Page 52 of The Catalyst

I'm so beyond screwed.

CHAPTER 24

BETH

Idefinitely needed another shower after my trip to the market. I shouldn't have been as soaked as I was, but apparently, all I need to be ready to go is for Oliver Doyle to look at me as if we're the only two people in the world.

My pussy must be broken.

Judy would have me committed if she knew the unholy ways I want that man or the different fantasies I have where he is the main star.

What the hell would Nigel do if he knew?I shudder to think.

I pull on the raggedy t-shirt I've been sleeping in lately that falls just below my ass and make sure my panties are in place before leaving the room. The house is still silent as I walk down the stairs and head for the kitchen, but stop short when I see the one I should be avoiding like the plague. Not only is he in the kitchen, but he leans back against the counter without a fucking shirt, exposing miles of tight muscles and the most glorious canvas I've ever seen.

My heart races from my stomach to my throat over and over from the idea of having another conversation with him so soon. I've never been the nervous type, but since the first time I looked into his icy blues, he has instilled that in me repeatedly. Nervousness and fear doesn't stop me though.

"I didn't realize anyone was here," I say as I walk into the room and his eyes lift, a cigarette in his mouth.

He doesn't speak, but he watches every move I make like he always does. Oliver removes the smoke from his mouth and lets a stream of smoke leave his lips. It falls down his body and I barely manage to stop the shiver running through me to be shown.

I feel thirsty all of a sudden.

I pull open the fridge to grab the things I was planning to cook for dinner when he opens his mouth. "How long have you been fucking Martin?" His voice skates across the room to me and my head snaps around.

"What did you say?"

He raises a brow at me and a heavy weight settles in my stomach.

Shit. Hedidhear mine and Martin's conversation.

"How long?" he presses again.

I close the fridge back and push my hands down on the table, not allowing my gaze to waver at all from him. "I'm not, period. Next question."

"That's not what I heard you say at the market." He lifts his cigarette back to his lips.

"Then, you weren't listening closely enough. Eavesdropping is not your strong suit and neither is stalking."

He drops his cigarette in the empty sink without removing his gaze from me and he pushes himself away from the counter. "I wasn't eavesdropping and I'm not stalking you or Martin."

"Sure, you're not." I roll my eyes. "I don't believe in coincidences and you popping up while I was there seems a little suspicious." I actually do believe in coincidences, but not where he's concerned. Could he have been there to pick something up? Sure, but it's doubtful. He could've gotten food at any of the fast food establishments in the area.

He presses his hands against the table, mimicking my stance, but his expression remains unfazed, like it always does. I'm pretty sure this man still looks unbothered when he's screwing, which I would've known for sure if he hadn't bent me over the hood of his car when he split me from pussy to ass.

"I'm not stalking you. I was picking up an order my boss placed with the bakery for the receptionist's birthday, not that it's any of your business, princess."

I'm not so sure he's telling the truth, but not even his voice wavers at all. Maybe he is being honest. It's plausible, but I doubt it's true.

"Sure, you were and I'm Lady Tremaine."

His eyes narrow with irritation as his mouth sets in a thin line. "Don't jump around the subject. What were you and Martin talking about if not you screwing around on Nigel?"

I take a deep breath as he walks around the table before standing in front of me. I don't speak, even as he stares down at me intimidatingly.

"Well?" he presses.

"I'm not screwing around on Nigel, okay? Let's get that straight first. This was…before I moved to Grove Hill." I take a seat on the table as I push my wet hair out of my face and Oliver stands over me, waiting for me to continue. "Two weeks before I moved here, I went to a bar with some of my friends. They were moving out of state the next day and it was our big send off. I got really drunk and blacked out. The next morning I woke up in my bed. My friends told me I hooked up with a guy they'd never seen before in his car. The only evidence I had other than the jizz between my legs was a piece of paper with a phone number and some initials: M.G. I never cared to call the number, but I put it in my phone just in case I needed it."

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