Chapter 21 Eliza #2
For god’s sake, I didn’t even really know yet if he had anything to do with the murder of his mother.
Just because he hadn’t pushed her off the cliff years ago didn’t mean he had nothing to do with the fact that she was now only here as a ghost. What if he had?
Would it make a difference? I could be serving myself up on a platter to another narcissist right now.
What the fuck was I doing? My heart pounded so fast, there was no way he couldn’t hear it.
Panic was about to set in; I could feel my face going numb.
Jasper stirred, adjusting positions, and my heart flew into my throat.
Why did I have to go and ruin everything? I had initiated the intimacy last night—I had touched him first. Now, the fun banter and sparks would be replaced with awkwardness and uncomfortable tension.
My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a cry. What if my coworkers found out? What would my boss say if he found out I had sex with Jasper?
My mother’s voice rang in my head: He only hired you because he wants to fuck you.
Did they all think that?
It made sense. I wasn’t qualified enough for that to have swayed him, and the men from the horticultural society had already been denied almost yearly.
What was I doing? I couldn’t be in a relationship. Not that I had any notion that he even wanted something more than a fuck buddy. All I knew was that I had let him get too close.
I was spiraling.
The room felt like it was a thousand degrees.
Would he want to keep things between us going while I was here?
Or would he start to lean into it, knowing that I felt it stronger than he did?
Would he use that to manipulate me? It would work.
He had touched me in the exact forceful way I have always craved.
He felt my fear and excitement and had leaned into it.
For weeks, he’d studied me—quietly, obsessively, the way a composer studies a melody.
When he touched me, it was deliberate. Precise.
He played me like a cello: low, haunting, reverent in his cruelty.
Every stroke summoned my soul and its vulnerability.
Jasper didn’t let anyone inside his walls; he’d told me as much, and yet here I was, being so stupid to believe that me—stupid, quiet, awkward, mousy me—just happened to be so appealing that I was the one to get through and have something special with him.
I was so stupid. Why would he want me for anything other than a quick fuck?
He was a charming, fun, hot, millionaire playboy.
I had practically hurled myself at him; what else was he going to do?
It didn’t mean he had feelings for me, and even if he did, I couldn’t risk having anyone get that close to me.
What if he was really controlling? He definitely controlled a lot of things in his life.
Why would I do that to myself? I would get trapped.
Fuck, if I thought I was financially imprisoned with my mom, I couldn’t imagine what sort of titanium cage Jasper and his millions could build.
I could never get away and escape. I was still trying to figure out how to get out of my broke mother’s grasp.
I was going to have a panic attack. Was I already?
I grabbed a wad of clothes as quickly as my hands would allow and silently left the room.
I would be the only one in control of me from this day forward.
I just had to figure out what I was going to do to make sure my mother knew that too.
}
Hours later, after I had changed in a bathroom downstairs and was using my panicked energy to break up the soil of the long flower bed along the back end of the conservatory, I heard the doors open.
“Hey,” Jasper said as he walked in. His eyes locked on me with force. I could feel him trying to decipher what was going on in my head after last night with that gaze. “You weren’t there when I woke up. Everything okay?”
“Huh? Oh. Yep, everything’s fine.” I should’ve left it at that, but when our eyes locked and he looked so masculine and cozy, I suddenly wanted to run over to him and wrap every part of me around him in a hug.
No! My walls came up, and the firing squad took aim.
“You told me I could keep working in here, so I am.” I let out a forced, light chuckle.
“My life doesn’t stop just because we fucked, Jasper.
” Fuck, this was so much worse than I had been imagining how it would go.
His body seemed to tense with my words. “Eliza, what’s going—”
I threw my cultivator down and stood up, turning to face him. “Nothing’s going on; we got carried away last night, and things got out of hand. That’s all that it was.” I returned to digging.
He stepped over the stone border and into the dirt.
I wanted to cry. He was going to make this impossible. I wasn’t cut out to be mean or to lie, especially not to him. I simply wasn’t, no matter how much my self-preservation required it. I could hide, but being so visible was torture.
He grabbed the sides of my arms, forcing me to stop and look up at him.
“That’s not all it was,” he said softly. “Not to me.”
Shit.
His eyes probed me, and I knew I didn’t have a chance of being dishonest with him; it was impossible. Whether it was a good thing or not, we still had a connection that should have baffled science.
I pushed his arms off me. If I felt him touch me for one more second, I would lose all of my resolve and turn into a crying heap in his arms. I had already embarrassed myself enough.
My voice was weaker now. “We shouldn’t have done that.
I’m leaving in a few weeks. I—I—” I turned to face him, unable to stop myself.
“Last night was amazing for so many reasons. You really did help me face my fears, and that showed me that I can do things that scare me, like setting boundaries for myself, not letting people walk all over me.”
He grabbed my hand firmly before I tried to turn away from him again. “Those all sound like good things, but what else is going on? Why are you so upset?”
“We—I shouldn’t have been so careless. You’re technically my employer; what if this gets around? My reputation will be ruined,” I grumbled.
His hand dropped, and a coldness took over the brown that had temporarily warmed in his eyes. “Because you are in a relationship with me?” His jaw flexed. “Wouldn’t want an association with me to ruin your sweet reputation,” he said in a low voice before calmly turning to leave.
“We aren’t in a relationship. It was a one-time thing,” I snapped.
“It’s not a one-time thing if I say it’s not, Eliza. I don’t know what’s happening with you right now. Things were good between us last night—very good. Why are you doing this?” I could feel the vulnerability in his voice turning to venom, and it killed me.
He had finally let me in, and now I was the one who couldn’t do it. He had warned me. All this time, he had talked about not wanting to hurt me, and only just now, when I realized how strong I felt, did it truly sink in.
He could hurt me, but worse, I would hurt him. I couldn’t be in a relationship. I just couldn’t do it, not with him or anyone. This was exactly why I didn’t have real friends.
I was a mess. My head was everywhere, with little to none of it making sense. The only thing I knew was that I didn’t want to get hurt, and I really, really didn’t want to hurt Jasper.
That’s the thing about having emotional trauma: It doesn’t give you a warning or a signal that it’s going to affect you in a way that will spin your world upside down; it just hits you when you want it to the least.
I turned my back to him and faced the flower bed, closing my eyes as I struggled to lie.
“I’m only here for a few more weeks, and we are just friends.
It was a friends-with-benefits, fuck-buddies situation.
That’s all that happened…” I was desperately trying to convince him that I felt nothing and that everything that had happened was nonsense, but I was failing miserably.
When I was met with silence, I couldn’t help it: I turned to look at his face, needing to see the expression on it, to see if he was buying it.
“You were right to have gone to New York.” I huffed out an exasperated laugh.
“It’s just not a good idea. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to get hurt. ”
He took a few steps toward me, barely veiled concern pulling his dark brows together. “I’ll only hurt you in ways that bring you pleasure, Eliza. You’re safe with me. I wouldn’t have let anything happen between us if I felt otherwise.”
Unable to stop, I began to pace around the conservatory.
Another cynical laugh rose up out of me, no doubt making me look like some sort of a cartoon villain.
“You don’t know that! You can’t possibly guarantee that you won’t hurt me; I’m easy to hurt.
No matter how much I like you, I can’t let myself do this.
Jasper, for Christ’s sake, I was locked in a room for six days once because I refused to eat cauliflower.
That’s coming from the woman who birthed me—who is supposed to be the one person in the entire world who would keep me safe.
You and I can’t be anything more than friends.
” I had to stop, feeling my lip tremble.
“If my own mother could hurt me so easily, why wouldn’t you?
I’m sorry; I know I’m being a little chaotic, but I’m freaking out.
I don’t think I’m capable of anything more than what we are right now.
” I stopped back in front of him and tried to catch my breath.
Jasper made a move to grab me, and for one quick second, my arms wrapped around him before pulling back.
I craved his closeness—it brought me comfort, even if it wasn’t smart.
My stupid brain deceived me, told me he was big and strong and powerful and could protect me, but he couldn’t if he was who I needed protection from.
“Stop, we can’t do this.”
“Your mother deserves to have a rope wrapped around her throat, Eliza,” he growled out.
My body stilled in horror.
Hester always grabbed her throat. Always. Was that what he had done to his mother?
No. There was no way.
Sensing my sudden tension, he let me go. “I wouldn’t hurt you. I care about you.”
I shook my head. “Staying friends is better. Right now, the last thing either one of us needs is more stress.”
He let out a long, frustrated sigh and turned around, looking like he wanted to punch something. For a few moments, the only sound in the conservatory was the rustling of plants and the soft wind scratching on the windows.
“Fine,” he said in an oddly light tone. He stepped back onto the path and turned to me with a challenging expression I had grown to know far too well.
Something was off. I was completely baffled at how he could be taking this news so well—I certainly wasn’t. I stared at him in shock. Had he genuinely gotten over me that quickly? It had been three minutes.
“Fine.” I repeated after him, still not understanding how he could be so nonchalant suddenly.
His handsome face didn’t show a thread of sadness and instead was cloaked in dark mischief. “Fine. I’ll see you tonight.”
“What?” I asked, confused and flabbergasted.
“Dinner tonight. Friends have dinner together—or so I hear.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as if he couldn’t keep it down.
“Yes, friends can have dinner, but were you not listening to anything I just said?” I mumbled, feeling completely frustrated.
“Oh, absolutely. Every word. Especially the parts where you said we were friends with benefits.” His brown eyes glittered wildly.
Dangerously. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the type of man that gets pushed around and manipulated.
I get what I want, Eliza, and I want you.
If friends with benefits is all you can offer me right now, then I’m going to take it.
” He winked. “Or should I say you’ll be taking it. ”
My mouth fell open. “That’s not—” I began, seeing exactly what he was doing.
“I’ll see you tonight for dinner.” He turned and walked to the door before turning back around. “Oh…and, friend? Wear something lacy I can tear off you. Plan on it being unwearable after tonight.”
By the time I picked my mouth up off the floor, he was gone.
He was serious. He really wasn’t going to dismiss the idea of us that easily.
I hated to admit it, but deep, deep down, I was glad he wasn’t ready to give up just because I was panicking.
For some reason, it reassured the sick, fucked-up part of my mind that worried I was just a quick fuck to him.
It made me feel wanted and special—things I never felt.
My steps stuttered as I spun back to the flower bed, trying to reconnect the wires that had blown in my brain and remember what I was supposed to do now.
A breath pushed from my chest as I tried to stifle a laugh. Even amid my frantic meltdown, he still managed to somehow make everything feel better. Everything was better when he was around, and that’s what was so scary.
I grinned. If he thought for a second that I was going to be the one to back down from the friends-with-benefits ruse, he had another thing coming.
He knew just as well as I did that he and I couldn’t be friends with benefits.
We were just prolonging the inevitable. He was doing this so I would admit that I felt more for him than…
friendly. So I’d say it out loud instead—we both knew I felt more for him; he wasn’t stupid.
Still, more than that, I was set on my decision to keep my independence, and I couldn’t do that if I gave it to him.
I knew it was a bad idea, a horrible one, and I would go to dinner tonight just to tell him that wasn’t what I had meant and that there really was nothing between us but friendship—a non-fucking friendship.
My pleasantly sore body pulsed as a reminder of last night. I supposed independent women could have friends with benefits and not give themselves fully away, right? Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea.