“Of course that’s what I want. That girl in there seems fine, Cooper, but she works for you. That’s a recipe for disaster,” he admonished.
“She grew up in Moorway, didn’t she?” Mum scowled, telling me what she thought of that.
“You know she did,” I hissed. “Only, I’m not sure why that matters,” I seethed, my voice low. “And her working for me is also irrelevant.” My parents and I had always argued, we’d gone weekswithout speaking when they weren’t happy with something I did or said, but I’d never stood up to my father in the ways I should. I could go to The Cellar and make grown men bleed. I could disassociate from the brutality caused by my fists while my opponents took the brunt of my unchecked emotions, but I’d never actually directed my anger where it should have gone.
“Oh, settle down,” my father responded dismissively. “We’re on your side. But you shouldn’t blur the lines between service and privilege,” he said, taking a lengthy sip of his drink. “Have your fun and do her a favour or whatever this little project is, but once you’re done, remember Samantha is waiting and she’s a beautiful girl with a strong pedigree.”
“I willneverbe done with her.” I spat, stepping towards him, my ears ringing with a foggy smoke of fury as we came eye to eye. I’d inherited my build from him, but unlike his gluttonous lifestyle, I kept a strict routine allowing for notable physical differences. He lifted his chin, a feeble attempt to gain some kind of advantage and it took everything I had not to scoff. I’d seen many people cower under his glare and while I’d never outright challenged him before that was because he’d never given me enough of a reason. My childhood was spent deflecting the insults and ignoring the heartache of his absence, resulting in such a strong shield that his bullshit barely penetrated. However, it was apparent to both of us right now, that the woman inside wearing my ring was going to be my line in the sand.
And a slight against her was a direct hit on me.
“Evangeline will become my wife, so tread carefully.” The threat in my words was clear and the sharp inhale and widening of my father’s eyes told me he heard it loud and clear.
“Oh, boys, don’t be-”
“I hope you guys like sweets,” Evangeline called, seemingly unaware of the animosity in the air as she interrupted Mum trying to diffuse the tension and reappeared with a tray holding drinks and some of her signature treats. “These are lemon and coconut,”she said pointing to a selection of slices, “And these are mint,” her xenial calm wasted on my undeserving parents.
“You made these?” Dad asked insincerely and my fingers twitched with an angry adrenaline.
My focus narrowed in on his deceptive pomposity, making it hard to think clearly. I watched with a silent intensity as my father reached for a slice, encouraging my mother to try one as if they weren’t just talking shit about her.
I wanted to smack the fucking slices from their hands and tell them to get out of my house, only Eva stole my focus, moving in front of me and pressing her back against my chest. Her scent wrapped around me and buried itself deep in the recesses of my long-term memory. A place for things like the way she smiled through foggy tears when that little fucker called her four-eyes; the way she giggled when I ripped a lolly from her hand and took a bite of my own before returning whatever was left; or the way she looked in that goddamn bikini, the first time I reallynoticedher all those years ago. It was a special shelf reserved only for her, and it would always belong to her – even if she never knew. Seizing the moment, I slipped an arm around her waist and drew her into me. Using her as my own personal comforter was selfish, against all of the unwritten rules considering her actions weren’t for show, but because she’d known. And with our bodies in perfect alignment, she absorbed and then expelled the negative energy I’d been feeling.
My mother was rambling on about some cake one of their cooks had made as if it would hold a flame to anything my fiancée baked. Playing her role like a pro, Eva agreed with such convincing eagerness that even I was starting to buy it. Slipping her hand over mine, I interlaced our fingers across her abdomen as if it was the most natural movement in the world. When I reminded myself to breathe, hints of lemon scented shampoo curled around my senses - heady and intoxicating. I found myself latching on, desperate for every damn second with her in my arms. But when she shook witha laugh performed for the benefit of my insufferable parents, it was my body who responded.
A very specific part of my body.
Fuck.
The curl of her fingers around mine tightened ever so slightly and I knew she felt it too. Knew that any physical comfort she’d been providing was now tainted by my insistent cock. Unable to be ignored as it pressed against the zipper of my pants, desperately painful. Desperate for her.
“Mint is my favourite flavour,” she answered, and for a moment, I wondered if I imagined the huskier edge to her voice. Imagined the subtle tilt of her hips or the slight arch to her back.
“What about you? What’s your favourite flavour?” She asked, her gaze flicking to mine. I squinted at her, unsure how to respond as she levelled me with a hard stare until a grin tugging one corner of my mouth said more than it should. The timing couldn’t have been worse, and yet unmistakable heat bloomed in the air around us.
“You, apparently,” I mumbled, before surprising us both when I leant down and pressed a kiss to her lips. The chaste kiss was innocent in theory, like a thought I followed before it fully formed, but with us it landed with the weight of so much more. I hadn’t meant to do it, not really, but being near her did things I couldn’t explain. Recalibrated my thoughts until she was the focus of my orbit.
Her eyes widened almost as if the move shocked her into a nervous giggle, while my heart was hammering, and my lips were still tingling with the ghost of contact.
My gaze searched hers, unsure if I’d crossed a line or lit a fuse and her blush bloomed fast and bright. An electric tension hanging between us like a held breath.
I wanted to undo the quiet misstep, to apologise for the rule I’d broken but it was then I remembered my parents, both captive, looking between us and assessing.
And now it was my turn to panic. Had I already given them every reason to believe this was total bullshit? I’d never had a partner around them, but surely a quick kiss wasn’t worthy of a ten second pause where I tried to gauge where she was at.
“Knew it,” Eva said with an easy grin, before apologising to our audience and pivoting the conversation to my father’s most recent sales. Unlike me, she didn’t seem caught up in figuring out where the performance ended, and the truth of my feelings began. Although, the bigger surprise wasn’t her reaction - it was how quickly she’d disarmed my rage without even trying.
Effortlessly.
Usually, I would be heightened for days, unable to shake the ever-present frustration of a sly comment until I caved and headed to the ring, misplacing my aggression on whoever signed up that night. Yet, through her presence alone, she’d pulled it from me like water from a sponge.
It was that silent comfort that gave me the patience to listen to my father telling us about his latest contracts for the rest of the hour, even with my mum subtly mentioning Samantha whenever she could. I didn’t have much to contribute, nor did I let Evy move from my grasp, because what if this was it?
What if this was one of the only times I could touch her as if she was mine.
One of a few times I would feel the tenderness of her hand in mine and the soft caress of her fingers against my skin. I breathed her in as if I was stockpiling air, knowing the moment she slipped from my arms, the emptiness would settle deep. And we remained that way until they finally left with more false platitudes and promises to visit soon.
“Well, that was as comfortable as swallowing a pine cone,” she said, as the tail lights disappeared from view.
