13. Nick #2
“It means this room will be living rent-free in my head for a long time.” I craned my neck to look around. “Now this is a vibe.”
The bedroom was even more opulent than the rest of the apartment with the same cathedral ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows.
A king bed on a platform dominated one side of the room.
Evan’s comforter was big and fluffy and a dark navy blue, and his pillows were the same shade, only made of satin. Or silk.
A massive two-sided fireplace separated the bedroom area from what looked like a small sitting area with a chaise, something that could have been a hammock but appeared to be floating, and a lamp that was more art than lighting fixture.
The furnishings were the same dark wood as the floors, and the almost-black walls somehow made the room seem warm and sensual rather than gloomy.
In one corner was an open entryway that I assumed led to a closet, and a heavy, ornate chandelier hung over the bed.
The chandelier was probably the most interesting part of the room.
The fixture itself looked like an abstract bundle of wires and metal rods all bent intentionally into a complicated ball, but the light projected onto the walls and ceiling was shaped into branches, like how the sun or moon looked as it filtered through a heavy tree canopy in the woods.
Evan walked over to a panel of sorts and tapped a few buttons. The chandelier dimmed, then went out. Some sort of recessed lighting was built into the insanely high ceilings and bathed the room in a soft glow as they turned on.
“Do you ever wonder about people with binoculars peeping on you while you’re in this giant sky fishbowl?”
“No.” He leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. Naked chest . I swallowed heavy. “In fact, I kind of enjoy the notion. That’s why I spend so much time walking around in the nude. If they’re going to look, I might as well give them a show.”
“Great. Now I have that mental image of you while I’m trying to be mad.”
He shrugged, his eyes dancing with laughter.
“Where’s the door to your office?” I asked.
“Through there.” He pointed at the wall.
“Um, Ev? I hate to break it to you, but that’s not a door.”
Smirking in that way that was as sexy and disarming as it was annoying, he went to the wall and pressed on a piece of wainscotting. The wall swung open, revealing a heavy-looking wooden door.
“You have a literal secret room and you use it as your office ?” I tsked. “You could have made a sex dungeon or a hidden library or a sensory deprivation room.”
“A sensory deprivation room?” He closed the door, wall, whatever it was.
“Yeah! Don’t you ever wish you had a place to go when you get overstimulated? Just a nice, quiet room with lots of comfy things and no outside stress.”
“Not sure that would be considered sensory deprivation, but a room like that is appealing. And my office has an entry from the hallway, so it’s not a secret room. The door is hidden for aesthetic purposes.”
“No getting distracted.” I crossed my arms and focused my attention on Evan. The liar who lied. “Talk. Now.”
He motioned for me to follow him to the sitting area of his room. He perched on the chaise part of the chair. I looked at the floating hammock thing.
It was more of a round suspended platform, big enough for two people to lie down on, and covered with pillows and fluffy blankets. Now that I was closer, I could see the thin wire-like cords holding it to the ceiling.
I waved my hand at the confusing contraption. “Is this a rich person’s version of a sex swing?”
Evan made a weird sound, like a cross between a splutter and a cough.
“Why is it so big? Are you a swinger?” I snickered. “A swinger who swings on a swing? Have you had sex on this thing?”
“Does sex with myself count?”
“I’ll allow it.” I gingerly sat on the edge of the platform. “Eeek!”
The world tilted as the hammock swung backward, throwing me off balance. I landed on my back, my feet in the air, as the thing swayed like a pendulum taking me along for the ride.
“Goddamn stupid…” I tried to sit up but only managed to flop around like a fish out of water as the thing swung in a wide arc. “Mother effer!”
“Are you alright?” Evan asked, his voice heavy with laughter.
“Peachy.” Giving up, I lay back on the platform and accepted my fate.
The swinging slowed, then stopped. A warm hand circled my thigh.
I glanced down. Evan was holding the hammock still and looking at me like I was a puppy in a pet store window.
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I understand.” He made a face, like he was trying to stop smiling but couldn’t quite manage it. “Do you need some help getting up?”
“Nope. The hammock gods have spoken. They’ve claimed my soul. This is my home now. I have become one with your rich-dude sex swing.”
“I’m really sorry, Nicky.”
“Can you help me up? I wasn’t lying when I said this thing claimed me.”
He clasped my hand and helped me sit up. “Good?”
“Mmhm.”
He sat back down on the chaise.
“Why did you lie to me? And don’t say to protect me. I want to know why you thought you needed to protect me.”
He sighed and raked a hand through his damp hair. “Because that’s what I do. I protect people.”
“Nope. Don’t accept that. Try again.”
“Because…”
“Because you think I’m a stupid kid who can’t take care of himself?” I supplied.
“That’s not it.”
“Then what is? Please, Evan. Tell me. I thought we were friends. I thought you trusted me and—”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have hidden this from me.”
“What do you want me to say?” he snapped, his eyes blazing with something I couldn’t read.
“Do you want me to tell you it’s because of all these things you’ve just decided are my motivation?
You want me to validate all the terrible things you think about me?
Fine. Tell me what to say and I’ll say it. ”
“I want you to tell me the truth!”
“I did!”
“No, you didn’t. You told me a bullshit story about how you want to protect me because that’s your job. That’s not an answer.”
“I never said that was my job. I said I protect people.”
“But what does that mean?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like. I protect the people I care about. I don’t care what I have to do, what it costs, or what the consequences are. If you’re mine, then you’re mine . And I protect what’s mine.”
I stared at him in shock. He considered me his?
“The moment that asshole brought you into this is the moment he went on my shit list. I won’t rest until he’s caught and dealt with.” He paused. His face softened. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Nick. This situation between us is… It complicates things.”
“Then uncomplicate it for me.”
“I should have told you the truth. But I didn’t hide it from you because I think you’re weak or flighty or can’t take care of yourself. Doesn’t make what I did right, but I’m so used to people expecting me to solve their problems that I just do out of habit now.”
“What do you mean?”
“The people in my life don’t care how I fix things, as long as they get done. They don’t want to know the details or the full truth of the situation, or my methods. They just want the problem to go away.”
“Maybe I am a na?ve kid, but what kind of shit are you involved with that you need to use these questionable methods? You buy and sell companies, right?”
“Technically, yes.”
“So how does that create a world where you get stalked and kidnapped and have people try to kill you? And what kind of shit are your friends and family doing that puts them in positions where you need to fix their problems?”
“I can’t go into specifics, but let’s just say that some of my father’s dealings haven’t been completely above board.”
“Is that a way of saying he’s done or is doing illegal shit without saying it?”
He nodded.
“Not shocking. I got weird vibes from him.”
“My dad?”
“Yeah. Can’t put my finger on it, but he made my brain itchy. Kinda like lemon face and my old bosses. Something about him is like…off. But your mom and sister are awesome. Especially Emily. She’s officially my favorite person in this family.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m still mad at you,” I threw out. “You explained, thank you. But that doesn’t mean you automatically get a pass for lying.”
“I suppose that’s fair. Emily won’t stop gushing about you either.”
“Really?”
“Are you really surprised after you two ganged up on me during the tasting? Or how you spent the whole time we were finalizing flower arrangements last week chatting like sleepover buddies? I haven’t seen her giggle that much since she was a tween.”
“In our defense, you made it really easy to gang up on you at the tasting. You should have known better than to give your opinion on things.”
“I thought that was why I was there? To give her my opinion so she could choose the right menu for her guests?”
“You’re hopeless.” My eyes went to the ceiling for a beat, my sigh theatric.
“Your job as the man of honor is to validate her choices. Unless she’s saying she wants liver and onions as her main, and ambrosia salad instead of a cake, then your actual thoughts are not necessary.
Your job is to tell her she made the right choice even if you don’t think it is. ”
“But…that makes no sense. Why ask for my opinion if you don’t want it?”
“You really are clueless. Why do you think she chose you to help her organize her wedding?”
“Because I’m her brother?”
“Exactly. You’re her brother and she wants you to be there with her, literally right next to her, while she gets married. She chose you out of all her friends, most of whom are already married and who would be way more helpful with all the nitty-gritty of planning a wedding.”
He blinked at me, his mystified expression fading to understanding.
“You know that dumb stereotype that women start planning their weddings when they’re little girls?”
“Sure.”