Chapter 16 #3
Running a hand through my hair, I head to the patio doors. I slide them open and walk out.
The heat is hard to take this time of year, and yet I feel nothing. All I want to know is what happens downstairs.
All I want to know is what these two people are to each other. And why do they always go away and return unexpectedly?
It’s like they’re fighting each other all the time.
For sure, he didn’t expect her to come home this evening.
I’m so unsettled that a new idea pops into my head.
Looking around, I search for something to wear. My pajamas.
Not the shorts and cami set. I need something different. The last thing I want is to look sexy.
I dash to the closet and look for my other set. Long pants and a top.
I pick up the pants and toss the T-shirt on before I run my hands through my hair to make it look like a rats’ next, and then I put on a robe.
The heat slithers into the room through the open door, so before I leave I close it, and the air is crisp again.
Yawning to get into my character, I slide out the door and listen.
They’re still in the kitchen. They’re not fighting. Not shouting at each other. His ploy must have worked.
What did he say to her? That the power had just gone out when she stepped into the house?
That’s why I need to know what’s going on.
I move down the corridor and take the stairs to the first floor.
I stop at the bottom of the stairs and listen.
They talk about the… weather? Traveling to New York?
New York?
When are they planning to go to New York?
Silverware clinks against plates as they talk monotonously, some words lost in the domestic noise.
Are they having dinner? Together?
Are they sitting at the beautiful kitchen island where he just fucked me, and they’re bonding over dinner?
The afterglow dies a brutal death in the fangs of jealousy.
Why does it bother me so much?
Because it reminds me that these two people have history together. They sound like two married people enjoying each other’s presence.
Despite what he said to me, and I believed every word, that’s how they sound.
Initially, I wanted to eavesdrop on them and return to my room. If I had gotten caught, I would’ve said I just got out of bed and needed a glass of water.
But now?
I move back to the stairs, take a few steps up, spin around, and walk down as I’d normally would if I didn’t sneak up on people.
I make a point out of creating some noise so they know I’m coming and not suspect that I was actually spying on them.
Frankly, I’ve never been good at acting, so despite my best efforts, I sound fake when I enter the kitchen and pretend to be surprised that they’re here.
“You two found each other,” I murmur, not putting the slightest effort into how I look.
I know his eyes are on me.
I feel their curiosity and intensity on my face. I also know how the two of them are positioned around the kitchen island.
He’s facing the entrance. She has her back turned to me. Shifting in her seat, she looks at me. I think she’s chewing on her food.
They’re both eating, glasses of wine in front of them.
My hand squeezes a bottle of water too damn hard as I grab it out of the refrigerator.
As I turn to them, I meet her scrutinizing eyes.
From her expression, I gather that she likes what she sees. She honestly enjoys that my hair is in disarray, and I look as if I fell out of a bus.
“How’s dinner?” I ask to shift her focus away from me, and then I realize what a big mistake I’ve made.
His expression clues me in.
He lifts his chin up and looks at me as if I stepped into a turd and the smell has spread around the kitchen.
Then he purses his lips and bites the inside of his cheek. She notices the direction of my stare and turns to him. That’s when the second clue becomes evident.
His face is blank, his demeanor changed.
The tension vanishes from his shoulders as he drops his elbows onto the counter and runs a hand through his hair, looking bored as fuck.
He doesn’t make eye contact with her, so she shifts her stare to me. Henrietta is not dumb.
She absolutely isn’t, and every alert system in my body goes off at the same time.
So what am I supposed to say or do now?
“Does anyone have a painkiller in this house? I have a terrible headache,” I mutter, annoyed with myself.
“They’re in all bathrooms, including yours,” she says dryly.
“Thank you,” I say in a clipped voice, and then I move toward the door before I turn around.
They’re both still looking at me.
Damon has his fingers clasped together on the counter.
She has a lifted eyebrow and a scrutinizing expression on her face.
I messed up so badly.
What he had said to her worked well until I showed up and ruined his story, whatever that story may have been.
“Oh, wait. You’re home early, aren’t you?”
My poor attempt to save the situation hardly saves anything. He tilts his eyes down and has a pained expression on his face, while her focus on me only sharpens.
I’ve got nothing next to these people when it comes to finding my way out of a sticky situation.
“I guess you are…”
My voice trails off before I pivot and slip out the door as if I’m chased away by a pack of hungry wolves.