Page 29 of Oblivion

“It never bothered you when Sebastian sent the jet for you when it was Hunter’s wedding.” Evan points out.

“Well, that wasn’t planned. Sebastian just told me I was traveling on the jet.”

“So, you need to have your travel plans controlled. I’m happy to control you in any way you need.” His eyes narrow in sinister delight. “This weekend, you and Drew will be traveling on my dad’s jet back to Kingsacre so you can introduce your fiancé toyour friends. There, is that better? Now, you haven’t planned to use the jet. The plans have been made for you.”

“I think Drew has a prior engagement,” I say, unsure why I’m fighting this so hard. At some point, I will have to introduce Drew to the people I’ve spent the last year with. I’ll have to admit who they are and who their families are. I’ll have to explain that my seven closest friends are three married couples and the man I’ve been lusting after since the moment we met.

Unless, of course, I cut them all out of my life. That’s what Drew wants. He said as much when I mentioned going to California to collect my things. He suggested that I leave that part of my life behind, leave the friends I made behind. But can I do that? Can I accept that the only friends I’ll have will be carefully curated acquaintances? That the women I lunch with, socialize with, raise our children with, will be selected simply because of their positions and backgrounds and not because I have any kind of connection with them.

The thought of never having a drunken girls’ night ever again makes me feel bereft. I was Samantha of Drew and Samantha all through high school. I didn’t have a single friend who wasn’t Drew and Samantha’s friend until I met Starling. She’s the first friend I’ve ever had that’s just mine and not his, and I don’t want to lose her, but I don’t want to share her either. I don’t want her to meet Samantha, of Drew and Samantha, because she knows the real me, and she won’t recognize the person I am when I’m with him because I barely recognize myself.

My head’s shaking as I look at him. “I don’t think bringing him to California is a good idea,” I croak out.

“Okay, they can all come here. I’ll text Sebastian now.”

“No,” I shriek, slapping his cell out of his hand and hearing it hit the floor with a thud.

“You don’t want to introduce us to him?” Evan asks slowly, not even glancing toward his cell on the ground.

“It’s not that.” I try to protest.

“You don’t want to introducehimto us,” Evan surmises. “Are you ashamed of us, Wild One? Are you worried Drew will become one of us and suddenly want to put a tracker in his first lady’s neck?”

His tone has become taunting, and I inhale, straightening my shoulders as I face him down. “Drew isn’t like that.”

“That’s a shame. I bet you’d love to know he’s watching your every move. You’d get so fucking wet if he was monitoring your every step so he could blackmail you to keep you in line, wouldn’t you?”

I shake my head and make a sound that should have been a disgusted scoff but instead comes out more like a whine of need.

“Do you want Drew to claim you, Sammy? Do you want him to permanently attach this ring to your finger so it’d rip away the skin if you tried to take it off? Do you wish you were sleeping in his bed, pinned beneath his arm so he’d know exactly where you are at all times? Do you wish he was pumping you with his cum until you were full of his kid and tied to him forever? Do you wish he claimed you so overtly that you were wearing his name all over your body for everyone to see?”

His words force me from the trance he’d lulled me into.

“What did you say?” I ask.

“Which part?” he questions, leaning back, his smile wide and smug and daring me to ask him to repeat the words we both just heard him say.

“Forget it. Drew and I have plans this weekend. Maybe we can organize a get-together closer to spring break,” I say coldly.

“Huh.” He shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Are you living here now? Are you going to Harvard?”

“No,” he says, not giving me any information.

“So, when do you leave?”

“When I get what I came for,” he answers vaguely.

“I should go. I have class in the morning.”

Nodding, he crosses his arms over his chest and smirks. “Sweet dreams, Wild One.”

Handing him the now empty bottle of wine cooler that I don’t remember drinking, I turn around and leave, locking the door to my new house behind me as I let out a shaky breath.

16

EVAN

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