Page 55 of A Convenient Secret
“Zach, between you and me, I’ll let you skip today’s practice. It would be our secret, but only if you promise to talk to your dad about this.”
He eyes me for a moment, and I can practically hear him thinking.
When he doesn’t respond, I continue. “I don’t know how your dad will feel about you quitting soccer, but I’m sure you can’t disappoint him. Ever.”
“I’m not so sure, but I’ll talk to him if you let me skip today.” He extends his hand to shake on it in a very adult way.
I take it and give it a serious shake, hoping that playing hooky at the soccer won’t get us both in trouble.
We get downstairs. Zoya waits for us, but I don’t see Declan anywhere.
“Ready?” I usher the kids to the elevator.
“Daddy said you’ll sleep hewe tonight.” Zoya skips around the car as we descend.
“Where is Dad going?” Zach asks.
“He has a date.” Zoya beams.
Motherfucker.
I drop the kids off and send the driver away. I need to walk off this energy. What the actualfuck? He cages me in the kitchen with his dirty declarations while he has a date tonight?
Not that I have any claims on him. He made it clear nothing would happen between us, but still, he can’t say he’s pining after me and then go on a date.
I’m so pissed, I march down the street like a mad woman. What an asshole. I’m so disappointed, I want to return to his house and tell him what I think about his stupid restraint.
One of us needs to be responsible.
Patronizing bastard. He wants me, he said. I should take some solace in that. At least my infatuation hasn’t been one-sided.
I don’t even know what I’m so pissed about.
It’s good he has a date. Isn’t it? He promised—no, he threatened—not to act on his attraction toward me, so he should move on. We both should.
But he hasn’t dated in years, so why now?
To hurt me? And he dared ask me to sleep over. Though if he is his usual self, that date is doomed anyway.
I pause.
Does he want me to hear him fucking another woman? Oh my God. What game is he playing?
Why did he even tell Zoya about having a date? If I know his daughter, he’ll be investigated thoroughly tomorrow.
Someone bumps into me, swearing. Our sweaty skins brush, and I shiver. Summer in New York can be really gross.
I enter a coffee shop and get myself an extra-large iced latte with double syrup, because I need to wrap my nerves in a bit of sugar. Or a lot, so I order a donut as well.
Deciding to enjoy the fridge-like conditions of the indoors, I find a seat and try to enjoy my sweetness overdose.
The kitchen scene keeps replaying in my mind. His words and his presence. The dominance when he spun me around. The burning touch when he forced me to look at him. His heaving chest. His rigid jawline. The scorching heat in his eyes.
The outline of his cock.
Yeah, I wouldn’t survive him. His aggressive behavior should have concerned me. Scared me. And it did, but in a thrilling way. What’s wrong with me?
His declaration should have quashed my lust. And it did the opposite. It aroused my curiosity, and ignited an even stronger yearning. Before, I thought I was the only one in this, but now I know he is just better at hiding his feelings.
