Rafael’s expression shutters, and he shrugs casually.“You know how she is.She thinks his word is gospel when he talks about your wedding.”
“What did she say, Rafael?”I say sharply, knowing it will hurt me but still needing to hear it.
My brother sighs.“She told Marco to stop coddling you.That you need a man to get you in line.”
My chest tightens, and I keep my voice neutral.“Did she now?”
“Eve…” Rafael straightens up.“Don’t let it get to you.She’s just obsessed with the idea of him being the only man who’s never given up on you.”
I sink back against the armchair, closing my eyes.“I moved out.I stay out of her hair.I don’t call her, don’t bother her.And yet she still wants to ruin my life.I’m convinced she hates me.”
Rafael chuckles, nudging me with his foot.“Come on.You know she doesn’t hate you.You’re just her problem child.”
“Thanks, Rafael.”I crack an eye open, my voice dry.“You really know how to cheer me up.”
“You’d be lost without me,” my brother sighs happily, earning him a cushion to the face.
He tucks the cushion under his arm.“Thanks.I’m going to crash here tonight.”
I roll my eyes at him as I get up to fetch him an extra blanket.He grasps my hand as I pass by, making me look down at him.
“You know I’ve got your back, right?Marco, me, all of us.If Luis crosses a line or even tries to, we’ll break every bone in his body.”
I squeeze his hand, my voice softening.“I know you do.”
The others, I’m not so sure.
As I get him the blanket, I recall the way Caleb came to my defense.I told him I could handle it, that I knew what I was doing, but in that moment, if Luis had gone after me, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him.Given how at odds we are at all times, having him help me makes me feel strange.There’s a tightness in my chest.This isn't the first time that Caleb has protected me.When Joshua's crazy fling came after me, he shielded me.He patched me up when he didn’t have to do any of those things.
I don’t understand him, or his intentions.Maybe he’s not as much of a jerk as I thought.
But then I remember how he smacked my ass, and my rage returns.He threw me over his shoulder and spanked me.
I don’t care if he was trying to help, I’m not letting that go.
* * *
By the next morning,I’m still torn between being grateful to Caleb Wilder for helping me or kicking his ass for daring to touch mine, but as I stop at the coffee cart outside our building, I end up buying two cups of coffee.Black for me, and the other drowning in milk and sugar, just the way he likes it.He did help me.The least I can do is be cordial.
I balance both cups carefully as I make my way up to the office, my shoulders squared and my chin up, determined to start this Monday on the right foot.
But the moment I step through the office doors, I freeze.
My desk—my perfectly organized, meticulously arranged desk—is completely buried under glittering pink wrapping paper.Every single item has been wrapped: my stapler, my coffee mug, my pen holder, even individual pens.The wrapping paper is obnoxiously bright pink with the word ‘PRINCESS’ printed all over it in glittering gold letters, mixed with little silver crowns.
“What the hell…” I breathe, taking a step closer.
My computer monitor is wrapped.My keyboard is wrapped.My desk lamp is wrapped so thoroughly it looks like a pink disco ball.Even my small succulent pot has been carefully wrapped while somehow leaving the actual plant exposed at the top.
I stand there staring at the glittering monstrosity that used to be my workspace, and despite my best efforts to stay cordial, anger builds in my chest like a wildfire.
Only one person calls me ‘Princess.’Only one person would think this is hilarious.
Caleb.
He’s a dead man.
I’m halfway through my everything bagel when I walk into the office and nearly choke on a bite.
