Page 100 of Chasing After You
I rest my elbows on my knees, trying to keep from escalating the situation. “He’s here to look out for you. There’s no harm in it.”
“I—he—you—”She scrambles to find the right words, and I think I’ve broken her. Mirabelle inhales, pressing her fingers to her temples before speaking a full sentence. “I’m so fucking mad at you.”
I can’t help it. I smile.
Mirabelle narrows her eyes at me. “Why are you smiling? This isn’t funny.”
“It kinda is. You look cute,” I say, and Mira looks behind me at Crosby.
“Do you think this is funny?” she asks him, and I can only imagine the look on his face.
“Well, ma’am, I don’t know the situation so I’m afraid I can’t answer whether it’s funny or not,” he answers, sounding more professional than I’ve ever heard him. I turn back to him, raising my eyebrows.
“Ma’am?You’re weak. You can go up against three-hundred-pound men charging at you, but she scares you?” I ask, the words slipping out of my mouth. Actually, maybe I shouldn’t have just said that.
It feels like I have a gun trained at my head when I look at Mirabelle again, her expression has changed into one I can’t read. “No, Henry, you’re right. I’m not scary at all.” She leans down to press her lips against my cheek, and it feels like a kiss of death. “He’s fine for today, but get rid of him, Henry.Je te verrai plus tard.”37
I take it back.
I’m scared of her.
Mirabelle walks off, ignoring the bodyguard who is following behind her.
Crosby shakes his head at me, laughing. “You’re a dead man fucking walking if you think she isn’t scary.”
~
I got a call from Sebastian earlier, saying that he and Thalia were coming into town this afternoon to meet with the builders at their house, and they want to see us after. We’re supposed to get dinner at Mira’s favorite restaurant. I sent her a text earlier, but I never heard back. I haven’t seen Mirabelle either since she came into the weight room to put the fear of God into me. She succeeded too. Wilson’s car isn’t in the driveway, so I guess he’ll be spared the argument we’re probably about to have. Lucky him.
Bracing myself for the wildfire that’s surely going to incinerate me, I walk in the door, surprised not to hear a single sound from inside the calm house. That’s not an encouraging sign.
All the lights are on, and I set my things next to the door, punching in the alarm code to disable it. My cleaners came today, so the place is spotless—coincidentally, great timing with the Walkers coming. The back door is open, and the string lights around the patio and pool area are on.
Maybe she’s out there?
“Mirabelle?” I call out, fear starting to creep in. Where is Tom?
“I’m here, you don’t need to yell,” she says from behind me, and my jaw hits the floor. Her blonde hair falls in waves over her shoulders and down her back, over the jersey I immediately recognize as mine. Mirabelle’s long legs are on display, and I’m not sure where to look. “Excuse me,” Mirabelle says, tapping my arm for me to move. I think my jaw is broken because I’m incapable of picking it up off the floor.
She’s a walking dream.
I stumble out of the doorway, letting her walk past me, my eyes lingering on my last name across her back. I have never craved anyone the way I crave Mirabelle. The night of my birthday has been stuck on a loop in my head, the image of Mirabelle choking herself on my cock as she stared up at me with trust shining in her eyes, wearing tiny lace scraps as she had her fingers buried in her panties. It was entirely worth the shit I caught from Wilson and Andrew for leaving some of our clothes in the hallway, but this image is definitely being added to that loop.
“Is that my jersey?” I choke out, knowing damn well it is.
She looks back at me as she nears the edge of the pool. “Sorry, you can have it back.”
And then in one smooth motion, Mirabelle pulls off the jersey, dropping it in a pile on the ground as she dives into the heated pool, wearing nothing else.
“Fucking hell,” I curse under my breath, nearly tripping over my own feet as I pull my own clothes off to eagerly join her.
The warm water feels amazing on my sore muscles, and I take a few purposeful strokes toward Mirabelle as she treads water in the deep end. She skirts away playfully, staying out of my reach.She’s going to be the death of me.“Sorry, I’m swimming right now.” Mirabelle smiles at me, and the dots connect in my head.
“Is this because I hired Tom?”
She disappears under the water, only to pop up further away from me in the shallower end of the pool. “Did you tell him not to come back tomorrow?”
A short, incredulous laugh escapes me. “No. He’s for your own good.”Tom being with her gives me the peace of mind I need to know she’s okay.
