13 | Melina #2
He leans back, and I let out the breath I was apparently holding.
“I was thinking in the top corner we could have a counter that says, ‘How many kiddos Taylor has saved?’” He redoes my top button and boops my nose with his finger. “You can do that, right?”
I look down at his brown leather shoes, then close my eyes.
What the hell was my cave woman brain thinking?
It only took him five seconds to seduce me.
Why do I turn into complete mush whenever he touches me?
Am I really that attracted to him? Or worse, does he know I’m really that attracted to him?
“Why did you make me dinner?” I ask. If Taylor knew I was already back on the project, what was the point of all this?
He shrugs. “I like doing things in threes. Just next time, when we negotiate, leave my brother out of it.”
An “Oh my God” escapes my lips for the second time tonight. Is he serious? “You’re an idiot!” I shout to the heavens.
“Wha—”
“Everything makes so much more sense now!”
Why haven’t I thought of it sooner? He could’ve done me the privilege of telling me he’s an idiot, so I didn’t have to waste all this time figuring it out myself.
And cockblocking isn’t even that great of a comeback.
I don’t have sex all the time. What’s one more night going to do?
At least I got pancakes out of it. Some nights, I might rather have pancakes than sex.
It would depend on the quality of the sex and the quality of the pancakes.
I step towards him. “Your brother wasn’t trying to convince me. He just happened to say something that made me feel bad for you. An appeal to pathos.”
“What’s there to feel bad about? I live in a castle, remember?” He waves a hand in the air to gesture to the castle.
“He told me that you’re stuck in a dead-end job.
It’s something I can relate to. I hate freelancing.
Being your own boss sounds great in theory, but it’s frustrating as hell in practice.
Though I can quit if I want to, I can look forward to retirement.
But you,” I push at his chest with my finger, “You have to live your whole life waiting for a position you don’t even want. ”
He thinks for a second. “You’re making me a website out of pity?”
I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m the first person to pity the multi-millionaire.
“Yes, Taylor. I know this is a novel idea for you, but I have feelings. Most people do, actually. I don’t know what your goal in life is, but if it happens to be this charity, I shouldn’t be the one to stop you. Even if you are a little annoying.”
He blinks. “That’s still not as satisfying.”
“Why didn’t you just ask your brother what he said to me?”
“I did, he told me you guys barely talked. I didn’t believe him.”
“Great. Then this was just a big waste of time for you.”
Taylor checks his phone. “There’s a car waiting for you out front. I gave him your address.”
“What? No apology? No admission of wrongdoing? You’re just giving me the boot?”
He puts a hand on his chest like he’s the one offended. “I’m very sorry that I invited you over to my house and made you dinner. You must feel absolutely terrible.”
My eyes clench out of frustration. “Jesus, how are you still this bad at apologizing?” I mutter. “You have to learn that your actions have consequences. You can’t just play me like that and not expect something in return.”
“And what am I getting in return?” he asks in a deeper voice.
“I will,” I pause to think of my great revenge, “figure out something.”
He nods his head dismissively. “I’ll walk you out.”
I trail behind Taylor as he leaves the kitchen. “Don’t underestimate me, Guilbert. You better watch your back.”
“I have goosebumps,” he says flatly.
He walks very fast. I almost have to run to keep up with him.
When we reach the door, I point at his face. “This isn’t over.”
Taylor grabs my coat off a hook behind me and drapes it over my shoulders.
His fingertips brush against the back of my neck when he pulls my hair out from beneath the collar.
Unprompted shivers run down my spine. He did that to me at my apartment too, an unconscious gesture that feels too kind for such a disagreeable person. He doesn’t want this to be over either.
“You still have my keys, don’t you?” I ask.
His facial expression doesn’t change. God, the things I would do to know what he’s thinking. As I scan the entryway, I’m reminded of how quiet it is in the place. There’s a faint clock ticking, but that’s it.
“Are they in this giant house somewhere?” I pry.
I reach behind him to pull open the top drawer of a small mahogany table, making sure to brush up against him. He’s very rigid. It feels like brushing up against a wall. The drawer is empty, of course. I imagine this place is full of beautiful things that serve no purpose.
“Or has it been in your back pocket this whole time?” I ask, placing a gentle hand on his abs.
He doesn’t protest, so slowly, I move it across his waist, down his back, into his pocket.
He snatches my wrist and shakes his head slightly. He’s not interested in playing anymore. I can’t tell if he’s saying no to my keys being in his back pocket or his ass being touched. It was a long shot either way.
“Melina,” he says in the softest voice I’ve ever heard him speak. His swallow is almost sheepish like he’s a teenage boy and I’m his first ever real-life boob. “Get out of my house.”
My palm, still in his clutch, is a lot gentler than before. We’re holding hands. When I look down, he instantly takes it off mine.
“Sorry,” he says, like he messed up a line and holding my hand isn’t in the script.
I can’t help but smirk at the slip-up. Something about me must scare him because he avoids eye contact like the plague.
“You are a strange, strange man,” I say as I open the door.
A cold breeze hits my skin, and the sound of an expensive engine runs in the distance. As I leave, I replay what a certain sibling of Taylor’s told me. Something about...taking it and dishing it?
“Goodbye, Taylor!” I shout from the courtyard. “Or as we say in St. Claire, adieu!”
“Au revoir,” he corrects.
I turn around. “What’s the difference?”
“You can look it up later. Begone with you.”
I give him a salute.
Something about the little smile and headshake Taylor does before closing the door makes my stomach feel all fluttery. As soon as I get in the car, I look up the difference between adieu and au revoir. Apparently, adieu means ‘goodbye forever,’ and au revoir means more ‘see you later.’
Oh yes, Taylor, I will be seeing you later.
I do an evil laugh. Not aloud, but in my mind.
Ha ha ha.