I ignored how deadly he looked as he raised the axe above his goddamn magnificent body. How it sliced through the air with the same precision that his smile sliced through my heart. How the dips and ridges of his muscles pulled and lunged like the banter and heat between us whenever we were within reach. My feet pressed into the ground, the rain falling harder as the song ended transitioning into a Sia classic. Being this close to him brought the madness to the surface, added a drop of gasoline, a pinch of frustration and an entire cup of how fucking dare he.
Mid-swing he stilled, my presence palpable. As if he could feel the tornado of emotions whirling around me, desperate to reach out and stroke those same angry chords twirling around him.
Tentatively he turned and the snarl he wore was in direct contrast to the molten intensity of his gaze which dipped to my chest before coming back up to meet my penetrating stare.
His chest rose and fell hard and fast, a mixture of sweat and rain dripping down his sculpted chest and torso. A long-blanketed heat pricked at the anger, seeking permission to get a seat of his own at the table. And somehow, standing before him while he was wearing only a pair of sweats, holding an axe looking like a fucking satanic lumberjack, ignited every single cell in my body.
“What’s your problem?” I screamed, ignoring the way my body always responded to him and harnessing the frenzy echoing off the trees around us louder than the music and the rain. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly but otherwise he gave no reaction he’d even heard what I said.
Daringly, I took a step forward, close enough that I knew he would hear. “I can’t keep up with you. I thought we were good.” I stated, my voice breaking a little before I swallowed it down. “I asked if it was okay to have someone over and you said yes. Then you come in like a damn brute.” My palms lifted from my sides, testament to the energy coursing within.
“You kissed me back,” he spat and the edge of pain in his voice pulled the ground out from under me.
“What?” I snapped loudly. “You kissed me first.” I added softly, confused by his words.
If it was possible, his scowl deepened. That temper beyond untamed like a wildfire which smouldered before erupting in an uncontrollable blaze. His eyes closed for the briefest second before his voice boomed around the otherwise empty backyard.
“You kissed me back, Evangeline, and then you brought your fucking boyfriend here,” he exploded, the rivulets of water running down his face, a glaring difference to the fire in his eyes. He stalked closer, the storm of his emotions swallowing me whole.
“Your fucking boyfriend!” He repeated acidly and suddenly I short-circuited. Like, fully rebooted as everything clicked intoplace. My inhale was audible, my laugh maniacal as the pieces came together like magnets.
“Xavier isnotmy fucking boyfriend, you menace!” I laughed without humour. “Are you actually serious?” There was no stopping me, the can was open and there were worms everywhere. “And even if he was, what gives you the right to be so rude? Are you jealous, Cooper?” His eyebrow twitched, telling me I’d hit a nerve. “You are the one who said that this - this -” I thrust my hand back and forth between us, pointing to the ring resting on my finger, “was all fake. You are the one who suggested we do this. You are the one who sets all the rules and determines how each day goes, depending on what fucking mood you’re in.” I gasped for air, shoving down my tears.
“You told him you loved him!” His chin was raised, envy oozing through his sharp tone.
“What the fuck have you been smoking, you covetous prick!” My mind was racing with the loose threads of truth, the intensity of our emotions preventing any form of rational conversation. “I do love him!” My voice was loud now, battling to be heard over the rain and driven by suppressed thoughts.
“He is my friend!” I emphasised. “My amazing, hilarious, incredibly loyal friend.You’dhave more chance of having a sexual relationship with him than I would though. But that is entirely irrelevant. None of that excuses your fucking rudeness.” The profanity was unleashed, two years of restraint gone and all because of this man. This man who stood before me, a storm of envy, with now - nothing to say.
“Coop, I was happy to play along with your little game, but I can’t handle this whiplash of emotions. If you’re angry you need to tell me. I can’t read your fucking mind, and we aresupposedto be in love,” I slurred.
“We are supposed to be in a relationship which means we need to communicate. This is entirely fucked up. I never would have agreed if I knew I was signing up for this.” My hand swept the air between us. “But I won’t leave, Cooper. I’m not goinganywhere until you explain yourself. I will stay out here all night if I must, so you can stop opening and closing your mouth like a fucking goldfish and talk to me.”
He stared at me, the axe hitting the ground as his shoulders slumped. But I didn’t move. This time I wasn’t going to fill the silence with anything. It was time forhimto talk. Four letters. Deceptively short, unbelievably heavy, and weighted with my personal numerical doom.
“Evy,” he whispered, his head dropping. “I’m sorry. I don’t - I’ve never.” When he flicked his gaze back up to me, I was overcome with indecision. As if I was simultaneously listening to two different songs where one dragged me forward the other held me back.
“I’m not your punching bag.” I gritted, exasperated. But masochistically trying to bait him. To get him to respond and give me something. Anything.
“Anger is all I’ve ever known.” His hushed confession shut me up quicker than a mute button. “Until recently.” He looked away guiltily, running a hand through his hair. “Until you.”
I turned his words over, trying to find their shape.
Understanding arrived the second his eyes flicked down to my chest, and I followed the movement, my soft pink crop jumper entirely see-through, my taut nipples visible.
But I wasn’t going to be ashamed or cover up. This was me.
I pushed my shoulders back and looked up to meet his eyes, only his ire had dissipated. This was a new emotion, written in the narrowing of his gaze, the softening of his features and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
“Ohhh.” My understanding was audible. Hewasjealous.
He was jealous the same way I would have been if I’d assumed he had a girlfriend this whole time. It didn’t excuse his anger, and it most definitely didn’t make his reaction okay, but I understood.
Because in his eyes now I saw the boy I’d always known.
That same boy who, when he thought no one could see him,dropped the armour and looked like he just needed someone to listen to him. Someone to tell him everything they loved about him and that he was worth more than the amount of money in his bank account.
Here now, I saw the inner turmoil of uncertainty and while examining him, I also spotted the very moment before he lost control.
