AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sam is part of the team, Eve. So, yes, for Sam.”
She pauses for a few beats. “I didn’t realize PR work included being carted out of a bar while slung over one of the player’s shoulders.” Jealousy seeps across the phone line.
“Why don’t you say whatever it is you’re really wanting to say, Eve,” I huff out.
She’s quiet again for a few seconds as I brace myself for her words, knowing inherently they will be unkind. “Sam isn’t your type, Emerson. He’s way out of your league.”
“And who’s type is he, Eve? Yours?”
“Yes! He’s exactly my type. And I’m his.”
I’m his. The possession in her words bothers me more than it should. My sister doesn’t know Sam, not really. She doesn’t know who he is now. Maybe once upon a time he would’ve been a match for her, but not anymore.
“If that’s true than you would’ve been the one leaving the bar slung over his shoulder. Not me.”
My statement is met with complete silence that stretches. I can hear Eve breathing on the other end of the line. I imagine her holding the phone against her ear, her mouth gaping. I’ve never challenged my sister before, not over a man. Until now.
“Well, little sister,” she sneers, pure venom leaking from her tongue, “it should’ve been me. It’s only a matter of time before Sam gets bored. You may land a man like him, but you’ll never keep him.”
Her words sting even though I know they come from a place of hurt. Eve’s pride was wounded when Sam turned her down that night. And her caustic attitude has more to do with her than me. But right now, she’s piling onto a mountain of doubt that keeps building inside my head. And I can’t seem to stop it.
“It’s nice to know you have such a high opinion of me, Eve. I’ve gotta go.”
I end the call before she can say another word, feeling traumatized once again. Sisters aren’t supposed to be like this. We should be building each other up, not tearing one another down. But deep down I know it’s always been this way. Eve is a leech, sucking the blood from me until I’m exhausted and searching for strength. And it never seems to change.
I love my sister. I will always love her. I just don’t like her very much. And I feel myself drifting a little further away from the only family I have left.
Her words keep swirling through my mind though, reminding me that Sam has always been a fuckboy. It’s silly to be bothered by it. But then he went and touched me. He showed me how good it could be and left me wanting more.
Now, I’m wondering if Eve is right. Is it over between us before it began? I’m hit by a sudden stab of nausea as the knots in my throat tighten. Sam is not known for longevity. He’s not known for seeing the same woman twice. His interest dwindles quickly. He’s had me now, so will I lose whatever luster he saw in me recently? Will that shine just as suddenly become dull?
Because I care. I care so much. I’ve never been in this position before. I’m not someone who takes sex lightly, a one-and-done kind of girl. I’m just the crazy girl who leaps before she looks.
I guess part of me is waiting for him to mess up and crush me in the process. It isn’t fair, but that’s where my mind is going. It’s a survival technique, I think. A way to brace myself for the possibility. But the problem is, I don’t think anything could fully prepare me for it. If it happens, it’s going to hurt either way.
There’s a rumble of thunder in the distance. I rinse my brush in a jar of water and pick up my phone again to check the weather radar, hoping it distracts me from the unease settled deep within my stomach. Apparently, there’s a severe storm warning blowing in from the west. I’ve lived in the middle of the country my whole life. Severe storms are so common that they don’t scare me anymore.
I start to toss my cell back down when the voice mails I received earlier catch my eye. I linger on them. I have two messages that were left today from art galleries interested in speaking with me. One is here in Chicago, and the other is in New York City. They both called out of the blue. I hadn’t recognized the numbers, so I hadn’t answered. I was shocked when I listened to them and curious about the sudden interest in my art. Maybe it had something to do with the silent auction? I don’t even know who bought my paintings, only that they sold for much more than I’d anticipated. And I won’t know the intent of the galleries until I return their calls. I plan to research both on the web and see if they’re legit first.
My head whips to the side when I hear the front door slam closed. But instead of feeling relief, my anxiety rises. I lift my brush again and pretend to study the canvas in front of me. I feel his presence before I ever see him.
Sam’s broad frame slips into the doorway. From the corner of my eye, I see that his tie is loosened around his neck. His jacket is slung over one shoulder, just like when he walked the runway during the charity event. And his sleeves are rolled up, showcasing strong, muscular forearms. He looks sexy as hell.
“That’s nice,” he comments, leaning casually against the doorframe as he studies my latest creation.
“Thanks.” I glance over, barely looking at him before pulling my attention back to the canvas.
Sam straightens and walks closer, draping his jacket over my desk chair. “The wind is really picking up. Looks like a storm is brewing.”
I can hear the whistle of the wind as it increases in ferocity outside of the windows. But I’m wondering if Sam is referring to the elements outside or the chaos stirring inside my head right now.
“Oh, yeah?” I say distractedly, pretending to be engrossed in the painting while acting indifferent about where he was tonight. I add a few strokes of paint, then start mixing a new shade of green on my palette.
Sam steps behind me. I tense.
“Now, you know this shirt drives me out of my mind.” He’s close. His breath breezes across the back of my neck. He drags his fingertip from my ear all the way to my shoulder, where my old painting shirt has slipped down my upper arm. He passes over the thick silver chain that hangs between my breasts, hidden by the shirt he loves so much.
I close my eyes when his lips land on the nape of my neck next.
