Chapter Twelve
Lilith
The hours drift by slowly while I’m forced to sit at the table, putting on a smile. I can’t lie, though, the food was amazing. Finger food to start, a whole rack of lamb on a bed of fresh veg, then a selection of tarts, cakes, and other sweet treats to top it off.
And that’s where this night was meant to end.
We met. We ate. We were done.
That’s easy for me to say. I’m stuck in this chair watching Mom and Mr. Crawford playing footsie under the table, while Colter keeps trying to make idle small talk.
I don’t give him the satisfaction of getting it.
He’s the one who put me into this mood of annoyance and rebellion, so he deserves what he gets.
Talking to Misha by text made it easier for a while. It was a great distraction from him, and them, until she dropped out on me. Just my luck? My best friend’s the only girl in the city who can’t stay up after nine p.m.
“You really ought to relax,” Colter says suddenly.
I don’t have to face him to know he’s staring at me again. His eyes give me the same feeling I got when I walked out of Dr. Rice’s office. A sort of prickling on the skin I can’t put into any one particular category. Thrilled, scared, angry, or a combination of it all…
I can’t tell, and I don’t know if I want to find out.
The worst part is how much I hate to admit my heart starts galloping when I do notice. As if it’s betraying me with desires the rest of me can’t get behind. I keep telling myself that it’s because I had the biggest crush on this guy when I was younger.
I think about what Dr. Rice might say. I suppose this is one of the topics I should bring up in our next session. But how do I say I like being looked at by dangerous-looking men without sounding crazy…
“I am relaxed.” Fiddling with my napkin isn’t doing me any favors in selling the lie.
It’s funny looking over at our parents and seeing Alistair giggling with Mom like they’re naughty kids doing something they shouldn’t. God, what I wouldn’t give to be closer to them. To drown out whatever is happening inside me with their gushy, lovey-dovey nonsense.
“They could be at it for hours,” Colter reaffirms my fears of how long this might go on. “We might as well get acquainted in the meantime.”
“I’ll take a raincheck.” Getting to know my future stepbrother isn’t high on my priority list, given how this evening started.
“Feisty,” he scoffs.
Warmth creeps up my body and rests on my cheeks. I bring the napkin up to my mouth, to wipe away some non-existent crumb in order to hide my reaction. I’m suffering enough as is without adding embarrassment to the list.
“Hey, you two,” Alistair calls from his end of the table, a beaming smile stretching from ear to ear. “Sorry to get in the way of your sibling bonding, but we have something we’d like to say.”
Colter turns to his father, and I breathe a much-needed sigh of relief.
“Now, Lilith, I know we haven’t had much time to get to know one another,” he starts, “but your mother and I have been working on this for quite some time.”
Mom takes his hand, brushing her thumb over his knuckles while he speaks.
“I’m not one for soppy speeches, so let me cut straight to it,” Alistair continues, looking down at Mom. “Seeing Lilith and Colter getting along fills me with so much joy.”
Yup, that confirms it. They haven’t left their own little world for a second to see how things were really going with the kids.
“We’re set to marry next weekend. But I can’t wait that long to bring you into our lives fully. Your mother and I have spoken about it, Lilith, and I’d be honored if you’d accept my humble request.”
I don’t like where this is going. Whatever it is, it feels as if I’m being pushed into a corner I won’t be able to fight my way out of, and he hasn’t even gotten to the point yet.
“And that is?” I’m shaking like a leaf caught in a tornado.
Mom’s grip tightens on Alistair’s hand, as if giving him the courage to go on.
“I’d like you to move in with us,” he says, adding, as if it weren’t evident. “Both of you, of course.”
“But we are moving in,” I say, the doubt and terror of his request melting away in an instant. “After the wedding. Mom’s given me a full rundown of the plan.”
“Yes, well,” he says, sounding almost flustered, “After tonight, I can’t wait that long. I’d like it to happen sooner.”
“As in during this week?” That’s still not as bad as it could’ve been. Sure, it means leaving our house in the city, close to school and work behind, but I’m sure the Crawfords have apartment blocks that can be used if the need arises.
“As in tomorrow.” The way he says it tells me I don’t have a choice. He’s bringing it up as a formality. “The mansion has more than enough room to accommodate discretion and privacy, if that’s what you’re worried about. You could spend hours away without anyone ever knowing where you’ve gone to.”
Colter snorts at my side, and then, for the first time all night, his jaw tenses up. It’s as if he’s biting his tongue from saying something. I’m sort of happy to see it, knowing I’m not the only one who was caught off guard by this.
“Thank you.” It comes out of nowhere. There is no acceptance or disapproval in my response, just two words that can be taken in any way they choose to see it. I’m trying my hardest to say nothing more.
Moving in was an inevitability I prepared for weeks ago. Sure, I thought I had more time to get accustomed to the idea, but in the end it won’t change anything. It just means that tonight will be the last night I spend in the home I love. The one Mom and Dad raised me in.
The thought leaves a tightness in my chest. There won’t be any catharsis at the end of the road. No traveling down memory lane in the days leading up to our departure. It will all have to be done in a hurried mess, with no time to dwell on the past.
“Oh, isn’t it wonderful?” Mom responds, her voice shrill and excited, filling the void my response left.
There’s a lot I’d like to say to her rhetorical question.
No, being foremost. I would like to confess the frustration of his offer after that. It was loaded right from the start. Only rather than being backed into a corner, it’s happening in a mansion. I am being forced to smile and appear happy when all I want to do is cry.
A war rages inside me. Some part of me understands how this move is a good thing.
I know that my dissatisfaction makes me seem bratty and obnoxious.
But another side, the part I lean on harder, hates everything about it.
It whispers that the shift is some type of grand tragedy that will end in suffering and woe.
Melodramatic as it might be, the longer I sit on it, the more I regret saying thank you and even entertaining the idea for more than a second. I can see it’s a wonderful idea, but for her, not me. I may not be seasoned and wise to the world, but I am old enough to make my own decisions and choices.
So, saying the first thing that comes to my mind is a bad choice. Now is the time to protest quietly, while preparing for what lies ahead. No good will come of airing my grievances here tonight.
“Thank you,” I say again, hearing unsteadiness in my words. “This is an incredibly generous offer and opportunity, Sir.”
“Sir?” He looks at me as if I’m crazy for saying it. “No, no, none of that. Call me Alistair, or Al. Anything but Sir.”
Colter still hasn’t moved. His icy eyes flicker indecisively.
He seems almost anguished.
Then it hits me.
Colter is already staring at me as if I’m some kind of trophy he wants mounted on his wall.
How’s he going to react when we’re living under the same roof together?
Will his fascination endure, I wonder. Will it become stronger and more pervasive until every thought I have returns to those panty-drenching golden eyes.
Or will it flicker and fade like a flame in the wind.
I don’t pray often, but this is as good a time as any. And if you’re up there, and if you’re listening, please tell me why I want it to be the first one…
With my acknowledgement, Alistair drops back in his chair. Mom squeals in delight, swinging her arms around him for an uncomfortable table hug. They go back to their quiet conversation, no doubt discussing the move.
Colter takes a few more long minutes to process what his father has just said.
“Looks like you’re in it now,” he finally speaks after quiet contemplation. Strangely, he keeps his eyes focused away from me this time. As if he can’t bear the thought of looking at me. Either he doesn’t want to, or he is disgusted by the idea altogether.
I don’t like it. Not one bit.
I’d rather go back to his attempts at idle chatter and small talk than this.
“Seems that way.”
Our night wraps up shortly after Alistair’s announcement and the men walk us out. Alistair and Mom lead the way, Colter and I trailing a few feet behind. And again, he only looks straight ahead. Not focusing on anyone or anything in particular, stomping ahead blindly, lost in thought.
Once down the stairs and across the gravel driveway, I find myself longing for his gaze.
Sure, it creeped me out a little in the beginning.
It’s not every day someone’s brazen enough to drink you in as if they don’t have a care in the world.
But I liked it more when I was the moody grump, and he was trying to brighten my spirits.
Whatever this is terrifies me.
Colter opens the car’s door when we reach it.
“Lilith,” he stops me from getting in, by taking my wrist in a firm but gentle grip. And just when it looks as if I’d lost his attention for good, I find his steely gaze studying me once more. This time it’s different. His look is more focused, as we lock eyes.
My breath catches in my throat at his deep, husky growl.
He leans in, close enough for me to get a deep lungful of his oaky scent, and goosebumps race up my arm from feeling his breath against my neck.
“I’ll see you soon,” he whispers.
Yeah, tomorrow… runs through my mind.
But the tightening knot just below my belly says the implications behind his words have nothing to do with our move. It reaffirms that his lingering eyes aren’t about to find something or someone new to focus on.
I smile, sliding into the leather seat, but do my best to hide it from Colter.
I don’t want him thinking he’s won…
Even though, in some way, he already has.