Chapter 14 Aston
Madelina knows how to push my buttons without even trying.
Her reckless comment, you’re getting laid by a doctor , put me in a pissed-off mood for the rest of our meeting. Not only that, but I was also forced to listen to Madelina talk about dresses. Like I fucking care if she wears lace or not.
I insisted on joining Everleigh for this tedious task of auditioning music acts to prove a point—I won’t get bored. But now I’m standing here listening to middle-aged women play a Beyoncé song on their violin and cello.
Nobody willingly wants to listen to pathetic love songs.
I can’t think of anything worse.
Besides planning this wedding for my sister.
On the car ride over, Everleigh was quiet. It didn’t help that I also had a lot on my mind. After leaving the café, I received a call from an investor who pulled out because of the pending lawsuit. My father, of course, ignored my calls and insisted on hitting the golf course again.
Then there was last night…
The old man came home on a bender, and my mother was his target. She wasn’t there yet, but that didn’t stop him from calling Madelina. He so brutally informed her, “Your mother needs to get her ass to Cinnamon Springs because her absence is making me look like a fool.”
I knew my sister was upset, and all I could do was hide his bottles of liquor to stop him from drinking more. Eventually, he passed out in bed.
Everleigh sits on the leather armchair next to me, listening to Eunice, the woman who played the violin, explain the notes of the song.
It’s hard not to succumb to boredom, especially when the conversation shifts to Beyoncé being the greatest artist of all time.
It doesn’t stop there when other notable female artists are brought up, and then it segues to women’s rights.
I’m starting to think these two women are more than a musical duo.
Beside me, Everleigh leans over to whisper, “I know you’re bored. I can see it all over your face.”
“I’m not bored,” I correct her, straightening my posture. “I’m unable to comprehend why music matters so much. My sister is walking down the aisle. Shouldn’t the wedding march suffice?”
“A wedding is about emotions,” Carol the cello player reveals. “It’s about finding the deepest connection with one person and vowing to spend your life with them. Music brings out these emotions.”
Everleigh nods, but she’s trying to keep a straight face. I observe her side profile, the way her lips deliciously press together while curving upward. She appears confident and poised, making me want to play and have fun with her.
Just admit it… you want to see her cheeks turn pink with anger.
I clear my throat. “You’ll have to excuse Miss Woods. She’s not a believer in romance.”
Everleigh snaps her head in my direction as her mouth opens wide in shock. “I’m not the player who brings women to my fancy penthouse and doesn’t let them sleep over. What’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had, huh?”
I’m amused by her willingness to bite back so quickly, but truth be told, I’ve never had a relationship. I fuck—end of story.
“So touchy…” The corner of my mouth rises teasingly. “Does your doctor friend tell you how he’s looking for the one to settle down with?”
The color of her cheeks slowly turns the perfect shade, satisfying my sick and twisted need to watch her argue with me over an unimportant matter.
Everleigh opens her mouth to give it back to me, but Carol interjects, “I have an exercise for the two of you. Since the bride and groom usually partake in our auditions, I would like you to stand up as we play the song for the first official wedding dance.”
“I’m sorry, Carol. What?” Everleigh shakes her head, panicked. “I will not dance with him.”
“Hm… sounds like you’re scared of romance,” I mutter under my breath.
“Fine!” Everleigh stands, positioning herself in front of me. “I’ll dance with you. After all, this is for your sister, isn’t it?”
Carol and Eunice start playing their instruments as Everleigh says, “Just to reiterate, we are waltzing. That’s it.”
“If you say so.”
I watch her take a deep breath, then extend her arm to place her hand on my shoulder.
As the music plays, I rest my hand on her hip and then secure her other hand in mine.
We move to the tune of the Ed Sheeran song “Photograph.” Madelina requested they test this song out, along with two other songs.
With Everleigh’s body so close to mine, I fall silent at this unknown feeling of emotion overwhelming me. What the fuck is this?
I pull myself out of the thought to ask her with a satisfied grin, “This isn’t so bad, now is it?”
“I guess not,” she drags out, pretending to be annoyed. “Who would have thought the playboy could dance?”
“Well, if my penis mobile doesn’t impress the ladies, I can rely on my dancing skills.”
A small laugh leaves her supple lips. “You forgot about your charming personality.”
“Right! That’s what apparently brings all the women to my penthouse.”
“C’mon, there’s truth to what I said, so don’t lie,” she gloats, relaxing in my hold.
I pull away, but only slightly, to look her in the eye. “I never denied it, and I’m the first to admit relationships aren’t something I think about. Work has been my life. It’s who I am. It defines me. There’s no time for this romantic… whatever you want to call it.”
She presses her lips together with satisfaction, only to respond with, “The billionaire knows what he wants.”
I bring her body back into alignment with mine, avoiding her critical stare. “I sense judgment in your tone.”
“It’s your life, Aston. Who am I to tell you how to live? If it makes you happy, then kudos to you.”
It doesn’t make me happy.
It doesn’t bring me joy.
It satisfies something within me I’m unable to explain. It’s a life I am forced into, so there’s no choice but to find satisfaction in making billions of dollars. It’s not exactly like I can quit and play lacrosse. The dream of following a passion has long died.
“And are you happy?” I question her.
Everleigh turns away to stare blankly at Carol and Eunice. Then, she sighs “What is happiness, anyway?”
The song comes to an end before Carol places down her cello. “I think it’s the perfect song choice. The two of you looked like a bride and groom on their wedding day.”
Everleigh lets go of me in a rush, as if reality has slapped her firmly in the face. “Oh, we had to play the part, right?”
I watch her avoid my gaze and see how her body language tells me something has gotten to her. Unlike moments ago when she was relaxed in my hold, her expression is pensive as she folds her arms, keeping her distance.
Carol and Eunice wait quietly for the green light, but Everleigh doesn’t say a word.
“My sister will love it. Can you email me the details, and we’ll get the invoice paid?” I reach out and grab Everleigh’s hand. “Let’s go.”
Outside in the driveway, Everleigh struggles to keep up. “Why are you rushing us?”
“You looked uncomfortable,” I tell her, honestly.
“I was uncomfortable. They thought we were in love or something.”
I pause beside the car. “And you’re scared of love, romance?”
“Why are you so hung up on that?” She tilts her head with furrowed brows. “You said you’re not looking for a relationship.”
“I’ve spent my life around women who are so infatuated with relationships and meeting the right person. I’m finding it hard to grasp you’re not like everyone else. Not to mention your best friend is getting married. Doesn’t that evoke some sort of biological ticking clock?”
“I’m not like everyone else,” Everleigh responds sharply. “I would like to settle down one day, but I’m not looking for it. I want to have fun. What’s wrong with that? It doesn’t make me coldhearted or against romance.”
A smirk reaches my lips. “Fun is open for interpretation when you’re an adult.”
Everleigh crosses her arms, keeping her gaze focused on me. “Okay, so I’ll admit it. Sex is fun if it’s with the right person. It’s not my fault the last two guys were duds.”
The thought of other men touching her brings on a state of unrest. I glance away to calm my agitation, then say, “But you’re the common denominator.”
She slaps my arm, catching my attention. “I am not the dud! I want a man who makes me feel like vanilla isn’t the only flavor out there.”
I raise my brows, pausing to examine her face. So, the beautiful woman standing before me doesn’t like vanilla. How very interesting.
I open my mouth to question her, but she quickly interrupts. “We should head back. I have to run a few errands, then close up at three. Billie has an appointment with her mom, so it’s just me.”
Everleigh doesn’t allow me to say anything, impatiently waiting for me to unlock the car. When the car beeps, she opens the door and takes a seat.
She stares quietly out the window on our drive back to town. Not long into our ride, her phone pings with a text message. Everleigh quickly reads it, but almost as if she’s been caught doing something she isn’t supposed to, she rushes to put her phone back in her coat pocket.
I suspect it’s her friend.
“Does the doctor enjoy vanilla?” I question with malice, tightening my grip on the steering wheel.
“I, uh… wouldn’t know,” she simply states.
It’s all I need to hear.
And with a satisfied smirk, I keep quiet for the rest of the drive.
When we reach the front of the café, I put the car in neutral but keep the engine running. Despite my reluctance to come back to Cinnamon Springs, there is something nostalgic about being in a place you grew up in. Sure, it’s nothing like Manhattan—the exact opposite, to be frank.
But sometimes change isn’t a bad thing.
“So, the music is checked off,” Everleigh says quietly, unable to look at me. “I’ve got the photographer covered at the end of this week. Actually, could you organize the cars for Maddy? I’m not into cars, but clearly you are.”
I nod silently.
“And that’s it.” She sighs, still avoiding my gaze. “See you around.”
She opens the door to get out of the car, leaving me no chance to say anything. Upon stepping out, her phone slides out of her coat pocket and onto my leather seat, and before I even have a chance to let her know, she slams the door shut.
I pick up her phone and read the message on the home screen.
Marco
I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight.
A burning sensation rips through my chest, causing me to slam my foot on the gas and take off without returning her phone.
I almost run a red light, but then am forced to stop as a mother duck and her ducklings waddle across Main Street without a fucking care in the world.
My hands grip the steering wheel until my knuckles are stark white, suddenly not caring for this small-town bullshit.
As soon as they’re safely across, I accelerate the fuck out of there. My anger spikes as I drive around the town in a circle to end up where I started—in front of Everleigh’s donut shop. The lights are turned off, and a sign on the door reads Closed. I turn off the engine and wait.
But the jealousy consuming me doesn’t resolve.
The longer I sit here, the more consumed I become.
I need to calm the fuck down.
Minutes pass as I stare out the window and watch some families play in the park near the town gazebo. A little boy is kicking a ball around, laughing as his father softly tackles him. I can’t recall a time my own father ever played with me. It was always business in our household.
I pull my gaze away from the park and back to the front of the café. It’s empty, so I assume Everleigh is in the back. Finally, I exit the car.
The door to the café is not locked, surprisingly, so I turn the knob and enter at the same time as it chimes.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” Everleigh yells from the back.
I take steps toward the counter until Everleigh appears.
The moment she lays eyes on me, her lips press together in a slight grimace. “What are you doing here? I have to close up, and then I have an errand tonight,” she informs me.
“Another date?” I grit out.
She lets out an annoyed huff and twists away from me to return to the kitchen. I follow her until she’s cornered and has nowhere to run. The kitchen is small but ridiculously organized. Everywhere I turn, something is labeled so there’s no confusing what belongs where.
“You didn’t answer me,” she repeats, her tone unsure. “What are you doing here?”
I reach into my pocket and pull out her phone. “It seems the doctor is looking forward to getting you alone tonight.”
She snatches the phone from my hands, stepping back, her eyes smoldering with resentment.
I move closer, trapping her against the stainless-steel countertop. My calm demeanor is short-lived as once again, Everleigh’s presence evokes this uncontrollable jealousy within me.
I won’t allow him to touch her.
My breaths come coarser and faster until I can’t take it anymore. Fueled by the adrenaline running through my veins, I bring my hands to her thighs and lift Everleigh, so she’s sitting on the counter.
Her honey-brown eyes take me in as her chest rises and falls, with soft, shallow breaths escaping her gorgeous, pink, kissable lips. I’m drawn to the way they part, and I remember how they tasted like fucking heaven the night I gave in all those years ago.
That night, I ignored how she made me feel because I was stupid and immature.
But now we’re adults.
And I bet she will taste just as fucking sweet.
Beside me, a tub of vanilla icing sits opened. Without even thinking, I dip my fingers into the icing, then bring it to my mouth, running my tongue along my fingers before sucking it off.
She watches me take it in, eyes wide, unaware a small moan has left her lips. I’m rock fucking hard beneath my pants, desperate to taste her. This teasing is doing nothing to help the situation and is very unlike me.
I don’t tease. Women beg me to take them without any effort on my behalf.
But Everleigh is not like other women.
She’s the poisonous apple dangling from the forbidden tree. With just one taste, I’m crossing into uncharted territory. I have to— I must —be strong enough to kiss her and walk away like it’s nothing more than a game.
“Vanilla isn’t always so bad, now is it, Miss Woods?”