Page 17 of Entangled By You
Once I wipe the drool from my chin, my eyes bore into his back at the fridge.
“Wha...” I stutter. “What is all this?”
His big shoulders heave, and he turns back toward me with a couple of bottles of the sparkling water I keep around for when I’m craving a soda.
“I figured I should lighten the blow.”
“Uhm, what blow?”
“Si, came to see me today.”
“Okay, and?”
“You told him you’re worried about Evan coming back. From what I just saw on your face when you got home, something happened. Want to tell me what that was?”
This is the longest conversation we’ve had in years. Even a couple of weeks ago, when he dragged me to his room and I made a colossal mistake the next morning, we didn’t do this much talking. It hurts.
It hurts to see him so casual in my kitchen. It hurts too much to have him showing up and doing nice things like making me dinner. I don’t deserve it after what I did. My heart aches any time we’re in the same room, and the more I try tobuild up my bitchy facade and keep him at arm’s length, the more he seems to want to spar. It’s exhausting. I need space.
“Nothing, I just overreacted.”
“About?”
“Are you going to tell me why you broke into my house and cooked me dinner?”
“Harlow gave me the code, so I didn’t technically break in. Stop deflecting.”
“Why do you care?” I intended that to come out icy, but it just sounds defeated.
A flicker of something I can’t quite put my finger on passes through his eyes, but it’s gone in a flash. When his face turns cold and unreadable, I stumble back a step, shocked by the quick shift in his demeanor. The teasing warmth that was there a mere second ago has been swallowed whole.
“Si, decided I was moving in here with you since you refused to go stay with them. If there’s a threat out there, I need to know about it.”
“Uhh,” I sputter. “Excuse me? You’re not moving in here. I don’t care what my asshole of a brother said, this isn’t his house.”
“Well…”
“Well, what!?” I huff, irritation flashing to life—so much for eating this delicious dinner and going to bed.
“He does kind of own this place.”
“No, I rented it with Harlow years ago from a property management comp—That motherfucker!”
Pierce says something, but the ringing in my ears is too much to hear what it is. Fleeing his presence, I slam my bedroom door and dial up my brother. He’d better fucking answer this time.
“Hey, Lexi. How…”
“You own my townhouse, and you decided Pierce could live with me?!”
“Calm down. I just want to make sure you’re taken care of.”
I scoff at that. He took care of me, alright. Enough to knock my ass up when all I wanted was a fucking orgasm.
“I don’t need taking care of, Silas. I’m a big girl and can handle myself. You caught me on a bad night. I never should have told you two.”
He sighs, and I can hear the groan of his old leather couch through the phone. “Don’t be like that, sis. You know we’re here for you, whatever you need. If you don’t want Pierce living with you, come stay with us. Just for a little while.”
“No. I can’t.”
