Page 43 of Keep Me

“Besides,” I add. “I won’t do that to him again—”

A creak on the stairs makes the both of us jump back. We barely do it in time before I turn to find Sylvie staring at us skeptically.

“It was good catching up with you,” Claire says to me with a polite smile. Then she turns toward the stairs, passing Sylvie as she goes. “You two are such a lovely couple,” she says to her before she disappears down the stairs.

I’m left alone with my wife, who is staring at me with that cold, lifeless expression she so often has. “What was that?” she asks with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Nothing,” I grumble before pushing past her to go down the stairs.

She grabs my arm. “It didn’t look like nothing.”

Frustration builds inside me, and I turn back toward her, ready to blow with anger. I put my face in hers, muttering in a low, angry growl. “I said it was nothing.”

“I don’t care what it was,” she replies, stepping up, her neck craned to see my face. “Just keep it in your pants so I don’t lose what’s owed to me.”

“You think I would fuck my friend’s wife?”

She tilts her head with a cynical smirk. “Of course not, Killian. As you said…that wasnothing,right?”

“Fuck you, cow,” I growl.

She shakes her head with a roll of her eyes. Blowing me off, she squeezes past and walks to her room. “You won’t be fucking anyone.” Then she turns toward me and gives me a fake smile. “Darling.”

As she disappears into her room, I have to fight the urge to punch a hole in the wall. Instead, I head downstairs to be with my friends—therealpeople in my life.

Last night, it was kind of me to remove her from the situation and spare her from Liam’s advances. Tonight, I won’t be so kind.

Chapter Fifteen

The day goes by in a blur of laughter and conversation. My friends leave tomorrow, and already I’m feeling like a real ass for staying out of touch for so long. We reminisce about uni, catch up on each other’s lives, and make plans to definitely do this again soon. Like this.

I manage to avoid Claire for the rest of the day, never even daring to look in her direction over lunch or the walk around the grounds later in the day. At the same time, I also manage to avoid Sylvie as well. When she is with our group, she keeps her distance from me, blending in nicely with the ladies so it doesn’t seem strange that she and I aren’t speaking or touching.

The plan tonight is to throw an old-fashioned rager. Everyone wants to get piss drunk, and I’m feeling uneasy about it. I can’t let things get out of hand like they used to.

I’m the first one down for dinner, and I can’t ignore the sour feeling of anxiety gnawing at my gut. Something about what happened today with Claire and Sylvie isn’t quite sitting right with me.

What do I have to feel bad about though? I’ve called off things with Claire.

I’m certainly not going to feel bad about it now. And the last person I’m going to explain myself to is Sylvie.

To my relief, the next person downstairs for dinner is Liam. I’m standing near the bar in the parlor when he walks down and finds me deep in contemplation.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks with a smile as he crosses the room.

“Not much,” I reply nonchalantly.

As he pours himself a drink, he nods toward the hall. “Where’s that hot wife of yours?”

I chuckle. “Still getting ready, I think.”

Liam whistles with a shake of his head. “If that weremywife, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight.”

It’s not the first—or even second—time this weekend my friend has commented on the beauty of my wife. This is exactly what I want, but for some reason, it bothers me.

“I couldn’t control her if I tried,” I reply with a smirk.

“It’s notherI’d be worried about.”

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