12. Evangeline
Chapter 12
Evangeline
I swallow and blink up at him.
Did he just say what I think he said, or is my mind playing tricks on me?
I’m surrounded by the dark aroma of his woodsy scent, wrapped in the familiarity of him. Of the old him. The old us. There are two versions of us: one that belongs in a book’s “then” section, the other in the “now.” One would be pleasant and the other would be cruel.
Tyler is talking to me, but I don’t hear a single word. I’m too aware of the way Phoenix’s gaze is on me. At least, I think he’s looking at me. Since he arrived with my brother at my pool party to babysit, it feels like someone is staring a hole into the side of my head. And it’s doing funny things to my body. Despite the warm temperatures in the pool, my nipples are hard, and I have no doubt poor Tyler is getting a front-row seat to that show.
Something like nostalgic longing stabs me in the chest, but I ignore it.
Although, after yesterday when his thick, hard cock pressed against my stomach, I’m wondering if he’s struggling with similar issues. Maybe not necessarily any form of emotional longing, but his body is still clearly reacting to mine, just as mine is to his. And I hate it. It’s inconvenient and a little concerning, but I’m not sure there’s anything I can do about it.
The pressure at my chin increases, homing my focus back in on the man in front of me.
Or rather, the man now looming over me like a fire-breathing dragon, ready to eat me alive. But not in a good way.
His eyes are so dark they are black pools, filled with nothing but pure loathing. “I said, do you understand?”
He’s waiting for a reply, and I scramble to remember what he’s referring to. His words repeat in my head, and I press my lips together to prevent myself from reacting and nod.
I’ve never been spanked before, and now is certainly not the time to start.
Especially not with Phoenix.
Why are you clenching your thighs then?
There is that traitorous voice in my head again, loud and impossible to ignore. Something coils tightly in my belly.
Phoenix sighs. “So help me God, Evangeline. Use your damn words.”
“Yes, I understand.”
The words come out breathless. Too breathless.
Phoenix’s gaze roams over my face, scrutinizing me, trying to find a crack in my armor, and I pray he doesn’t find one.
After an agonizing moment, and a lingering gaze on my lips, he finally lets go of my face and steps back, pointing at the empty seat on the left side of the large table. “Sit.”
My stomach growls at the sight of the food, distracting me enough from the fact the table is set for only two.
I slide onto the chair, and Phoenix does the same opposite me. I stare at the vast array of options, my mouth watering at the rich scents drifting up my nose. Each dish is more compelling than the next, making it impossible to decide what to eat first.
“I hope you still like Greek food.” Phoenix reaches across the table for my plate, putting some of everything on it for me.
“I do.” The words come out in a whisper.
I watch him, unsure how to react to this version of Phoenix.
The hard boundaries he drew for us at the beginning of this engagement have quickly turned blurry, transforming him into an enigma. It’s not every day my teenage crush, who almost became my brother-in-law, forces me into an arranged marriage, all while knowing I was the one who put him in jail, and now he gets me my favorite dishes for dinner. The chances of something crazy like this happening seem as impossible as catching sight of a unicorn, yet here we are. Is it too late to choose the unicorn?
When Phoenix holds out my plate, I take it with both hands and say, “Thank you.”
The only reply I get is a nod, which is ironic, considering he all but growled at me to use my words less than five minutes ago. But since I don’t want to talk to him anyway, I focus on the plate in front of me, trying to decide what to eat first .
I might as well enjoy this meal as much as I can, considering every meal has the potential to be my last. I mean, how is it possible he knows about my nine-one-one call, and I’m still alive?
Phoenix finishes serving himself and picks up his utensils, which I take as my green light. The first bite of souvlaki and tzatziki hits my tongue. Fresh and tangy flavors burst in my mouth, and I close my eyes, barely containing the moan that wants to escape. I’m a sucker for good food, not caring if it costs a few bucks and comes from the food stand at the corner.
Phoenix is staring at me. I can feel it, just like I could all those years ago. But now, I ignore it. I focus on eating and nothing else, trying a little bit of everything until I’m full. I leave my silverware on the plate at a perfect four o’clock position and only barely refrain from rubbing my satisfied stomach.
After several breaths, I finally meet Phoenix’s gaze head-on.
The next time you’re late, I’ll put you over my knee and spank your ass.
Of course, my brain uses this moment to replay his earlier words on a loop in my head.
Heat blooms between my legs, and I’m slowly catching on to how seriously screwed I am.
Without thinking, I squirm in my seat, and Phoenix’s gaze flares when he catches the movement. Why does he have to have eagle eyes? Nothing ever goes unnoticed.
One side of his mouth lifts in a satisfied smirk, and I fully intend to keep my gaze everywhere but on him. Manners be damned.
For the rest of the week, both at mealtimes and otherwise, our interactions stay as minimal as possible and, thankfully, without any more comments my brain could construe as sexual innuendos. In a way, we’ve found somewhat of a neutral area for us. A way to co-exist.
During the day, I’m back to my regular schedule of school and volunteering, with Holden as my ever-present shadow. He’s been such a good sport about the volunteer work, and I swear, he’s got everyone at the shelter wrapped around his little finger. I should have known he’d be a total charmer.
Ruby and Mason haven’t cornered me again either, satisfied now that they have seen with their own eyes that I’m okay. At least for now. On the rare occasion that they send me a worried glance, I shut them down quickly, reassuring them I’m truly fine. The last thing I need is for Freddy to get involved because my friends are causing trouble with Phoenix.
Once I’m home and dismissed after dinner, I spend my evenings in my room, catching up on homework and studying.
Just like Huxley promised, my personal items were delivered this week, changing my room into a homier space with photos and my other items. I sorted through all the boxes, and Huxley helped me store the ones I don’t need at the moment in the closet. Somehow, I’m not ready to fully unpack my life here.
Although, it’s not that different from my previous life, other than having Ruby or Mason occasionally drag me out of my room to watch a movie, telling me I study too hard and need a break. This weekend will be my first real test when I don’t have school or work to keep me busy around the clock, at least not the entire day.
But first, I need to survive our first charity event tonight, with another one tomorrow.
I walk out of the bathroom and snatch my phone, groaning at the “check-in” text message from my dad.
Dad
Remember your manners tonight. Everything you do reflects back on us and the company. If the deal with Montgomery Enterprises falls through because of bad press, there will be consequences.
Thanks for the concern and the love, Dad. Much appreciated.
I send him a thumbs-up emoji and open the group chat next. A smile spreads across my face when I see the picture of Ruby, Mason, and Tyler squished together to fit in the frame.
Ruby
Wish you were here. Even you, homebody, would enjoy this party. We miss you!
Me
Miss you too. Looks like fun!
There’s a knock on the door, and I put my phone on the table.
“Come in,” I call out and cross the room for a drink.
The door swings open, and a tall woman walks in. She glances around until her gaze zooms in on me, openly assessing me.
Once she’s done with her perusal, she locks eyes with me. “Evangeline, right? ”
I nod, still taking all of her in because there’s a lot. The colorful hair, the tattoos peeking out from under her T-shirt, the piercings. It’s a whole vibe, and I love it.
“I’m Jo.” She strides over to me with a large aluminum trolley behind her.
My brain finally catches up with my vision, and I plaster on a smile. “You’re my hair and makeup artist?”
She returns my smile and gives me a salute. “In the flesh.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
I grab my diet soda and go to the table, where she’s opening up her cases, and sit in the chair she points at.
The moment my butt hits the cushion, she pulls out one for herself in front of me, sits, and stares at my face.
A few beats later, she nods and jumps up to dig in her bags.
She spreads out a large microfiber towel on the table and places several makeup items on it. She picks an eyeliner and pauses halfway in the air to examine me. “What color is your dress?”
I pause for a moment and cringe, quickly trying to cover it up with a laugh.
It’s time to play your role, dummy.
“I haven’t even checked yet.” My laugh turns awkward. Damn it. Keep it together. “Sorry, Phoenix took care of my wardrobe for me. Let me get it.”
The memory of him telling me at dinner last night that my dresses for our events are in my closet swirls around in my head. And the smirk he wore when he informed me that the dates and event names are written on the garment bags .
Control freak.
Jo doesn’t say anything. I take the opportunity and rush into the walk-in closet.
The rack on the right side is filled with large garment bags, and I grab the one with today’s date. I probably should have checked out the wardrobe when I got home, but Phoenix mentioned a personal shopper, and if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Phoenix would never let me accompany him to events in anything less than beautiful haute couture. This is important to him, and he wouldn’t risk his image by having me look anything but well put-together.
I tug down the zipper and push the garment bag out of the way.
A low whistle comes from behind me.
“Well, hot damn. Does your fiancé know how to pick a dress, or what?”
Jo steps up beside me, and I don’t correct her about the fact a personal shopper is to thank for this and not Phoenix. Not my fiancé.
There’s no denying the gown is beautiful—with golden beads, a high choker, and elegant off-shoulder pearl sleeves. The dress itself is see-through with a nude underlining attached. Simply breathtaking.
Jo claps her hands and rubs them like an excited child. “Let’s get you ready. Phoenix won’t know what hit him when I’m done with you.”
I settle in the chair and close my eyes.
Jo works in silence, but after a while, I almost sense her curious energy around me.
“So . . .” She studies me. “Holden said you and Phoenix have known each other since you were younger. Are you childhood sweethearts?”
I stare at her, probably too long, but digesting this takes longer. The urge to snort or laugh at her comment is followed closely by bursting into tears and spilling my guts to this random stranger.
Typically, I excel at putting on a fake mask and charming everyone around me, but those battery levels are almost empty. Occasionally, there are moments when they work perfectly, but then they drain again. Having to be on everyday all day this week has been too much.
Her blue eyes bore into mine when I finally manage to look at her again, and she flinches at whatever she sees on my face.
Yup, those fake mask batteries are utterly depleted.
And at what better time than when I have not only one charity event to get through by Phoenix’s side this weekend but two?
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. We don’t need to talk about it. I promise.”
I sigh and exhale loudly. “No, sorry. It’s just complicated.”
Her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. “I understand complicated.”
“Phoenix was engaged to my sister. She died a few days before he went to prison.”
Jo stops what she was doing mid-air and stares at me. “Well, maybe I don’t understand complicated, after all. Wow. Mmm, okay. I understand why you might feel weird talking about your relationship.”
“I guess I’ll have to get used to it. ”
She hisses through her teeth. “I bet the press will have a field day with this, I’m so sorry. Especially since they’re still all over Phoenix being a free man again.”
“I can imagine.” I squeeze my intertwined fingers in my lap, counting to five, then easing the pressure.
She adjusts a clip on top of my head and weaves a strand of hair through her hands. “You haven’t seen all the headlines about the prodigal son’s return?”
I shake my head as much as I can in this position. “I stopped reading tabloids and online gossip a long time ago. I learned it’s better that way.”
She briefly considers that, twirling the curling iron in her hand. “I guess I can see why. I probably wouldn’t want to read all the gossip about myself either.”
“It gets old fast, especially when they flip on you and turn into vultures at the drop of a hat. I’ve had enough of that with my sister and Phoenix for a lifetime.”
Her high ponytail bobs. “I feel bad for even bringing it up. Sometimes, I have a talent for putting my foot in my mouth.”
I lift my hand and wave her off. “It’s okay. Like I said, I probably have to get used to it anyway. I’m sure the press will go nuts over this new development.”
She steps away and admires her handiwork with an excited glimmer in her eyes. “Well, at least you will knock the air out of every single person there tonight. Let’s get you in that dress, shall we? I cannot wait to see Phoenix’s face when he sets eyes on you. Fiancé or not, he will have to beat the guys away from you with a stick all night long.”
Her chuckle is adorable, so at odds with her more tough-looking exterior, and I can’t help but smile at her .
A real smile.
After a quick bathroom stop, Jo helps me into the dress.
We walk out of my room together, heading down the long corridor until we reach the large landing leading to the massive staircase.
Phoenix and Holden stand at the bottom of it, deep in conversation, until Jo calls Holden’s name, and he glances up at her. His eyes widen when he sees me, but then they volley back to Jo, who’s bounding toward him.
With a hand on the rail, I slowly descend the stairs. Each step is measured and careful, giving me the time to school my expression as much as possible.
Like before, I sense Phoenix’s gaze on me.
I hate the turmoil it causes inside me. The soft tug at my middle, how my heart switches to an excited gallop, the fire that ignites in my lower belly. A fire I’m sure can burn us both to the ground if we’re not careful.
When I can’t stand it anymore, I lift my gaze and let it collide with his.
We have barely talked all week, but what started as cold hatred in his gaze has slowly turned into a somewhat neutral, almost civilized gaze over the week.
Now, only undisguised desire and appreciation pool in his dark depths, and that realization stuns me so much I stop paying attention to the stairs and stumble in my heels.