“What should I expect from them?” Her voice was softer, the gentle touch of her fingers against my wrist as comforting as it was shocking. For a second, we both stared at the gesture, the warmth of her touch gone just as fast when she realised what she’d done.
“They’ll be abrasive and ask a lot of questions,” I answered honestly. “And any kindness comes with a price tag. Keep your guard up.” The truth of my words was still painful, even after all these years.
“Perfect. I love questions,” she said with forced gusto. “I’m the woman for the job.” She added proudly, hopping off the table to stand next to me. Even question loving Evy was no match for the intrusiveness of Portia Dane. And that was what worried me most. I could handle my parents, and I’d mastered the art of indifference long ago, but I’d never needed to protect someone else from their bullshit. Masking was easier when you were only worrying about yourself.
Evangeline didn’t deserve their gaslighting yet here I was, selfishly bringing her into a crucible.
Maybe I should just tell them the truth? We’d played this game for so long, always staying one step ahead and dodging their traps. But now I was raising the stakes. I was adding a new player and for once, I’d have a teammate, and the playing field was even.
“What are you thinking?” Her question brought me back to the room where she’d moved a little closer, my own hands now gripping her wrists. The gesture had happened naturally, the anxiety and worry around a simple afternoon visit proving as stressful as it always did.
“I’m thinking, maybe we should practice while it’s just the two of us. Want to make out?” I waggled my brows teasingly, enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks too much.
“You wish,” she replied, but her quick glance up to the roof was a dead giveaway I’d taken her by surprise.
“What about if you just sit on my lap?” I tried, tugging her hands a little towards me, suddenly feeling desperate to practice.
“You aren’t even wearing a shirt. Absolutely not,” she said, but her lips twitched a little.
“Do you remember how you’d curl yourself around me when we watched movies, forcing me to keep you warm,” I mumbled, thinking about the nights she, Seb and I would sit in front of theTV. Seb on his usual armchair but Eva and I were entangled like pretzels.
“That was twenty years ago.”
“I bet it would feel the same,” I said quietly, wondering now if I was still joking.
I wasn’t even sure she’d heard until she whispered that she always slept better on the nights we spent together.
“I promise to behave,” I quipped, the lie falling easily from my lips, desperate to cut through the moment. Teasing was light. Safe. But the second things got personal - that’s when it stopped being a charade - and I couldn’t let it go there.
When she wasn’t looking at me, I could deny many things. Things that, from the moment I saw her at the opening night of Grey Petal, had swarmed through my subconscious. Thoughts that reminded me of exactly who she was - who she’d always been and how she lived in my marrow, inciting a hunger too deep to name.
“You better or I’ll bite,” she said playfully, and I sent an immediate directive to my cock to ignore the images my mind was flashing forth.
“You make it difficult when you smell fucking edible all the time,” I said, eyes downcast as I exhaled on a groan.
“Stop making those noises,” she admonished. “Especially when you still aren’t wearing a shirt.”
“Why? Can’t resist?” I teased, pulling her hands towards my skin, only she jolted backwards.
“I’m happy to help you,” she said, staring directly into my eyes. “But I’m not one of your toys, Coop, so please don’t play with me.”
Any hope I’d been feeling dissipated like mist in the air, and I deflated.
She looked at me the same way everyone else did. And I had no one to blame but myself because it was a reputation I’d created and fostered.
But it stung more than I could have anticipated and with theair sucked from my lungs, I couldn’t muster a response. Any will to defend myself and tell her Iwouldnever,couldnever hurt her like that, gone. Instead, I nodded, slowly swivelling towards the desk and re-opening my laptop.
“We’ll leave at seven tomorrow morning. I like to get in before everyone else,” I said, my voice void of any of the humour from only moments ago.
“Okayyyy,” she elongated, clearly unsure of the sudden dip in my mood. Affixing her headphones back over her ears, she retreated as quietly as she arrived without so much as a backwards glance, leaving me to wallow in the disappointment that she too thought I was a fool who cared for no one other than himself.
It was close to 10:00 pm when my phone buzzed with an offer from Marcus.
I’d been moody all afternoon, keeping a wide berth from Eva and doing everything I could to stay busy. I was used to people doubting me, thinking less of me. I grew up in a house without love where indifference was the wallpaper. And usually, I couldn’t have cared less.
I was happy to play the part: the easy-going joker who didn’t give a damn what people thought. The guy who did whatever he wanted with little remorse. I lived a life of solitude because it meant I could come and go as I pleased. I didn’t date because I didn’t need anyone tying me down. I engaged in the occasional fight because it gave me somewhere to unload the negativity that wrapped itself around me like a second skin and I answered to nobody other than myself.
My days were filled with work, stretching late into the evening, only to wake and do it all over again. A never-ending cycle, broken only by the occasional night out with the boys, a trip to the ring, or a training session with Sebastian. A life ofsolitude I’d built on purpose and protected by a carefully constructed mask of happy-go-lucky bullshit.
