Not only do I have a library attached, which Octavius had built into the adjoining room for me, but I also have my own bathroom. Brody and Keirin each have their own wings in the house as well, which gives us each quiet when we need it—privacy away from the others. Also, each brother has his own personal space. A room which fits their hobbies—Brody’s is his music room, and Keirin has his fighting room complete with swords and gear for fencing. I’ve always been a bookworm, wanting to delve into the minds of authors, wanting to learn their deepest, darkest secrets.
“Why a library?” Micaela suddenly asks, drawing my attention back to the here and now. Back to the room where she’s holding the clothing I know Mallory brought for her to change into.
“It’s my solace,” I tell her honestly. “Books have a way of transporting you to other worlds. Whether they’re light or dark, each book has a piece of the author within the pages.”
“As if they’ve bled the words,” Micaela finishes my thought with a smile, once again dragging my attention to her. “I love English Lit; that’s what I’m studying,” she informs me. “Books and words have always been a passion of mine as well.”
“My own fair Belle.” I smile. A blush blooms on her cheeks, and she dips her head, her focus on the clothes in her hands instead of me. And I find I miss those pretty eyes penetrating my defenses. “Don’t worry about staying here. You will have as much privacy as if you were at your apartment.”
She lifts her gaze to mine. “I’m not some inexperienced girl,” she tells me. “I’m just nervous about what my father wants from me.”
“Look,” I tell her. “I do bad shit. I’ve never wanted or needed someone to like or to approve of me. And make no mistake I won’t apologize for it. You’ll never find me doing something because someone expects it of me, but when I saw you, I figured, why the hell not?”
Micaela rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but laugh. “You’re quite the romantic.” Her insolence makes my hand twitch. I want nothing more than to show her just how romantic I can be.
“I am. When you find me in the right frame of mind,” I tell her. “Go shower. If you feel like talking afterward, I’ll be in the library. The door over there,” I say, pointing to the entry in question at the corner of the bedroom, almost hidden in shadows, “will bring you to me. If you decide to go straight to sleep, I understand.”
As much as I want to spend the night in my bedroom with this beautiful woman, she’s not ready. And if I continue to stay in here, she won’t be wearing that sinful dress for much longer either.
I turn and leave, shoving open the door and shutting it behind me. In the library, I make my way to the liquor cabinet to find a new bottle of alcohol to pour myself a steep shot of bourbon. I left my open bottle in the fucking room, but I’m not going back in there now.
Grabbing the book I’d been reading, I settle on the sofa and flick it open. My eyes scan the words, but I can’t focus. She’s on my mind, and I doubt I’m going to get a moment’s peaceful sleep now because all I can think of is a naked Micaela in my bathroom.
I’m three drinks in when the door slides open, and I hear her footfalls padding across the cool wooden flooring. When she reaches the armchair, which overlooks the sofa where I’m sitting, she settles. Micaela looks at me for a while before she pulls her feet up and curls into the soft, velvety cushions.
“You came,” I observe with a smile, before setting my book down. I wasn’t reading it anyway. Nothing I looked over stayed in mind.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” she says. “While I had a shower, I thought about this situation.”
“You thought about me while in the shower?” Quirking a brow at her, I grin when she rolls her eyes. “Sorry. Keep going.”
She sighs, but there’s a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. “I thought about what you said. When you spoke to me in the kitchen and told me Octavius did so much for you while you were growing up.” I nod slowly, unsure where she’s going with this. “Well, I think I should trust my father and make sure his wishes are something I can perhaps give him. He’s been good to me, even though his work is not something I agree with.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’m not saying I can love you, or will, but I’m willing to give this a shot. But,” she says, holding her finger up when she notices I want to say something. “We will take this at my pace. I don’t need you kidnapping me and locking me in a cage. I will go to school, study, and finish my degree.”
“A relationship on your terms?”
Micaela nods. “Yes. And if you do anything to upset me, our deal is off.” She squares her shoulders. Her negotiations went as she had planned in her mind, and for a moment, just one fleeting second in time, I can’t help but think about a future with her. A happy one. Where I could quite possibly have a family, happiness, and even see her carrying my children.
But the moment passes quickly. “I can live with that. I promise not to lock you in a cage, and you promise to give me a chance.” Even as I say the words, I wonder just how long this good, moral part of me will last.
14
Micaela
The past few days have been easy to deal with. Creed picked me up from school, took me to my apartment, and spent the afternoons and evenings
