Page 37 of Keep Me

Our tongues tangle, and our teeth nibble, and somewhere along the way, she stops fighting and simply melts in my arms.

When we finally part, she gives me a fiery wide-eyed stare. Her angry gaze stays affixed to my face as Liam jerks me away and pats me hard on the back.

“Let’s fucking celebrate,” he shouts before the sound of a bottle of champagne popping jerks Sylvie out of her reverie. We’re each forced a flute of bubbly into our hands, and the next thing I know, we’re toasting with my friends.

But I’m in a daze. I’m too focused on her, her reaction, her attitude. Even when she fakes a smile and laughs with my friends’ wives, she hides her discomfort under the surface. I want to drag it out of her.

After the first bottle is gone, I start to worry that this party is off the rails already. Just then, Martha walks into the room and announces that dinner is ready. So the party files into the dining room where the large table has been set with a modern arrangement.

The group mingles around the table, and Sylvie ends up on the end opposite me. It grates on my nerves to have her so far away. We’re supposed to be proving to everyone how in love we are. It’s hard to do that when I can’t even reach her.

Which means it relies on our abilities to talk to and about each other, something we’ve failed at miserably up until now.

We don’t even make it through the first course when one of the wives at the table asks, “So, how did you two meet?”

My gaze flits to Sylvie, who stares back with a challenging expression.

Here goes nothing.

“Well…would you believe this little criminal broke into my house?”

With hooded eyes, she glares at me from across the table.

“Broke into your house?” my friend Greg laughs from the opposite end.

“I did notbreakin,” Sylvie replies defensively. “The door was unlocked.”

“I was just out of the shower when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I come out to find a beautiful American woman standing in my foyer.”

I catch the way her throat moves when she swallows.

“What were you doing?” someone asks.

“My boyfriend at the time wanted to see something inside the house but was too scared to walk in. I happened to see a woman leaving through the back, so I just…slipped in.”

Holding my glass in my hand, I lean back in my chair. How have we not talked about that day since Sylvie moved in? I completely forgot about the woman who left that morning. I couldn’t remember her name if I tried.

But I sense a hint of jealous pride on Sylvie’s face at the mention of the girl. I like the way it looks on her.

“You just…slipped into someone’s house?” Liam asks with a laugh.

“I knew from that moment I would marry her,” I say proudly from the head of the table.

Sylvie rolls her eyes and shakes her head, biting back her smile. “What he means is he knew from that moment he would trick me into marrying him.”

“They trick us all into falling in love with them, don’t they?” one of the women at the table says with a grin.

Sylvie stares at me. Her bright hazel eyes are all I can see. “I was definitely tricked.”

Everyone laughs, and I join in. I know she’s saying it all for show, and none of this is real. I know deep down she still despises me. It’s fun though. I’ll admit that. To see her coerced into being nice to me. She hates every second, and it brings me more pleasure than anything I’ve ever done. And that’s saying a lot.

Chapter Thirteen

After dinner, the party moves to the bar. We’re all sitting around the living room, and I’m too drunk already. I can tell.

It feels as if Sylvie is a moving target I can’t seem to keep focused on. Every time I turn around, she’s moved. One moment, she’s sitting next to Greg’s wife, whose name I can’t remember, and then when I blink, she’s outside on the veranda, staring out at the infinite darkness over the garden.

I’m sitting on the sofa next to Liam with an empty glass in my hand. He knocks my shoulder.

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