Page 67 of Total Exposure

And then… I hold my breath.

There he is. Sitting on the bench next to the flowering orange bush, one foot propped up on one knee, wearing a dark suit. Winter coat splayed out behind his shoulders like he shrugged it off as he sat down. His coffee must be empty—am I late? Did I take too long?—because it’s sitting on the ground next to him.

There’s a few children playing nearby, but he ignores them as he stares at the flora around him. Like he has a deep appreciation for plants.

I chuckle at that, which makes him look up and meet my gaze.

Shit.

I avert my eyes, but not before I get a good look at his. Blue. Piercing blue. The kind of blue that stabs you in the gut with their beauty.

I wait a few moments before looking down again, and when I do, he’s walking down a path, deeper into the gardens.

I rush along the railing, trying to follow him. One look? No. One look is not enough to make up for all the panic that came with this trip.

I come to a set of stairs just as he disappears from view. I want to jump down those stairs, but there’s people in the way, and I’m too afraid to push past, so by the time I get to the bottom and find the path he went down, he’s gone.

No!

This is not how my first watching experience is gonna end. It doesn’t even count!

I look around, wondering if X is watching me, wondering if I should go home now.

That thought is so depressing, I can’t even consider it. So I just… stay. I walk slowly along the many pathways, my eyes desperate to find this Jordan man again. Oblivious to the bustling people around me. Tuning out the too-loud children with pent-up winter energy. Forgetting myself and concentrating only on the man who got away.

He was striking.

So handsome… my heart actually aches at the missed opportunity.

Chapter Twenty-Two - Ixion

Evangeline returns home a little after two. Which surprises me. I didn’t figure she’d stay so long. In fact, I counted on her bolting out of there at her first opportunity.

This twist intrigues me.

Is she so enamored with Jordan Wells that she can put aside her ridiculous phobia and face her fears?

Why?

Was it the suit? Does she like powerful men in suits? Men with money? Driven men who grab the world by the balls and never let go? Liars? Cheaters? Sick fucks who watch people?

I ponder that and wonder how people see me when I’m just being me.

Do they see the biker with leathers on the road going nowhere? Do they see the guy in the dead-end bar in the middle of BFE buying whole bottles instead of shots? Do they see the exiled fuckup who disappointed everyone and never got his second chance because…

What do they see?

I don’t think I want to know the answer to that question.

I watch Evangeline on the screen as she fumbles with her outer clothes, tearing them off and throwing them onto random pieces of furniture as she makes her way to the kitchen where the notebook’s waiting for her.

“No,” she says, looking directly into the camera, her eyes wide, her voice shrill, and her… anger spilling out like water rushing from a dam that’s overfull and ready to burst. “That wasn’t even watching!” she screams, so loud I draw back from the monitor, surprised. “He left after five seconds! No!”

She picks up an empty vase on the kitchen counter and throws it at the wall, shattering the glass into a million shards.

I get up, ready to go out there and ask her just what the fuck she’s doing. But I take a deep breath instead, push the button on the intercom, and say, “Clean it up.”

“Fuck you!” she yells, opening a cupboard, grabbing a coffee mug, and throwing it at the same wall that is now marred with the impact of two things.