Page 71 of Prey Tell
It would end with every wall—every boundary I’d ever erected—crumbling down around me.
And that thoughtfuckingterrified me.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
THE ANTICIPATION
Juliet
I sleep like the dead. Better than I have in weeks, in fact. After Chase left to get some work done, I devoured my cake and then started to get drowsy. I’d fallen asleep within seconds of falling onto his lush mattress. Between my good night’s sleep and my nap, I wake up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. He’s not in the bedroom, nor did I hear him come in last night, so I decide to take a quick shower and wash my hair. When I walk into the bedroom, my phone chimes.Jackson.He must be up getting ready for work.
Just wanted to make sure you got to your hotel okay. How’s the conference?
Enlightening.
Helpful for your dissertation, I hope?
I roll my lower lip between my teeth as I contemplate my answer. I obviously can’t elaborate, but I also don’t want to lie to my brother. Still, I can’t outright tell him about all of this. Not without talking to Chase.
Of course. I’ll call you later, okay?
I’m busy tonight, but maybe we can talk tomorrow?
I smile. I secretly hope he’s going out with Mark. I wish I could ask him, but I don’t want to push. He’s my brother and my best friend. I know he’ll tell me if it turns serious.
Sure. Love you.
Yeah, yeah. Love you too, Jules.
A wave of guilt washes over me. Here I am in a skimpy towel, shacking up with his best friend behind his back, letting said friend do such unsavory things like spank and finger me…
I need to tell him. Not today, but soon. We don’t have secrets, and I’m not about to start keeping things from him.
I change into a pair of black jeans, a cropped, white tank top, and grab my denim jacket as well as my white sneakers. When I walk into the living area, Chase is sitting at the dining table with his laptop, sipping a cup of coffee.
An identical one sits at what I presume to be my place.
I sit across from him, but he doesn’t look up at me. I blush when I think of yesterday—of what he did to me on this table.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I mutter, taking a sip. “How’d you know that I like my coffee strong and bitter?” I ask, holding the cappuccino in my hands.
He glances at me over the rim of his screen. I see his dimples deepen, but he doesn’t quite smile.
“If you recall, I made it for you every morning of your senior year of high school.”
“And you assumed my order wouldn’t have changed over the last nine years?” I ask playfully.
He closes his laptop and steeples his hands as he studies me from across the table. His eyes scan over my face, my mouth, my exposed neck… I swallow audibly as he looks back into my eyes.
“You drink cappuccinos because you’re no-nonsense, Parker. You don’t have time for lattes—they’re too milky. And yes, there’s an extra shot in there, because I know you enjoy being over-caffeinated. It helps you think,” he adds, tapping the side of his head.
I open and close my mouth. I don’t think anyone has ever summarized me so succinctly.
“Well, I appreciate it.”
He pushes a plate I hadn’t seen before over to me, and I take in the eggs, bacon, and toast.
“You should eat. I want to go over a few things with you before we start.”
