Page 36 of Silent Cravings

Dammit, how was he even hotter now? All absorbed by his work, scowling as he forcefully typed a message.

“What did that poor keyboard ever do to you?” I asked, crossing the room and taking a seat. I couldn’t stop staring at him the entire way. His jaw was tight enough to crack a walnut, his nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed at the screen.

“It’s not a big deal,” he explained, though the rigid set of his jaw told a different story. He was pissed, fighting to hold his temper, which shouldn’t have turned me on the way it did. He was never so much fun as he was when he lost control. Right now, he was teetering on the edge, and the crackling energy pouring off him was an aphrodisiac.

What the hell was I thinking? I had to be better than this. I owed it to myself. “Is there anything I can help with?”

He shook his head, pounding a few more keys before tapping his trackpad. “I was emailing my father’s lawyer in response to a message they sent this morning.”

His father.

There weren’t many topics that could piss him off as easily or as thoroughly as that man. I didn’t really know him. It wasn’t like Evan had brought me around to meet the family, even when we were sneaking off together whenever we had the chance that one summer. Still, I had heard about him repeatedly, incessantly. And it didn’t look like time had eased any of the resentment.

“What’s going on?” I asked, forgetting work for a minute when he looked at me with what could only be described as rage written across his face. Something else that time hadn’t erased was the impulse to comfort him when I could.

“Dad showed up here on Sunday to tell me he and Mom are divorcing.”

“Oh, my God,” I whispered. Divorce after thirty yearswasn’t common. How did a couple decide they’d made a mistake after three decades?

He waved off my concern with a scowl. “The lawyers actually think I give a shit about what this could do to my trust. The divorce settlement, I mean. Dad might have to shift assets around, break the trust, restructure it.”

“They emailed to tell you that?”

He nodded, growling. “And I told them to get fucked if they think I give a shit about the money. I have more than enough.” He slammed himself back in his chair with a grunt. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a way for him to find out how comfortable I am. Like he expects me to scream and throw a fit like some spoiled trust fund baby. He won’t come right out and ask how much I’m making here, so he has to find another way.”

“I know there isn’t exactly a lot of love lost between you two, but do you really think he would go this far just to see how well you’ve done?”

“I don’t fucking know.” Pushing back from the desk, he threw his hands in the air. He looked and sounded hopeless, almost defeated. Only his father could do that to him.

I thought back on all the nights he had poured his heart out to me, especially when it came to getting ready to leave for Harvard. Any parent would have been elated to know their son was attending such a prestigious school that he had worked hard enough to earn a place there. All Thomas Anderson could do was make snarky comments about his son, thinking he was too good for the rest of the family now that he was going off to school. The man was a mystery, even more so than his son.

But he would never come straight out and admit how he felt or how much he resented Evan for being a success.“It’snot in our DNA,” Evan used to tell me.“We don’t talk about things like your family does.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered. What did a person say to a full-grown adult whose parents were getting a divorce?

He ran a hand through his hair, the too-long waves flopping against his forehead as he heaved a sigh. “Thanks. It’s stupid of me to let him get to me like this. I know it. It’s just… there’s never any way to prepare for his bullshit. I always feel like I get caught with my pants down, you know?”

Weren’t we supposed to be discussing the wedding? I just couldn’t bring myself to ignore what he was going through. Comforting him again.

“Remember that time you came over to our apartment after you had that fight with him?” I asked, going warm at the memory. “I told you it would be okay because nobody was home?”

For the first time since I entered the office, he grinned. It took him no time to recall the night in question. “I remember your dad’s study,” he replied, his smile going wider while I blushed at the memory. “I couldn’t believe you wanted to do it right then and there on his desk.”

“If I remember correctly, he sort of pissed me off that day. I don’t remember what it was about,” I admitted. “But I remember thinking how funny it was.”

“It wouldn’t have been so funny if he’d caught us,” he pointed out, wincing.

“But he didn’t. If memory serves me correctly, it was pretty fucking hot.” Hot enough that my heart fluttered a little when I thought back.

I cleared my throat, breaking eye contact when I looked in my bag. We were not doing this today. We couldn’t keep going through the same chain of events every time we gottogether. My pussy would have to deal with going unattended today. “Anyway, we really do have to get to work.”

“Sure,” he agreed with a sarcastic snort. “Now that I have a hard-on.”

“You’re the one who brought up what we did that night,” I pointed out. “I was only remembering having you come over to hang out so you wouldn’t punch a hole in a wall or something.”

“You were the one who went down on me while I was sitting in your dad’s chair.” He lowered his brow along with his voice. “You taught me a lesson that night. The possibility of getting caught makes things so much hotter.”

Why did he have to keep going with this? And why was it so damn effective? He was a drug, demanding I turn my back on everything that mattered in favor of one more hit.

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