Chapter 15 #2
After Aggie leaves and I’m alone, I drift from one section of the apartment to another, dragging my finger over the furniture. I don’t open drawers or dig in closets. I only look at what’s on display like a guest in someone’s home. Something I owe him for being nice enough to allow me to stay.
There are medals from winning marathons and photos of his extended family.
A piece of paper sits under one. It’s a sign-up confirmation notice for the same race I’m training for.
I slide the paper back into place and move on.
He likes to cook. Gadgets and ingredients line the kitchen counter.
And there’s that one closed door, the one in the hallway that might be an office or bedroom, but it’s locked when I jiggle the handle. I make my way to his bedroom.
Now the entire apartment is dark except for a small reading light next to his bed.
I lie on the mattress, allowing my head to sink into his feather pillow.
I smell the scent of him—rain and leather.
He likes nice things. His sheets are the highest thread count. Expensive watches rest on his dresser.
None of these things matches the man he portrays.
If anything, the items in his home remind me of his brother, Linden.
Even though Evan comes from a wealthy family, he doesn’t flaunt that part of himself.
Though his apartment is nice, he could be living the life of a trust-fund baby in a luxurious high-rise, but he’s not.
It’s another mystery.
My eyes snap open. I sit up straight in bed, the covers falling away, and I grasp at the sheets.
For a moment, I’m disoriented, forgetting I’m at Evan’s.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but I’m sure I heard something.
I peer toward the hall and listen. When I hear a creak, I stiffen.
It could be nothing; the building could be settling.
Still, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand to investigate.
I tiptoe across the room to grab the nearest weapon, a baseball bat perched on a stand on Evan’s dresser. With it raised over my shoulder, I quietly pad out of the bedroom, one cautious step at a time. The wood floor squeaks beneath my feet as I approach the living room.
Then I hear it again, more creaking.
I crouch deeper and clench the bat. The living room light snaps on, and I ready myself to swing at the figure creeping around the couch.
“Evan! Jesus, you scared me.”
I relax my arm, allowing the bat to rest at my side. I’m thankful I didn’t swing. My heart leaps into my throat, and it takes a few tries to swallow it down.
“Sorry.” He holds up his hands, stepping backward.
“I thought you were staying with a friend?”
“I went to stay with Linden, but he kicked me out.” Evan removes his jacket and scarf and tosses them over the back of a chair.
“Why? What did you do?” I lean the bat against the wall and approach.
“Let’s say he decided to entertain.”
I laugh. “He kicked you out for a booty call?”
“Not quite.”
I’ve heard Linden has his own issues with women, particularly with the G in the G&W Agency—Vivienne Grayson. Those two have been dancing around each other since they were toddlers, if I’m to believe every morsel of gossip Lou relays.
“I texted you, but when you didn’t answer, I thought I could sneak in and crash on the couch without waking you. Sorry. I can stay at a hotel.” He reaches for his coat.
“No, of course not. I’ll go. It’s your place.” I move to my overnight tote on the table.
“Stay.” He touches my arm.
I look down at his hand. Beneath his grasp, a patch of chill bumps skitter up my arm and shoot through my palpitating heart. My new crush is affecting me, but after my recent revelation, I wish those impressions would fade, but I’m not sure they will.
“Okay,” I whisper.
I know it’s ridiculous after two rejections, but my hopes skyrocket.
It’s a warning signal I should heed. Even though we’ve been playing each other, I’m light-headed from sensing too much, too fast. Even though this started as a mission for a hookup, I’m discovering potential in Evan as something more.
There’s a mystery behind him I’m anxious to decipher.
Maybe he was right about me. Maybe I can’t handle it.
Maybe he’s a good guy hiding behind a cocky exterior, and he knows one of these days, some girl will discover the truth.
And that’s the exact reason I should charge out the front door.
He doesn’t want more, even if there’s a part of me that might.
“Listen.” I clear my throat. My fingers clasp and twist. “I’ve been wrong to throw myself at you. It wasn’t fair. Obviously, it’s not something I do. It’s not something I’ve ever done.” That I’m aware of.
I back away, reconstructing the barriers so we can be whatever we were before now. For some reason, it’s hard to remember.
“You seem pretty damn good at it,” he says.
“Except for the part where I was rejected—twice.” I chuckle softly.
“I didn’t. I mean, I did.” This time, it’s him stumbling over his words. He glances away for a moment before taking a heavy breath. “Even though we do what we do, you don’t know anything about me. I have a past.”
“I guess that’s the point of a hookup. One night we’re lovers, and the next we’re back to doing what we do.” My words slide out too fast, too soft and unsure. I want him, but I don’t want to want him.
“The truth is, Cait, I do want you. Very badly.”
My lips part. A moment ago, I was ready to run from this apartment, but now his admission holds me prisoner. His honest words rush through me, pinning me to his gaze, making it impossible to look away.
“So take me,” I whisper.