, she thought, half- smiling to herself.
The call came at 4:45pm, Gemma saying the car was done and asking where she wanted it brought. Eva made arrangements to have someone bring it to the front entrance of the old wing of the high school. She gathered her purse and locked the outside of her door before heading down the east staircase. At least I got everything ready for Tuesday.
Chibs came to a stop at a red light at the main intersection in town, headed toward the high school. He noticed something that appeared be charging in the cigarette lighter. As he waited, he slid the cord through his fingers until he found a pink iPod wedged between the seats. He pressed play just as a man in the blue pickup behind him laid on the horn.
"SOUNDS SO REAL I CAN HEAR IT…SO WHYYYYYYYYYYY CAN'T I TOUCH IT?" Blared over the radio.
Chibs grabbed the volume knob on the car stereo and turned it down. Buzzcocks. Hmm. He leaned out the window extending his middle finger to the pickup behind him and yelled, "FUCK OFF!" before pulling away.
On the way through town, he figured out how to navigate through the menus as he glanced up at the road, then back down at the iPod, moving his eyes ahead of the car, then down again as he recognized some of the bands: Arctic Monkeys, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Led Zepplin, The Kills, Cream…
Well, Aye can't fault her musical tastes, can Aye? He sat the iPod on the passenger seat as he parked in the front of the original school building. Only one car, a silver, late model Buick sedan waited for another teacher nearby.
As he turned the car off, the woman, "Eva" the ticket read, walked out of the double doors. As he got out of the car, she hesitated for just a moment, slowing her steps before walking toward him.
"Tires are rotated Missay, ready to go," Chibs looked at her extending the keys.
"Thank you." She looked at her reflection in his black sunglasses and took the keys from his hand. She paused for a second before she turned back to the building, not knowing where else to go.
He didn't expect her to walk out like this: flirtation, inappropriate advances, even blushing or dashing away, but not the calm way she handled it all. Different. Sure. Unashamed.
A voice came out of his mouth and said, "Done for the day, are ya?"
Surprised, Eva turned back to him and answered slowly, "I got everything done I needed to."
"Care for a tour, then? Aye haven't been in a school for some 35 years," Chibs revealed, the slight trill on the "r." What the hell? He questioned himself. Ya don't need no goddamed girl right now.
"Um. Sure. Of course," she said, surprised, and she led him to the front door, unlocking it again. She could almost feel him looking her up and down. Eva looked back at him and asked, "Thirty-five years? You're not that old…"
"No," he confessed, "but they let me go early."
The first floor of the three-story brick building had only five classrooms with restrooms for both boys and girls and a wide central hallway which broke off into a T toward the main entrance. It was five steps below the ground level, reached by a gradual slope from the main door and steps on each the east and west entrances. There was yet another T which led off from the first floor hallway, past the principal's office and teachers' lounge toward the newer additions. Eva explained that the English, Spanish, history, and social science classes remained in the old building, while math, science, home economics, and special education were housed in the new. The hallways were lined with lockers, some with combination locks.
As they ascended the east stairs to the second floor, Eva was more than sure Chibs was staring at her ass. It only made her mildly uncomfortable. In her slim, boot cut weathered blue jeans, buckled black leather sketchers, and fitted plaid long-sleeved top, she felt pretty good about herself, even on a causal day when the kids were out of school.
On her immediate right as they arrived on the second floor, Eva announced, "This is my room." She opened the door with her keys into a room of beige desktops attached to navy blue plastic chairs on smoky blue, heavy traffic carpet. The walls were grayish white, peppered with brightly colored grammar posters and large dry erase boards filled most of the west wall. A few movie posters, The Hobbit and The Hunger Games showed an attempt for relevancy with the students. Her desk, in the northwest corner of the room and flanked by short, white, filing cabinets was sparse, neat.
"Oh, I see." Chibs said as he explored the room, moving toward the large sliding glass windows across the east side of the room. He pulled a shade back and peered out the window before turning to read the dry erase board. "Brave New World," he said, reading the dry erase board. "Test Tuesday?"
"Yes." She answered.
"They know et?" Chibs asked, pointing at the board.
"Ya. I mean, we've studied it for about a month," she responded, folding her arms.
"Don' ya think we're there already, love?" He turned toward her.
"What do you mean?" She asked. Where is he going with this?
"Babies created in labs instead of their mothers' womb. Denying contra-ception to the poor, giving us a slave class. Our economy based on consumption. Drugs…the war on terror…" He walked up to her, "meaningless…sex…" breathing the words before turning away, looking at the board again, "Reality TV and the goddamn Kardashians…"
"I didn't know you knew Huxley," Eva exhaled, trying to even the tone of her voice, trying to seem unaffected. She felt like she was melting into the floor.
"Oh yea," He said, rolling his eyes at her. "I'm all educated. Surprised? How 'bout the rest of the tour?" Chibs said as he walked back to the door.
Eva walked him through the second floor, then upward on the west stairs, toward the landing illuminated by large window of glass block, finally back east on to the third floor. All of the eight classrooms were the same as the hall: blue-gray carpets, off-white walls, loud posters with motivational quotes attempting to make it look more like a school and less like as an office.
She forgot; although it was the Friday of Easter break, she wasn't the only one in the building. Billie Shotski was just locking her door outside the first classroom on the left. In her mid-fifties and only about 5'2" with a short, frizzy, whitish blond halo of hair she turned to clip at Eva, "Good afternoon Ev—" before stopping herself. Her eyes widened when she looked at the biker behind Eva. She pulled her key from the door. "Bye." She blurted, sticking her chin out and up at Eva before scurrying down the hallway toward the east stairs.
"Good…bye…" Eva trailed off, confused. Suddenly, it occurred to her that Chibs wore his black leather cut, affiliation emblazoned upon it in white letters. She didn't see it, but knew it was there. He carried a damn handgun in the back of his jeans. Of course, he did. Why wouldn't he? He was a Son, one of the armed militia of Charming. She could almost feel the heat of it rising off of him. Guns weren't foreign to her; her father, a Vietnam veteran, kept guns, a few rifles, a 45. He even carried one in his pickup. The gun itself didn't bother her, instead, it was the fact that it was loaded, hidden from view, and may have been used to plant a bullet in someone.
Like all schools in California, this was a "Gun Free Zone." What the hell are you doing? You could get fired for this shit! That wasn't true, at least, it wasn't likely. The Sons ran this town, kept it safe, kept the drugs out, kept the violence out, at least with the exception of a few skirmishes that were quickly resolved. She was suddenly terrified, not of him, but of herself.
"That's about it in this building," Eva stated as they walked across the third floor hallway. "I really don't want to go into the other buildings, if that's okay."
"Fine," he replied. "Enough schooling for this lad." They began descending the stairs.
After they walked out of the building and she locked it, it occurred to her that he didn't have a ride. No Harleys outside of the school, no tow trucks or inconspicuous vehicles parked nearby. Am I going to have to take him home or back to the garage?
"I'm hungry. Should we go eat?" Chibs asked.
"What? Oh, that would be great." For the first time all day, Eva thought about food. It occurred to her that she hadn't eaten since last night. She gulped coffee all day, but had forgotten to eat anything. The ache in her stomach wasn't just because she was nervous around him; she was hungry, ravenous.
"I'll drive ya." He held out his hand for the keys. She noticed how clean his hands were, unusual for a mechanic. Eva wondered how much time he actually spent in the garage and how much time he hid them underneath touring gloves. She handed him the keys and walked around to the passenger side of the car. As Eva got in, she moved her iPod off of the seat and put it in the console.
"Some nice music ya got there," Chibs commented.
"Thanks," Eva replied. "Most people don't get my music tastes. I'm kind of a snob."
"Really," he said. "An' whys thot?"
"I listen to bands no one else knows. I'm constantly on the lookout for new music." She answered.
"Thot's not so different. I do that some times. It used to be much harder before I started with Spotify."
"You listen to Spotify," she said, turning her head sideways, incredulously.
"Ya. I mean, not like all the time, but some times. Ya." Chibs explained. "Juicy-boy got it for me a while back."
"Which one is he?" Eva inquired.
"Shaved head with hair down the middle and tattoos. Thot one."
The empty, bricked streets lined with angle parking made it easy to find a place for the car. About one in four store fronts were vacant downtown. Overgrown weeds peeking through broken foundations where buildings once were made the street like a smile with missing teeth. Closer to the courthouse square, one could find an attorney. Farther out, stood a Dollar General, its neighbor a pay day loan shop.
Chibs led Eva into the Walnut Inn. With green awnings, it stood as the jewel among the stagnant growth of downtown. It had been closed and opened half a dozen times in the past hundred years, even surviving attempts to make it an apartment building. The current owners repaired and restored the original walnut stairs and curved banister in the open lobby.
Eva surveyed the room and looked down at the hexagon tile. The front desk stood cleared, abandoned. The room was empty, minus a few large potted plants. "Nice," she commented.
"This way, Love." Chibs led as they walked through the double doors into the bar.
The restaurant was housed in a large room with six foot walnut paneling on the walls, the rest of the 14 feet to the ceiling painted a cream color. The floor appeared to be oak and a long bar ran the length of interior wall. Chibs walked her over to one of the simple faux wood Formica tables and pulled out a maroon vinyl-padded chair and gestured for to her sit. Two other seated couples across the room turned to stare at them before looking away. He sat on the other side of the table, facing the door.
"I like coming here. It's elegant without me havin' to change into dressy clothes," Chibs explained, stretching his arm across the chair beside him and leaning back.
"I can see that." Eva responded. "It's gorgeous. How's the food?"
"Excellent." Chibs answered as a young woman wearing a button up white cotton shirt and short black skirt set a menu in front of each of them.
Chibs asked for a Jameson, Eva ordered a White Russian.
"Ah. The Dude," he commented, referencing The Big Lebowski.
"The Dude abides," she replied, winking at him with a smirk.
After the waitress left the table, Eva picked up her menu: fried finger foods, baskets of fish or chicken with fries, a few salads, sandwiches, steaks. "What's good?" She asked him.
"Everything, Love, I'm gonna go with a steak," he answered.
"Sounds great. I'm starved."
"We can't have thot, now, can we?" Chibs said as the waitress returned with their drinks. "The young lady will have a steak," He handed her the menu.
The waitress looked at Eva, "Which one?"
"Ribeye: 12 oz., medium rare. Baked potato: sour cream and butter. Can I also have a glass of water?" Eva ordered, giving her the menu.
"Ya like it bloody?" Chibs asked. He turned to the waitress, "I'll have the same. 'Cept make 'em mashed." She left them and walked to the swinging double doors of the kitchen.
"So what's your real name?" Eva inquired.
"Who says et ain't my real name?"
"Boys love to give each other nicknames. They shorten first names, use initials or call people by their last names. Sometimes, it's an inside joke. And you're in a club… a family. You all have family names, I bet."
He looked at her and paused. Then, blinked. "Filip."
"Filip. I didn't think your mother named you 'knives.'"
"Thot's cause ya didn't know me mother."
Filip was right: the ribeyes were excellent, juicy and seasoned to perfection with just the right amount of marbling. He ate all of his meal and she finished all but the last few bites of potato, stuffed.
The conversation that flowed easily between them surprised them both. The drinks flowed freely, too.
Eva confessed she came to California to escape, a fresh start. Filip had too, coming from Belfast with Clay (the former president) to leave his past in Ireland. She learned that an older man he worked for gave him a copy of Lord of the Flies one day, which led him to reading as an adult. She asked what kind of work but he only told her that it was different jobs here or there. Eva suspected IRA, but also knew she had a vivid imagination that often got her into trouble. They both became more and more flirtatious.
"Jax told you I had a crush on you, didn't he?" Her fourth drink gave her the courage to ask.
"Ya, Jackie-boy was a little disappointed."
"Are you disappointed?"
"Not…yet." He said, leaning across the table toward her.
She laughed.
"So, you're into bikers? Are ya?" Filip asked, leaning back.
"No," Eva shook her head.
"No? Ah come on now, of course ya are!" He teased.
"Nope."
He shook his head. "Ya can't tell me thot you don' go for the black leather, the danger, the dirt and grease and your titties up against some bastard's with a bike humming between your legs?"
"Now that you mention it, that all sounds like fun, but it wasn't why I kept coming to the garage," Eva argued.
"No?" He waited for her answer.
"No, I just wanted you."
"Do ya still want me, Love?" Filip leaned forward again.
Eva blinked slowly, hesitated, then answered, "I really want a smoke, can I get one from you?"
She was drunk. Filip was, too.
After he paid the tab, they wandered back out into the street. He offered her a cigarette and she took it and he lit it for her. She smoked when she was drinking, but rarely otherwise.
"We're goin' to need a ride. Best I'm not drivin' now."
Eva nodded, "No way I can drive you anywhere."
"Eh. I'll call up a prospect." Filip pulled his flip phone from his pocket. "Ya. We're goin' to need a ride. Uh, third and main street. Get your ass here."
"I'm just going to walk… It's not very far," she told him.
"Wait here with me," he insisted and put his arm around her.
"I live…right there." She jerked her arm forward and pointed at the brick building about 100 feet away.
"Oh Christ!" Filip exclaimed letting her go and looking at her, dropping his shoulders. "Why didn' ya say so? Come on then!"
He held his arm around her shoulders as they crossed the empty street and walked down the sidewalk. He smelled of leather, cigarettes, Jameson, and a faint memory of aftershave.
Instead of entering the arched entrance on the front of the building, she led him around to the north side door. She unlocked the door, but closed it again before turning around, running into him.
"Thanks for dinner," Eva said. Filip's face was inches away from hers.
"Was it whot ya wanted?" He whispered.
"Yes." She smiled and blinked just as he kissed her.
At first, Filip kissed her slowly, carefully as she reached one arm around his shoulder and the other across his cheek, then to the back of his head, fingers through his hair. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling his way across her back and the shape of her waist. He began kissing her greedily as she pushed herself toward him. He thrust her against the brick wall.
When Eva stopped to take a breath, she moved her face away from him. "I need to go. You need…to go."
A few seconds passed.
"Ya." He let go of her and put his hand over his mouth and pulled it down his bearded chin. "Right. Okay." Filip exhaled.
"I'll see you then?" She asked as she opened the door.
"Ya, Love. Good night."
"Good night."
Filip walked to the front of the building. SHITE! I do not need this SHITE! He spotted the black van across the street in front of the inn. "FUCK," He said.
As he got in the van, sitting in the passenger's seat, he pulled another cigarette out and lit it. "Take me to my goddammed bike!"
He didn't say another word.
Eva closed the door and leaned her back against it. She took a deep breath and exhaled, standing there for a minute before she walked across the kitchen toward the living room. Eva fell backwards on her couch less dizzy from the alcohol than from what happened outside.
Why did I tell him to leave?
It was the proper thing, the right thing, she supposed. Besides, he was some outlaw biker. Why should she trust him in her house, let alone trust him in her body? He wasn't just some outlaw biker, though; he was Filip.
She dragged herself off of the couch and walked back to her bedroom, pulling off her jeans and panties, putting on a pair of pink striped cotton boxers with a black, wide satin drawstring. She moved into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Ew. Eva hated the way her mouth tasted after smoking. However, it didn't bother her while she was kissing Filip.
Just then, she heard a knock at the door. Spitting out the toothpaste and taking a quick slurp of water, she walked the length of her long living room back into the kitchen. Eva moved the blinds back and saw Filip standing there.
She opened the door. "Hey," she said.
He leaned against the open door frame. "Thot didn' quite go how I'd hoped." He moved his eyes down to see she had changed out of her jeans.
"Me either," she gazed at him as he stepped through the door and pulled her to him again, kissing her hungrily as she began to tug pull at his clothes.
Eva didn't sleep much that night, either.