17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Mia

My head is pounding. I roll over in my bed where Layla and I both ended up passing out last night. I told her how I’m not sleeping too well on my own lately, so she agreed to spend the night with me.

Despite the pounding in my head, my brain brings me right back to the moment at the bottom of the stairs with Eric last night. It was like a punch to the gut. I didn’t see it coming. Here I thought we were finally letting go and enjoying each other’s company. We literally just had sex the night before and he already called it off not even twenty-four hours later.

What does that say about me? Is that all I’m worth to him—to all men?

Aside from my psychotic ex who wants to control me, all the men I’ve been with have found very little reason to stay with me. I want what my brothers have with their wives. I want someone who will fight like hell to be with me. To stand up to the world and tell them that I’m the one they love.

But my brothers were morons at first. It always took some convincing on my part to make them see the light and chase after the women they love. Who’s going to be there to convince a man to do that for me?

More importantly, why would someone need convincing?

“Ugh, my throat is so dry,” Layla whines next to me.

At least I have her here to distract me from her idiot brother. Maybe I can ask her some questions about him. Find out more about why he’s so afraid of commitment.

“I think that’s a wine hangover,” I croak. “Did we drink any water with dinner last night?”

“Is there water in wine?” she asks.

I chuckle slightly. “Yes, I think there is.”

“Then yes, we drank water, but I need real water right now.”

We somehow manage to drag ourselves out of bed and downstairs. I catch a glimpse of Eric in his office but have no interest in saying anything to him. Maybe it’s the wine hangover, but I’m feeling pissed at the world right now.

“I think we should order breakfast,” Layla suggests in the kitchen as we both gulp down water like we’ve been lost in the desert. “We could have biscuits and gravy, pancakes, cheesy grits.”

“Mmm, I think I’d like some biscuits and gravy.”

“Biscuits and gravy it is.”

An hour later, we are curled up on the lounge chairs by the pool in our sweatshirts as we devour our breakfast. With the food in my system, the sunlight, and the slightly cool breeze—I’m starting to feel slightly better.

“So, how is the wedding planning going?” I ask over a big bite of my biscuit.

“It’s going. My mom is starting to get a little obsessed. She keeps going on and on about how I’m her only daughter and this is the only time she’ll get to experience what it’s like to see me try on a dress for the first time.”

I smile. “That’s sweet. I’m glad you and your mom are doing so much better. Have you tried any dresses on yet?”

“No. Oh, come with me!” she exclaims excitedly.

“What? Me?” I ask, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“Of course! We are going to go next weekend. It would be so much fun!” she smiles brightly.

“That’s so sweet of you to ask.” I love Layla, but it’s not like we’ve been able to spend a ton of time together with the distance between us. This feels like a lot for me to be a part of such an intimate event.

“It’s settled. You are coming. That way if my mom has some god-awful taste, you can step in and be the tie breaker.”

Later that night we are snuggled up on the couch about to watch a scary movie. Layla wants to get in the Halloween spirit. Eric walks in from outside, looking a little rough around the edges. It looks like he has saw dust on him.

“Where were you? What is all over you?” she asks absentmindedly, clicking through movie options.

His eyes meet mine. “I was just going for a walk and some of the moss from the trees fell all over me.”

“Huh, weird,” she says, barely listening. “Go get cleaned up and watch a movie with us.”

“I’m not really in the mood.”

“Come on. We never get to do these things with each other anymore. Pleeeease.”

He rolls his eyes while his head falls back. “Fine. I’ll be right back.”

He’s always acting annoyed by his family, but for a man who claims to want to be alone he gives in awfully quickly.

When he comes back downstairs, he’s in black sweatpants and a white t-shirt. My body suddenly feels hot as my heart starts to pound against my chest. I despise this reaction my body has to him.

The way he touched me the other night. No man has ever fucked me like he did. But I was a fool to think that there was something different about him.

He sits on the chair diagonal from the couch that Layla and I are on. I do my best to get into the movie, but I’m too aware of his presence. Every time I steal a glance at him, his eyes are on me. He’s not even trying to hide the fact that he’s watching me.

I try my best to ignore him, but somewhere in the middle of the movie my eyes find him again. That’s it. I’m not going to look at him again for the rest of the movie.

Only my eyes disobey me. Even when I tell them don’t look, they do. The last time I looked, I saw the beginning of a smirk play on his lips before he remembered he’s a dick, then he was back to acting broody and sad.

“What the hell? Why would they go further inside? It’s clearly a setup. Why is it always the women they make do the idiotic things in scary movies? It’s so insulting,” Layla says while throwing her hands in the air. “My niece could make smarter decisions than them and she’s five.”

Layla manages to break the tension that was building. Enough for me to at least get back into the movie with her. We pop some popcorn and make fun of the decisions of the characters for the remainder of the movie.

Eric remains quiet, though Layla doesn’t seem to think that is cause for concern. Once the movie is over, he stands up.

“I’m going to try and get some extra sleep. It’s my last night before I go back into work.”

“You have to go to work on Monday?” Layla asks sadly. “Boo, that sucks. Who will keep Mia company?”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I don’t like being pitied.

Eric looks at me then back to his sister. “Mia is a strong woman. I think she’ll appreciate me out of the house during the day. She can do whatever she wants here.”

“Do you feel safe enough?” Layla continues. “I can try to take some time off at work.”

“That’s not necessary,” Eric interjects. “I have surveillance all over the house. I will be monitoring it while I’m away. I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“Monitoring it?” I interject. “Like spying on me? Where are these cameras? They aren’t in my room, are they?”

His eyes dance with mischief. “Why? Doing anything in there you don’t want me to see?”

“Eeww! Gross. Get out of here,” Layla cringes.

Eric looks amused as he walks away from us. He still didn’t answer my question. Where are all of these cameras? And why does he still care so much about my safety if he only wants us to be platonic with each other?