Chapter 20 Eva
Eva
“No thinking, just respond,” I snapped, the minute Xavier answered with a voice indicating he was not as awake as I was. “Did he wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Is he a dick of massive proportions or am I a woeful kisser who should have known better than to hope for round two?”
“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, rewind…” Xavi replied, his sleep-rough voice already sharpening with awareness.
“Fuck! Why do I do this?” I whispered, conscious Cooper could walk out at any second.
“Firstly, your profanities are profaniting lately and I’m texting Judy Babes as we speak to let her know how much money you owe. Secondly, are your questions rhetorical, or…”
“Do not message her!” There wasn’t much heat to my reply, all my energy wasted on trying to decipher what happened within the last twelve hours. What had changed after the heat and lust of our kiss, plus the reason behind the split eyebrow and a bruise Cooper wore across his jaw.
Have your fun and do her a favour or whatever this little project is…
His father’s remark that I was an inconvenience elicited a sickening swirl in my stomach.
What I thought was a kiss worthy of memorialisation last night, a moment I’d dreamed about for years, didn’t appear to have the same effect on him judging by the distrustful scowl of his brows when he’d opened his door this morning.
“Too late.” Xavi silenced, and I raked a hand through my hair in frustration. If Mum knew I was swearing, she was going to ring demanding I tell her what was bothering me, or worse, she would send Sebastian, and my brother was the very last person I wanted to discuss this with.
“Tell her you were lying, and I’ll let you come over for a visit soon.” It was the only thing I knew would get an immediate acquiescence given how desperate he was to meet my dickhead roommate.
“Done.” The smug satisfaction made me smirk.
“I hate you,” I whispered, hearing the distinct sound of a door closing. “I’ve got to go, I’ll message you.”
“What was the point in even calling me if you weren’t going to tell me everything? I need more info so call me back, Evalicious.” The grin in his voice was frustrating.
Pushing my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, I reached for the two keep cups, one holding my mint tea and the other a coffee for Cooper.
There was no time for breakfast and with how late we already were, it was going to be a long day.
One I’d been looking forward to only minutes ago but now was making me feel queasy.
When he wasn’t here when I came home from dinner, I was mildly disappointed, but only because I’d spent the drive home wanting to tell him how ridiculous the girls had been.
Share all their questions, the way they nearly pulled my arm from its socket and their reactions to my ring.
I’d stirred when the familiar rumble of his bike pulled in the drive and a quick check of my phone told me it was well after two am.
Thoughts of where he’d been or with who, unearthing a cold uncertainty.
I had no right to ask, to know the comings and goings of his life, but some part of me hoped that kiss changed things.
Perhaps it was the beginning of something more.
Instead, I’d awoken to my alarm still feeling hopeful and when I’d built the courage to knock on his door this morning, his steely countenance was proof I’d gotten ahead of myself.
Possibly by a few miles if his bruised face and abrasive greeting was anything to go by.
And when he walked right by me like I wasn’t even there, the door closing with a soft click, I was left holding a drink he didn’t want and a fresh reminder that I was an absolute idiot.
An idiot who needed to swallow my childish crush and realise that maybe he really was just an arse-hat. Since arriving, I hadn't once felt uncomfortable being here. I’d been welcomed in a way which made knowing I was only here for a short time difficult to stomach. Until today.
Now, I wished I could melt into the wall and disappear.
I wished I could rewind the clock an hour and head into work earlier, none the wiser that I’d not only misread last night but avoided Coop’s sultry demeanour.
It’s not like I planned to host a breakfast conversation around whether kissing my fiancé was going to lead to more, but I’d woken with a level of excitement that hadn't been there the day before.
And it had been extinguished quicker than it lasted.
The motorbike roared awake, a sound I usually welcomed because it came with an excuse to cling to his back and melt into him.
But not today.
Especially not in this damn skirt I’d selected thinking with the cold chill we would take the car.
Leaving both cups on the bench with a loud clink, I grabbed my leather jacket and slammed the door behind me.
He was facing away from the house as I strode towards the bike, the ground crunching underneath my boots, and part of me wanted to demand he face me.
Demand he explain in what world he thought this behaviour was okay - but my pride was stronger than my anger.
I shoved the awaiting helmet down hard, clicking the visor in place with a slice.
Leg swinging over the seat, I settled behind him, the fabric of my skirt riding so high I might as well have not been wearing anything at all.
The frigid morning air bit at my bare thighs, goosebumps rising instantly but I ignored the cold. The sting of being dismissed lit a fire in me hotter than the chill. I gripped the bar behind me instead of wrapping my arms around him, holding myself in place as he took off slowly.
Only just before we pulled out onto the road, he stopped, turning back with his visor raised, his laser focus deadly. I lifted my own visor with more force than necessary, mad as hell.
“What?” I caught the exact moment his eyes landed on the bare skin of my legs, how the anger in his expression flickered, twisting into something lascivious.
“You need to hold on.” He spoke with authority, his gaze fixed on the apex of my thighs, where the hem of my skirt likely betrayed the red briefs underneath.
The commanding edge in his voice did unspeakable things to me, my body all but vibrating in response but there was no way I was letting this emotional whiplash slide. Whatever had crawled under his skin had nothing to do with me and I sure as hell didn’t deserve his disrespect.
So, I pushed back.
“I am holding on.”
Boldly, I let my knees drift wider, casually leaning into the bar behind me like being close to him was the last thing I wanted.
And if I hadn’t been watching his face so closely, I might’ve missed it - the slight parting of his lips, the flicker in his eyes, the way his spine went rigid, and his throat worked around a swallow.
When his gaze finally lifted to mine, I met it head on, daring him to see just how unaffected I was.
Even if the goosebumps tracing my skin had nothing to do with the cold anymore and everything to do with him.
“Hold on to me!” He demanded, before turning back and reefing me forward by my thighs.
My arms flew around him instinctively, my already sensitive groin getting the slightest edge of friction from where it met the back of his jeans.
The moan from my throat was involuntary, my body suddenly alive, my thighs scorching where he still held me firmly in each hand.
He was stiff, no doubt having heard my mortifying response to the meeting of our bodies and now probably wishing he’d told me to make my own way to work.
I gripped the leather of his jacket in both hands, eager to adjust myself.
Desperate to push him away but just as desperate to scream all the questions swirling in my mind about his cuts and bruises, his sudden animosity and that fucking kiss.
Though, all rational thought disintegrated the moment his fingers dug into my thighs with a grip so firm I was certain he’d leave bruises sending electric sparks ricocheting from my centre outward.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
With the idling vibration of the bike underneath, the proximity of leather and the heat of his hands, I was losing the battle not to wrap my legs around his torso.
I was close to unashamedly grinding myself against him until I came - which given how turned on I already was from the brief touch of his body on mine, wouldn’t be long.
Releasing my hold on his jacket, I tried to give myself space only his grip on my thighs tightened.
“Cooper,” I gritted, doing my best to keep my voice free from the desperation I was feeling.
“I’m fine holding onto the bar.” I needed to hold onto it in case I embarrassed myself any further the second he began to ride.
As it was, my body was raring to go, my frustration and confusion morphing into lust within the space of two seconds.
He loosened his grip on my thighs, and just as I thought he was giving me space, he shifted in the seat, his hips deliberately moving against the aching heat between my legs.
His hands slid wider, fingers splaying across my skin like it was their right.
This time, I couldn’t stop the audible groan to the man above as my body thrummed with need, my anger seemingly forgotten.
I knew right then and there that if I looked down, my panties would be wet.
“Fuck,” his voice took on a husky edge. Making it very clear that he knew what he was doing, and it was affecting him just as much as me.
The sharp rise and fall of his shoulders evidenced his laboured breathing.
I wanted to run my hands underneath his jacket, to trace the ridges and planes of his back.
“You need to stop.” He gritted, his voice pleading but quiet enough that I almost missed it.
“You need to stop.” My pushback sounded reluctant even to my own ears and at his silence, I wondered what he was thinking. Whether his lips would be pursed in the same way they always were when he was concentrating or if his brows would be pinched into a scowl like they did when he was confused.
In an act which took far more willpower than I thought possible, I moved my arms to circle his waist again. Deliberately, I tightened my grip, overlapping my hands across his abdomen and noting the subtle tension that rippled through his body.
“I wish I could.” He confessed in a whisper, every muscle of my body primed. Turning my face to press lightly against the cool leather of his jacket, I exhaled deeply as he kicked the stand and gunned the throttle, the bike roaring down the street as I clung to him as though my life depended on it.
It wasn’t until we pulled into the parking lot at work that I finally loosened my grip and untangled myself from around him.
I’d been dreading what he might say, bracing for the awkwardness after I’d so obviously enjoyed the morning’s events, but I needn’t have bothered.
The moment I removed my helmet, he was already halfway to the distillery doors, striding off without so much as a backward glance.