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But I especially don’t have any experience with men like Mr. Rowe.
Clutching my knees, I cross my legs and I wish he would open the windows because he seems to be spiking the air with his testosterone and I wish I knew how to control myself around him.
“Drinks?” Mr. Rowe asks.
My eyes flare and I look at him in shock. “I’m only nineteen. I’m not allowed.”
He raises his brows. “You don’t always have to do as you’re told. And I can keep a secret.” Pouring wine into a glass, he hands it to me and I don’t want to say no. I would look so childish and I take a careful sip. To my surprise it actually tastes pretty good, not too strong.
I take another sip. “If Miss. Pattie saw me right now she’d probably yell for her smelling salts.”
“Because you’re such a good girl?” Mr. Rowe says in a low, challenging voice and I flush, nodding and then shake my head because I don’t know how to respond. He pours himself his own drink and then to my nervousness, he sits down next to me. He’s too big and he’s already taking up enough space inside of me. I don’t need him to do that on the outside too.
Pretending to be interested in some of the decorative objects that I’ve already seen a dozen times before, I take more sips and I can feel his gaze burning me. Previously that would have made me want to run but now the alcohol is mellowing me down.
But still his eyes feel like strokes on my body. He’s stroking me everywhere, parts where nobody ever touches me and he makes them his. How can he do that just by looking at me? And why is he so purposefully trying to make me fall for him?
This is risky and what if I cross a line...I should leave...
“Stay.”
Flinching, I look at Mr. Rowe and he’s silent and lethal but something about him is familiar too. Like I have heard his voice in my old dreams.
“Why? Can I really trust you?”
“No,” he says slowly, “but you can trust me more than the people you call your family.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” I fidget and his response is more than sharp.
“You don’t belong with them.”
His words make me flustered because I know they’re true and I whisper, “Stop.” Crossing my arms, I walk over to the windows and its practically flooding outside and close my eyes for a second to prevent myself from throwing my arms around his neck. Mr. Rowe clears his throat.
“If I have somehow offended you, then I take it back. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“Well...consider me upset,” I pout. “And I already know you don’t have good intentions.”
“Do you then? Then tell me what my intentions are and why you don’t like them.”
I can’t spell it out for him. If I’m wrong then I’ll be so ashamed that I’ll never be able to look him in the eyes again and if I’m right, then...I’m right. Which is just as bad.
Licking my lips I murmur, “Mr. Rowe? Please promise me that no harm will come to any of the Bryce’s?”
A muscle ticks in his jaw as he leans forward. “All of them?”
“Yes, all of them,” I say rapidly.
There’s a moments pause and I stop breathing. Mr. Rowe leans back. “I cannot promise you that.”
Gasping, I stare at him with flaring eyes. “Why?”
“Because...” his eyes flash, “if anyone stands in my way then they will see a side of me they won’t like. It’s a side a little less...decent.”
“But what if it’s me?” I breathe, putting a hand on my chest. “What if I stand in your way?”
His eyes darken. “I strongly suggest you don’t do that, dove. Lest you want me to clip your wings.”
I drop my glass, the dark liquid smearing the carpet and my feathers ruffle. “I’m...I’m sorry, think I’d better go...”
