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I had just had her, yet it wasn’t enough, and while it made me excited, I didn't like feeling so unhinged and unsure of my complete control over myself. However, for instance, this shower was supposed to be a quick one, but then here I was, stroking myself and thinking of her.
I wanted to stop right then, willed myself to stop; however, the pleasure felt unreal. I could almost feel once again the tight grip of her walls around me, and it pulled a ragged groan from my throat. My grip tightened then, and quicker, as I fantasized about her, my eyes closed, imagining her in front of me. She was so gorgeous and beautiful, very apparent, not wealthy, but there was a grace about her that couldn’t be replicated or explained in any way.
“Focus,” the hoarse cry followed as I quickly reached the brink, and then I was spurting out onto my hands and the glistening tiled wall before me.
It took me a while to recover from this, mostly because I couldn’t stop imagining what it had felt like to kiss her the moment I came. There were very few moments in my lifetime thus far that I had labeled as perfect, but that one with her had made the list. So, as I washed myself up, I had to admit to myself that I couldn’t wait to see her again.
In short, I was buzzing with excitement for it, and since, for once, I had time, my next game plan was to ensure that she found it impossible to deny herself and refuse me once again.
Chapter Eighteen
Evelyn
"I think I'm going to leave tonight," I told Anna as I sifted through the clothes that I had hung in the closet.
"What? So soon? Why?" she asked.
I sighed, contemplating her question as I listened to the clanging of pots and her chopping things in the kitchen. I couldn't help but wish I was there with her, in this moment, safe and clear-headed, not tormented by anxiety and regret.
I didn't regret my time with him. How could I? It was amazing. However, I regretted that I han’t controlled myself better. I felt as though I had lost something, suspecting that I might never find out what it was, was troubling to say the least.
"I spent money on clothes," I told Anna, opting for the politically correct answer. "Yet I still don't think I fit in. Every time I meet someone new, I feel as though they're looking down at me, wondering about what the hell I am wearing."
"Oh my God," she said. "That can't be right. Maybe you're reading too much into it?"
I was definitely reading too much into it. Under normal circumstances, none of this would have bothered me. I was there to do a job I was grateful for, caring deeply for it, so who the hell cared what anyone thought about me? The truth was that I was running... from what I had started, from myself.
I had boldly told Drake that I didn't want anything to happen again, yet I couldn't get him off my mind for even a moment. I should have been worried about us being caught for being too passionate in the library, yet I was concerned about how I would keep myself from jumping him the next time I saw him.
"I'm not reading too much into it," I told her. "I just... I was right to stick to smaller weddings."
"You mean a lower circle?" she said, and I immediately began to take offense. I didn't respond, hoping she would move on to other topics, but she wouldn't let me.
"I would never have pegged you for this kind of person, Anna," I said, and my heart dropped into my stomach.
"Let's talk about something else," I said, but she refused.
"Evelyn," she said. "Are you trying to self-sabotage yourself? Is this what's happening here?"
I sighed and pulled out three outfits for the dinner ahead, still considering whether to attend or not. I laid them down on the bed, momentarily considering ending the call. However, I knew she would haunt me until I picked up again, or she wouldn't care and not bother to call back, leaving me in a state of confusion and fear.
"I've always been sure that passion and interest are what keep you playing small, but now?—"
"I wasn't playing small," I complained, but she wasn't buying it.
"If you weren't playing small, then what are you doing now, trying to run away from the first big thing you've been involved in since you started? Come to think of it, you've always said you didn't like big projects, but why? Because they were too polished? Too fancy? That makes no sense. I mean, you could have made it as rustic as you wanted. Rustic doesn't mean poor or small; it?—"
"I slept with Drake," I said, interrupting her, needing her barrage of comments to come to an end.
Whether it was because I didn't want to hear what she was saying or because they were true and I needed an immediate solution, I couldn't tell. What I did get, though, was a long minute of silence, which we both needed and appreciated.
"That's, um..." she eventually found her voice. "You just got there, didn't you? A few hours ago?"
"That's your strategy? To slut-shame me?"
She was amused.
"What's yours? I mean, when did this even happen? How? I thought you two were mortal enemies. You did that within just a few minutes of seeing him again?"
