Page 15 of Love Me

Four cars are already parked outside Grandmother’s mansion when the driver opens the door for me. I look at my silver watch. I am right on time.

She said seven o’clock, well it’s five till.

Squaring my shoulders, I step out.

“This way.” Thomas leads me down the hallway toward the dining room.

I calm my nerves. I can’t fail this. The doors open and I walk inside. All sound vanishes. Blake blinks at me and downs half a glass of wine. Abigail snaps her head from me to her right. I know he’s sitting next to her without even looking. Every atom in me is hyperaware of him. Only Bailey jumps from her chair, ignoring the disapproving looks from Grandmother.

“You’re back. I missed you.” She hugs me, and I do the same. She was more like a sibling than a friend. They all were.

“Bailey.” Kaden’s voice lowers with disapproval, blowing my heart to shreds. He’s an expert at that.

Our gazes lock, his eyes a magnificent fury of deep blue and gray––a bottomless ocean and a cloudy sky clashing together. That’s all. Nothing else would reveal that I affect him. I guess I am not the only one who has worked on their reactions.

“I just wanted to welcome her back.” Bailey’s aquamarine eyes shine with sincerity. She’s the youngest of us. With her strawberry hair and slim figure, she’s like a delicate fairy.

“This is quite the surprise,” Abigail says. I look at her. Her straight, long blond hair flows down her back, and her perfect features are covered with expertly applied makeup. She’s beautiful, like a doll. Abigail and Bailey are in elegant dresses, the guys in crisp slacks and button-down shirts.

“Great, indeed.” Blake pours himself another glass. He’s gained more muscles, oozing physical strength.

“Blake.” Grandmother points her gaze to him. He puts the empty glass down only after he downed it.

Like always, not caring about consequences.

Bailey steals glances at the other three. Abigail looks at me with sharp disappointment while Kaden looks straight ahead. Blake leans back, shaking his head at me.

Welcome home.

My childhood and teenage years flash before my eyes. All four were an integral part of that. Now, all dressed up and polished to perfection, they look like strangers. Hurt surfaces, but I stomp on that quickly.

“I don’t want her here.”

That voice that used to warm even the most numb corners of my being drops so low the room temperature plummets. Like my heart.

I look from Kaden to Grandmother and catch the satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. I might not be under his spell, but I will never get near to being her brainless little loyal soldier, either.

“That’s not for you to decide. Celine has been welcomed home, and as such, she will be moving in with you.”

His fingers grip the knife, and a muscle in his jaw thickens. You fool, that’s exactly what she wants, to get a reaction.

“But—” Abigail gives.

Grandmother shoots a disapproving look at her. Oh, Abi. She doesn’t tolerate weakness, and you reek of having him as a weakness. Blake has his alcohol, and Bailey is starved for any love at all.

“Let’s eat,” Grandmother says.

There is one seat left next to Kaden. When I sit down, goose bumps erupt on the side next to him. His heady scent of sandalwood and bergamot, his cologne mixed with his natural smell, dizzies my senses. My hands tremble, and I hide them under the table. From the outside, it’s as if I am a proper lady—perfectly composed.

Heat and anger emanate from him, but when I steal a glance at him, he has himself under control. But being attuned to him, the connection between us sizzles, making it impossible to ignore. An unbreakable bond binds us. I wish I could shred it with my bare hands and scatter the pieces in the ocean for the waves to carry them all away, far away from me. I sense his breath galloping, his muscles straining, tearing at my composure.

After the first course is served, Bailey looks at me with eyes brimming with curiosity. “How was it in England?”

My heart breaks for her. I don’t know how, but I will ensure the things I unleash do not affect her. I can be her friend as long as she doesn’t expect me to be honest.

“Bailey, behave,” Grandmother chastises her. We all return to our truffle soup. I spoon the succulent broth, the foie gras melting on my tongue.

Her head drops, and Blake puts one elbow on the table and snickers. “I’m curious too.”

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