It wasn’t that he was ignoring the knock at the door. No, it wasn’t that at all. He knew it was Mackenzie who was on the other side, and he wanted to see her, he just…needed to make his way off of the couch to get to the door, and that wasn’t something he was looking forward to. The bottle of Firewhiskey that Caradoc had sent over had definitely gone to good use, seeing how it was almost halfway empty already. But perhaps some other person could see it as still being half full.
Evan wasn’t one of those people.
Pushing himself off of the couch, he made his way over to the door, twisted the knob and pulled it open to see Mack waiting. He leaned against it and stared down at the book that was in her hands. He could only imagine what he looked like. He didn’t look bad because…well, Evan never looked bad, unless he was bleeding and dying…which, sadly enough, was quite often. But he looked less primped and proper than he usually did. His shirt wasn’t tucked in, and his tie was hanging loose around his neck. It felt as though it were choking him before.
Stepping to the side, he gestured past him into the hallway. “Come on in.”
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