Page 97 of Van Cort
“Everett, hi.” I smile, opening the door just enough to talk to him through.
“Any reason the door is closed on me?”
Okay, straight to it then. April will kill me if I let him in and introduce him to her like this. “Err, no. Just not right now. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.” I smile again and try to limit the blow but know he’s not pleased.
“Clearly.” He looks at my comfy robe and bare feet. “When can you be ready?”
“Ready? I’m sorry, I thought I told you I was busy.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Busy all weekend?” He checks, as if he doesn’t understand what I am saying.
I watch his brows knitting together as he takes a step back. It puts me straight into a defensive position, the need to justifymy answer desperate to spill from my mouth. “Yes. You didn’t ask last night, but I have plans this weekend. Just because they aren’t with you, doesn’t mean I don’t have them with someone else.” My eyes hold his green gaze, and I will myself to stand strong. After everything we shared at his family home, he should be able to trust me.
I watch as the sharp edges and hard exterior slip back over him like a shield. He’s the replica of the man I first met, the man who thought he could sleep with me and then leave, complete with a tensed jaw, like he’s trying not to speak the words he wants to say.
“Someone else.” His voice is smooth and enticing, daring me to challenge him. I remember his command when we arrived at the mansion – to do everything he asked. Does he think that extends here?
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell me who?”
It would be easy to tell him April is sleeping down the hall and will be here until Sunday, but his automatic assumption has made me mad.
“I’m spending some time with a friend, and you don’t get to dictate every second of my life, even if you might try.” My feet dig into the floor, and I grip the edge of the door as if I can physically hold my ground. I can see he’s uncomfortable, so am I, but we could be open and honest while on his terms. These are mine. And he doesn’t get to rule over me like this.
I think about the conversation we had in the town, how the idea of vows crept into the conversation. Would he expect honour and obedience to be in those vows? Does compatibility for him mean doing as I’m told?
“You wanted compatibility, Everett. You shared with me, let me see behind whatever mask you show the rest of the world. Doyou really think so little of me to assume that as soon as we’re back, I’d be off with another man?”
“That isn’t what I’m suggesting.”
“Then give me the benefit of your trust and I’ll see you after the weekend.”
The look on his face threatens a reaction akin to rage, but he doesn’t say anything. He steps back again and then turns, heading straight to the car parked on the curb.
My stomach knots with guilt, but it’s a stupid response. We weren’t even serious until going away, and now he wants to monopolise my time? It’s like it’s all or nothing with him.
No.
I’ve done the right thing.
Stood up to him.
I second-guess the decision all the way through making coffee.
“Who was at the door?” April doesn’t lift her head from the pillow as I come back to the room with our morning caffeine hit.
“One guess.”
She’s sitting up, her face aghast at my response. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I don’t know if it’s sweet or overbearing and controlling.” She doesn’t need to know that it’s all of the latter two.
“After everything you’ve told me about Everett Van Cort, sweet would never enter my mind.”
Her words hit, and I run my mind over everything I know of Everett. She’s right, sweet isn’t the first one that he conjures. Sharp, handsome, smart, but there’s more. Another side to him. A fun side. One that lets me in behind what he shows the rest of the world.
But maybe it goes deeper than that. Maybe he’s not comfortable being vulnerable or open with anyone at first and keeps his true self hidden away.
