Page 46 of Eden's Deliverance

We arenotsiblings, and never will be.

He doesn’t break eye contact with me until the meal is over and it’s time for me to walk Penelope out. We say our goodbyes and plan what time she’ll pick me up on Sunday to go back to campus, but I already wish we could leave now. At the very least, I wish I could stay with her instead of here in Satan’s lair.

Dad and Gretchen head to bed soon after, intent on waking up early for Thanksgiving dinner prep, so I go up to my room for a shower.

The hot water doesn’t do much to clear my head or relax my muscles; I’m still reeling from Skylar’s comments at dinner and the way he kept staring at me.

Penelope’s remark from earlier comes to mind, and I wonder if it’s possible there’s any truth to it. The last time we were here for dinner, he did make a sly joke about me being a ‘giver,’ then did that thing with his thumb and lip—some kind of innuendo.

I thought it was just him being an asshole as usual, but maybe therewassomething else to it.

I don’t want to seem conceited and come on to him like a freak, but if there’s any validity to Pen’s theory, I could use it to my advantage. I seriously need to get off right now, and when I looked at him tonight, it just reminded me of Broody on my birthday.

I cannot stop thinking about that night, or the fact it might have been the best orgasm I’ve ever had—apparently, the orgasm to end all orgasms, if the past three weeks have been any indication.

I toss on an old T-shirt that’s long enough to be a nightgown, then lay on my bed and finally allow myself a deep breath. I will say, it’s comforting to be in my old room again. Dad left it exactly how it was before I went to live on campus, so it’s always a safe place for me to call home when I need it.

I thought so, anyway—until I spy the Post-it note stuck to the mirror of my dresser.

See you on New Year’s Eve.

That’s it. This is pushing itwaytoo far. If it’s not Skylar, then how would they know where my dad lives? How would they know I’m here right now and not on campus still?

I find him on the back deck, smoking a cigarette by himself.

“Are you fucking with me?” I shout, shoving him against the wall he’s leaning on. Now that I know he smokes, it wasn’t too hard to find him.

“What the fuck are you talking about, you crazy bitch? Get out of my face.”

Shoving his chest again, I go all in, standing as close as I can manage without fear of retaliation. “I’m talking about the note in my room. I’m talking about Eden. Don’t act stup—”

Ding.

I step back to check my phone, only feeling more confused when I see the message.

“Seriously?”Skylar’s booming admonition forces me to look up from the screen. His arms are spread wide, taking an aggressive stance against me. “You’re the one who came out here and attacked me. Now you have more important things?”

Fair. I did attack him. “I just thought—”

“Thought what? What is your fucking issue?”

I won’t apologize, not when he never has for the way he talks to me. “Nothing. Nevermind, forget it.” When I spin on my heel to go back in, I’m yanked back painfully by the wrist. He’s holding me tightly enough to cut off my circulation. “Let go of me, asshole!”

He gives a sharp tug that sends me tripping forward, but his other arm catches me around the waist. Using the momentum of my fall, he spins me around until my back hits the same wall he was just standing against.

Both his hands are on me, the pain in my wrist so extreme, I’m starting to overheat from the intense need to get away.

The light touch of his hand on my waist is uncomfortable, far too gentle for the man in front of me. The smell of his cologne—laced with hints of bourbon and oak—is so heavy, it almost makes me choke.

He’s so close…too close.

“If you’re accusing me of something,” he starts, using his hold on my waist to shove me forcefully into the wall, “then I deserve to know what you think I did.”

His eyes radiate with their usual ire, but I can’t seem to care when there’s no room for me to breathe. I’m trapped between him and this wall with nobody around to stop him, and all I can do is stare. I watch his mouth while he talks, wondering if this is the first time I’ve ever stopped to notice how soft his lips look against the rough beard surrounding them.

I could do it. I could kiss him if he let me.

What would Broody think of that? He already let on that he’s a jealous man, even of his own friend. Is he still here watching me, or did he just leave the note and go back to whatever hole those men crawl from?

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