Page 41 of Like a Hurricane

Being around Everett Avery was kind of like getting whiplash. It wasn’t hot and cold; it was kind and gentle to crazy and unhinged. The lines between the two versions were becoming incredibly blurred.

“You said you pity me,” Everett says, bringing me from my thoughts, “What is it you pity?”

I turn between his legs and cross my own, watching as he leans back on the couch, his knees spread as I continue to sit between them.

“That instead of enjoying life, you steal it instead.”

One side of his mouth cocks up into a semblance of a smirk, “And you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you pity yourself?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you may not steal life, but do you enjoy it?”

“I have –had,”I correct, “a wonderful life.”

He quirks a brow in disbelief, “Tell me something good then.”

“About my life?”

Slowly, he leans forward, and I force myself to remain still. Nerves flitter through my body at his proximity, the way my body reacts to him, despite the circumstances, is something that still confuses me.

His finger curls beneath my chin, “Yes, little storm, something good in your life. Something you truly enjoy that no one else knows.”

His eyes bounce around my face as if committing every one of my features to memory. He looks at me like I’m something to worship.

“Sundays.” I breathe.

“Sundays,” He repeats.

“They are sacred.” I tell him, “A day for me. A day for me to do whatever I want. Read a book. Have a glass of wine. Walk in the park.”

“Why Sundays to do these things?” He enquires, genuinely curious.

“Because Monday through Saturday I belong to everyone else. Magazines, my father, the hotel.”

“And your lingerie boutique?”

“That doesn’t feel like a job,” I sigh, “I enjoy creating and distributing for every type of woman. I don’t do it for the partners. We as a society assume women wearing lingerie is for someone else, for husbands and boyfriends, for girlfriends and wives but I wanted to create something that made people feel good, for them and them only. It is my brand. To create something for the body to makeyoufeel good and not anyone else. If someone chooses to share it with their partner then fine, but when I wear lingerie, I do it for myself. I don’t much care if another person sees it.”

“So not just Sundays.”

“I guess not just Sundays, but I don’t have enough time for it anymore.” I admit.

“What books do you read?” He changes the subject but the look on his face suggests it’s not a topic we will be forgetting.

My cheeks heat, “I like romance.”

Everett smiles wide, “Yeah? What kind of romance, princess?”

“All of them. I just like the burn it all to the ground for her kind of romance. When nothing and no one compares.” My voice takes on a wistful kind of lilt. “It’s a type of love that doesn’t exist outside of books, no one is that devoted.”

“Is that your expert opinion?”

“It’s fact,” I shrug, “I’ve never once seen the type of love in the books I read.”

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