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Chapter Fourteen
Evangeline
The front door closes behind me, and for a second, my heart drops to the bottom of my stomach. I wait for Frederic’s loud voice to scream my name. But the longer I stare at the empty hallway, the more my nerves settle, and I’m relieved that Frederic is nowhere to be seen.
The big bad wolf isn’t going to descend the stairs in a hurry to give me an earful. If he had any idea that I went out, he would have been waiting on a chair in the middle of the hallway.
But still, I slip my heels from my feet and carefully put them next to the door. I tiptoe up the stairs, too afraid to wake up Frederic if he’s still at home. Maybe I can get a few hours of sleep before all hell breaks loose. I don’t think I’m up for someone screaming at me right now because my headache seems to be getting steadily worse the longer I’m awake.
I turn right and make a beeline for my bedroom, but damn this old house and its creaking wooden floors. I imagine my brother waking up from hearing my attempts at not stepping on the ones that could wake up the neighbours.
I finally reach my bedroom door, and with a gentle touch, close it behind me. My shoulders slump before I finally take in a full breath.
Mission accomplished.
I unclasp the collar at the top of my dress before I slither out of it, leaving me in nothing but my white strapless bra and lace underwear. It feels good to let my skin breathe, and with exhausting steps, I walk to my four-poster bed before falling onto the mattress.
A loud sigh leaves me when I sink into it. I crawl under my white comforter, feeling its warmth straight away.
My eyelids feel heavy, and the pounding behind my eyes makes me want nothing more than to close them and sleep the day away. I’ll need those hours to recover from a night out with Topper.
But before I close my eyes, my attention drifts to my alarm clock, showing just how early it is, and without me knowing, my eyes quickly snap to my window.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, but my curiosity is waking up already and I’ve never been able to stop myself once I have my eyes set on Chester’s house this early. I blink repeatedly, hoping to focus my attention on anything but what may or may not be happening outside that window. But instead, my body perks up, and I lean forward to see if I can catch a glimpse.
“Nope. Not happening,” I turn my head to my door, depriving myself of the need to investigate, but it doesn’t take long before I’m back staring at the same window. I bite my lip, wondering if I should give in to my desire to just take a look.
Just one look.
What are the chances of him stepping out of his house at the exact same time? They must be slim to none. I push myself off my bed before I sneak to my window that has a great vantage point of Chester’s house.
An increase in my heartbeat makes me drop my hand on my chest. I’m nervous. I’ve never been more anxious about spying on my neighbour. I close the distance between my bed and the window.
I creep toward it before I dare to take a look. A loud sigh leaves me, and my shoulders drop from relief: he’s not there.
“Of course, he’s not there, Evangeline.” I scrunch my face and a part of me is disappointed. I wanted to catch another glimpse of the man who crashed my night out for a few minutes, but maybe it’s a good thing he’s not leaving his house. Chester Boyd has been way too present in my life, and I’m not supposed to keep spying on my neighbour’s private moments. It’s weird and definitely wrong.
But the moment I turn around, I catch a door opening from the corner of my eye, and with the speed of a ninja, I pivot to face the window. I smash my knee against the wall in my hastiness, moaning for a second, and I rub my hand over it as I watch Chester leave his house.
His large hand is resting on the small of some tall woman’s back. Her blonde hair shimmers under the bright morning sun. She’s wearing a short black cocktail dress. I straighten my back to take a better look.
My heart skips for a second, and I’m not sure what to feel. A part of me is excited to witness such a display of passion, but there’s a feeling in my gut that starts to twist and turn and wishes for him to just escort her to a taxi. But I don’t dare to accept that tiny bit of jealousy I’m feeling because such things cannot be tied to Chester. It means that he has grown on me and that will not do.
I haven’t looked at Chester’s morning routine for a while now because I was too focused on the real Chester and not the man from my imagination. A man who is attentive, passionate, but most importantly, a complete stranger. But now, I can’t help but feel the need to watch, even when the feeling in my gut only grows more prominent. Yet this time, I don’t see the man of my imagination, but Chester himself.
The two stop when they reach the pavement. The tall woman turns around to face Chester, and I swallow loudly because I’m far too curious to see what’s going to happen next. I’m excited to witness something dirty happening on the streets at this hour, but when I see him smile so brightly at her, that feeling in the pit of my stomach explodes all through my body.
Maybe I don’t want to witnessChesterkissing a woman. I want the stranger, but I cannot turn my head when it’s still Chester standing in front of his door, rather than a random man. I’m sucked into the scene anyway.
The woman raises her hand before she drags it through Chester’s hair. That beautiful wild hair must feel soft. Her action makes Chester move a step closer, and I slowly take in what he’s wearing. A pair of black sweats hang low on his hips, and a dark sweater covers his upper body. Even in the morning, he looks absolutely gorgeous, laid back, but handsome nonetheless.
“He does not look gorgeous, Evangeline.” I wince at how obvious my lie is.
Chester moves his hand over the woman’s spine. He reaches for her long hair, twirling it around while his mouth moves. I wish I could hear his low voice whispering what he told me last night.
My own hand grasps my hair, playing with the end of my messy ponytail, as if I’m the woman standing in front of him. With a soft touch, his fingers drag back over her spine before they reach her bottom.
My body grows hot while I watch Chester cup her butt tightly. A flush spreads over my neck and cheeks with what I’m doing. I’ve never thought voyeurism would be part of my day, but here I am, and even though it’s wrong, I cannot look away.
