Chapter 21
EVE
To my surprise—and slight disappointment—Haze didn’t take advantage of me being in his bed.
He just tucked me in beside him and flicked out the lights, ordering me to sleep in that deep, sexy accent of his.
Weirdly, I did as I was told. No nightmares, no restlessness, just deep, restful sleep.
When I woke late the next morning I was alone, and I found myself lying there wondering how long Haze had lasted before becoming touched-out.
I got up, then frowned at the messy bed for a moment before neatly remaking it. Haze struck me as the kind of guy who made his bed, and I wanted to respect his space so that maybe he’d invite me back sometime.
Downstairs, I found the house oddly quiet.
Brodie had left a note on the fridge saying that he’d had to leave for re-shoots on a recent film and would be gone for three days, which made me kind of sad.
I enjoyed his company and hadn’t seen anywhere near enough of him lately.
Then again, with the new developments around Andrew and Connor, maybe it was better that I had more time to work things out?
Speaking of Andrew, the sharply dressed Adonis had made me breakfast and was in the process of washing dishes with huge yellow rubber gloves on his hands when I sat down.
“How are you feeling this morning, Evie?” he asked with a quick sideways glance in my direction.
“Good,” I replied in reflex, settling into my usual island seat to eat the perfect stack of pancakes he’d made. “No nightmares that I can recall.”
There was a short pause before he replied, “How was Haze?”
I hummed a little laugh. “He didn’t freak out or hurt me if that’s what you’re thinking. He was exactly as I’d hoped he would be. Comforting.”
“That’s not a word I think I’ve ever associated with Haze before,” Andrew admitted with a short laugh as he started stacking the clean, soapy dishes into the dishwasher. “So you didn’t accidentally touch him, or did he sleep on the floor?”
I shook my head. “No, we spooned. It was very cute. You jealous, Drew?”
He startled, turning to stare at me in bewilderment. “You spooned? Haze? You and Haze spooned? Haze Michaels? Like…full body contact?”
I shrugged. “I was the little spoon. Don’t make it weird. But yes, that’s usually what spooning entails, is it not?”
He frowned thoughtfully. “Huh. Interesting. And yes, Evie, I am jealous.”
“Of me? Because you desperately want to be Haze’s little spoon, but he hasn't cracked his touch aversion long enough to get that close? I get it, he’s a fantastic big spoon, I’d have been—”
Andrew put a stop to my teasing by stripping off his rubber gloves and grabbing a handful of my hair to kiss me. It was clearly an impulsive move that he instantly second-guessed, but when he tried to pull away I reeled him back in with his shirt in my fist.
“Whoa, shit sorry!” Lacey exclaimed, interrupting us before things could go any further, making Andrew jerk away fast enough that one of his shirt buttons popped open thanks to my grip on the fabric.
“Uh, wow this was unexpected…I came to see how you were doing this morning, Eve, but I guess that answers that. Clearly you’re concussed. ”
“Funny, Lace,” Andrew drawled with a sarcastic smile, attempting to smooth the creases in his shirt with his hand before frowning. “I need to go change.”
He darted out of the kitchen before I could say anything more, but Lacey smirked after him and rolled her eyes. “Wanna bet he’s changing more than just his shirt?” The wink she gave me said everything.
“Don’t be mean,” I scolded with a smile. “Only I’m allowed to tease Andrew for being particular.”
“Uh huh, I get it. Blowjob benefits?” Lacey snagged one of my pancakes and took a huge bite. “Yum. Definite blowjob benefits. Are you going to class today?”
I nodded. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
“Um, I dunno…gun violence, kidnapping, nearly executed, fake pregnancy, and probably then reamed out by Con after the fact?” She eyed me skeptically. “I sort of thought you might be taking it easy today.”
I blinked a couple of times, processing what she was saying. Under normal circumstances, yeah. I could definitely see why she might think I’d need a day or two, or maybe a little grippy sock vacation until I could work through my trauma, but, weirdly, I was fine.
“I think maybe I’m becoming desensitized,” I admitted with a wince. “Exposure therapy is a thing, right?”
Lacey didn’t look convinced. “Exposure to what, exactly? Guns or Connor? Or both?”
I shrugged. “Both?” But at the same time I definitely didn’t want to tell her how Con and I had ended up fucking in some random bedroom at his dad’s gang headquarters, so I slid off my stool and took my half-eaten plate over to the sink.
“We should get going if we wanna get coffee on the way. You’ve got Professor Zanderlind this morning right? ”
Lacey sighed heavily. “Yep, so coffee is a must.”
“Andrew!” I called up the stairs, “Are you coming to class with us?”
“I’ll meet you there!” he yelled back, probably hand stitching his button to ensure it couldn’t pop undone again.
Lacey waited patiently while I cleaned off my plate and rinsed them, then we headed out of the house without seeing any of my other boyfr—uh, housemates.
My first class today was with Ethan anyway, but it seemed weird that he hadn’t waited for me. Maybe he had some early work to be done and assumed I’d come with Andrew or Brodie.
Except…when I finally arrived at his class a couple minutes before it started, he barely even glanced my way. Andrew sat with me like always, creeping his hand onto my knee under the table where no one could see, but I missed Brodie. And something was off about Ethan.
When the class finished, I told Andrew to go on ahead so I could linger after everyone else had filed out.
Typically, this was when Ethan would toss out some dirty talk about wanting to bend me over his desk, but today he seemed…anxious. Or annoyed?
“Apologies, Miss Lewis, I can’t stay,” he brushed me off as he gathered up his notes. “If you want to discuss the assignment, you can make an appointment with my TA during office hours.”
What the fuck? Did Ethan even have a TA?
At a loss for words, and honestly a bit hurt by the brittle, non-personal way he’d spoken to me, I just nodded and left the class with my head low. Ethan was angry at me for something…and there was only one thing that made sense for such a reaction.
Connor.
I couldn’t even say I was shocked. I’d known this would be an issue from the first moment I admitted to myself that I had feelings for Connor. They might be on good-ish terms right now, but it wasn’t so long ago that they were barely tolerating the sight of one another.
What had even happened between them to cause such a rift? And was I now making it ten times worse for coming between them? Metaphorically not literally.
Though I’d be really happy if I were literally coming between both Sullivan brothers.
I needed to talk to Ethan about it. But he didn’t show up in the library at our usual time, nor was he at home for dinner that evening. Actually, none of the guys were home except for Haze, so I found myself snuggled up in his lap to watch true crime shows after dinner and fell asleep there.
Frustratingly, the next day went even worse.
Connor and Andrew were both around at breakfast, but this time Connor was acting strange, and Andrew seemed reluctant to touch me while Con was in the room, leading me to think that it wasn’t only Ethan who had an issue with me and Connor.
Clearly their easy demeanor the night of the whole incident had been a bit of shock and worry, but giving them time to think about it had changed the whole dynamic.
That information fermented inside my brain for the whole damn day until I was a wreck of anxiety and ready to tear my own hair out with guilt and regret and frustration.
Not that I regretted things with Con…only that I hadn’t discussed my feelings for him with any of the other guys first, and now they all clearly seemed angry about it.
“Family meeting!” I announced when I arrived home, finding Connor and Haze on the sofa playing video games. “Where are the other two, please?”
“Ethan is in his room,” Haze replied, giving me a curious glance while still sniping several players on screen, “Andrew is doing his ironing in the laundry room.”
“Got it. Don’t go anywhere, you two. I’ll be right back.” I left them on the sofa and went first down to the laundry room in our basement, where Andrew was humming along to music while ironing. It was strangely adorable, now that I didn’t hate everything he did.
“Are you ironing your pajama pants?” I asked as I drew closer, recognizing the striped, blue fabric as his favorite PJs. “Don’t they just get crinkled again when you’re sleeping?”
He raised one brow at me, then finished the leg he’d been pressing before placing the hot iron on its cradle. “What’s up, beautiful?”
“I’m calling a family meeting,” I informed him before I could become too distracted. “In the living room, now please.”
Andrew ran his hand over the back of his neck, causing his biceps to flex since he was only wearing a sleeveless undershirt. It was a good look on him. “Okay, I’ll be there in a second. I just have one more shirt to finish.”
I nodded my approval, then darted back upstairs to go in search of Ethan. I found the professor sitting at his desk in his room, scowling at something on his laptop, and for once that scowl didn’t shift when he saw me in his doorway.
“Um, can you join us in the living room, please?” I asked hesitantly, my guts a mess of anxious fear at his dark mood. Was he going to end things between us because of this? Surely not. He said he loved me… “We’re having a family meeting.”
Ethan’s brows lifted, and I noticed how tired he looked. The shadows under his eyes seemed so much darker than they had a week ago. It made my stomach churn to think I was causing him so much stress.
“Family?” he repeated, sounding perplexed.
I wet my lips, nodding firmly. “That’s what we are, isn’t it? The six of us here in Bluebell House? We’re family. Aren’t we?” I intended it to come out strong, like I was challenging him to deny it. But instead it came out as a weak sort of plea for confirmation and reassurance and he heard it.
His expression softened instantly, and he rose from his desk chair to wrap me in a hug. “Yeah, Eve. We’re family. For better or worse, I guess.” He kissed my hair, then released me all too quickly, giving me a little push to head back to the living room.
Somehow, though, his affirmation hadn’t reassured my sick feeling that he was going to end things between us on a romantic level. Had I really fucked up that badly?
I needed Brodie. He’d know what to do.