Chapter 14 #2
Anger has me spinning around and I growl at him. “What was that?”
His gaze bores into me, eyes shadowed not only by the late hour but also by weeks of non-stop go-go-go. Fatigue wafts off him. It’s in the slump of his shoulders, the dark smudges under his eyes, the heaviness in his body he never used to have before we moved into the house together.
The sight of him is a bucket of cold water on my rage.
He’s just as tired as I am. He’s just as sad as I am.
I might not like it, but we’re the only two people in the entire world who know what it’s like to be here right now.
He also lost a sibling he was close to. His life was also upended.
He also became a parent to a little girl overnight and was forced to share a house with someone he hates.
The fight drains out of me. Does it matter where he was or who he was with? Does it matter what he did tonight? He still came home. He’s still here. It’s still just me and him in this together.
“I said, ‘I wish.’”
I frown, my brain sluggishly trying to make sense of his statement. My confusion must be written on my face because Everest shakes his head, drags a hand over his face like I did earlier, and sighs.
“Never mind. I’m going to bed.”
He pushes away from the kitchen island and turns for the stairs. The thought of him leaving me again propels a single word from my lips. “Wait!”
He pauses, casting a questioning look in my direction.
I need to apologize, but the words get stuck in my throat. I don’t know how to apologize to Everest. I’ve never had to do it before. The sentiment is so foreign to me, so unfamiliar, it almost feels wrong. Me? Apologize to Everest? How preposterous.
A beat passes and I’m still standing there with my jaw hanging open. Everest shakes his head. “Whatever, dude. I’m too tired to deal with your bullshit.”
No, wait, don’t go. He’s halfway to the stairs before I manage to force it out.
“I’m sorry.”
He stops, but he doesn’t turn around again.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, feeling like the floor is about to give way under my feet.
I grip the edge of the counter as my heart ricochets around in my chest. It can’t figure out how fast it should be beating or where it should be sending blood.
My head is woozy and my stomach is unsettled. Words tumble out of my mouth.
“For earlier, I mean. I shouldn’t have said what I said. You’ve done a lot for Ivy.”
Slowly, Everest turns to face me, wearing an incredulous expression. “Is that all?”
No, that’s not all. There’s so much more I should say, so much more I don’t know how to say. “Um, yeah.”
He advances on me, like a predator stalking his prey. On instinct, I back away until I’m trapped against the kitchen counter. He doesn’t stop until there’s only an inch of air separating us.
“What are you going to do to make it up to me?”
Indignation flares, hot and bright. Make it up to him? What the hell does he expect me to do? Clean his toilet? Do his laundry? I already do all that shit because he’s not adult enough to clean up after his own goddamn self. I’ve apologized already. Isn’t that enough?
Everest studies me and a smirk gradually appears on his face. “You kinda left me hanging earlier. Maybe you should finish the job.”
His voice is low and it reverberates through the gap between us, hitting me low in the stomach. My breath hitches and my dick stirs.
“Fuck you,” I spit out at him, though there’s not nearly as much disgust in those words as there should be.
Everest's smirk breaks into a smile, a devious, unscrupulous smile. “That can be arranged.”
My hands come up to his chest and stop. I mean to push him away, but my arms won’t cooperate. Instead, my fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt like I’m trying to pull him closer.
Everest peers down at my hands, then up to my face. He cocks an eyebrow in question.
“Fuck you,” I say again because apparently my brain can’t access the part where my vocabulary is stored. But I don’t let go of his shirt. My fingers have taken on a life of their own and no matter how hard I want to shove Everest away from me, they won’t do it.
Everest moves, head bending down like he’s about to kiss me. I freeze, breath caught in my lungs, the rest of my body paralyzed as I wait for his lips to make contact with mine. But instead, they ghost along my jaw toward my ear.
I shiver and tilt my head back to give him room. Why am I doing this? Why am I letting him get the upper hand? I should be fighting back. I should be putting him in his place.
His lips graze my ear. His breath is hot against my skin. My dick is straining against the front of my pants and it’s all I can do to not plaster myself against him like we did earlier.
“You want me,” Everest whispers in my ear.
“Don’t try to deny it. I know you do. I’m the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, aren’t I?
You’ve never stopped thinking about that night in Vegas, have you?
It was so hot. You on top of me, bouncing on my cock.
You want that again, don’t you? I know you do.
So why not give in? Just give in, Owen.”
The image he paints flashes vividly in my mind and the sound of my name rolling off Everest’s tongue makes me shudder with something primal and raw. Desire coils inside me, tight and primed and ready to explode at the smallest trigger.
Then suddenly, he’s gone.
I gasp, eyes flying open to find Everest backing away from me. His expression is flat, closed off and guarded. I search his face for any sign of the arousal coursing through my veins, but all I find is a touch of sadness in his eyes.
Without another word, he turns toward the stairs that lead down to his bedroom in the basement. He shuffles toward them, shoulders slumped with an air of defeat.
I watch as he disappears down the stairs and listen for his door to click shut. Only then do I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The tension inside me unravels.
What the hell just happened? I feel unmoored, untethered, adrift and lost at sea. My life has spiraled out of control and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to rein it all back in and regain some semblance of order. I don’t know how to stop everything from careening even further into chaos.
Everest has worn down my defenses. Since the first day we moved into this house together, he’s been steadily chipping away at them.
An inch here, another inch there. And now my carefully constructed walls are about to crumble.
I’m exposed. I’m vulnerable. And I’m afraid that there’s nothing I can do to stop him.