“Did someone move into her damn house and guard her?” I’m angry. I can’t help it. It’s so violating. I don’t want anyone in my home. I like to be alone. It’s my haven where I can be my little self and unwind in the evening. No way I can do that with Colt there.
“Yes,” Davis responds. “I did.”
I flinch. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. That makes sense.”
“It’s how we met. She was in trouble. I brought her home with me. She never left.” He smiles. “I can’t imagine my life without her now.”
“Was she…little?”
He shakes his head, his next words contradicting the head shake. “Well…yes, but she didn’t know it yet.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “You can do this, and if it helps, I would trust Colt with my life. I have trusted him with Britney’s life.”
I nod. “Okay.” I glance back at Colt. “I guess we’re doing this then.”
Chapter 5
Evelyn
My foundation is cracked. I drop my keys on the floor while trying to unlock the door to my apartment. I’m shaking as I glance up and down the hallway, worried someone is going to jump out and grab me. Worried one of my neighbors might step out of their apartment and want to make small talk.
I jump out of my skin when I hear the door at the end of the hall open, knowing someone is stepping out of the stairwell. I’m in such a state that I nearly cry out even though the man I find coming toward me is Colt.
He has a bag over his shoulder, and he moves efficiently toward me, somehow looking calm but determined at the same time. He also moves swiftly without appearing to be in a hurry.
When he reaches me, he eases the keys from my shaking hands and unlocks my door, a hand at my back ushering me inside.
I don’t breathe until the door is shut, realizing that I have been holding my breath for a while. Suddenly, I switch from scared to furious. I yank the keys out of Colt’s hand, stuff them back in my purse, and drop my purse on the coffee table as I rush past it.
This is not me. I’m solid as a rock when I’m my adult self. Nothing gets to me. I can face a room full of middle-aged men and turn them into putty while I explain to them why their business can’t claim daily alcohol consumption as a deduction.
It’s not surprising that I’m raw right now. This is my time. I left the office three hours ago. I should have been here in my home a long time ago, dressed in my footed pajamas, sipping a juice box, eating animal crackers in front of one of my favorite animated movies.
I’m shaking because I haven’t gotten my fix. Some people may do drugs or drink. I unwind by turning off my adult. It works for me. I had a hard day. I’d promised myself a bubble bath, chicken nuggets, and mac and cheese.
Now? I have a permanent house guest who doesn’t know the first thing about my fetish and is going to put a cramp in my style.
“Evelyn?”
I spin around on my way to the kitchen. I’m hangry. “Eve.”
He nods. “Sorry. Eve. I’ve been thinking of you as Evelyn for two weeks.”
“Well, stop it.”
“Do you dislike your name? I think it’s lovely. Sophisticated. Like the owner.” He’s offering me a slight smile.
I set a hand on one hip and rub my temples with my other hand. “I don’t dislike my name. It’s just that…” I spin around before finishing. “You wouldn’t understand, and I don’t feel like explaining.”
“Okay. Fair enough. I’ll try to remember to call you Eve.”
“Good.” I head for the kitchen. Seriously, my blood sugar has taken a dive from not eating for so many hours combined with the rush of adrenaline I’ve been managing poorly.
“How about if I order us something to eat?” he offers.
I grab a glass and fill it with tap water, downing it before answering. At least I won’t be dehydrated.
“Do you like pizza?” he continues.
I set the glass down a bit hard, the sound reverberating through the room, and meet his gaze. “I’m sorry I’m completely rattled. I realize it’s not your fault. Pizza would be perfect. Thank you.” My little would love to have pizza. She’d also love to come out and play now. If I could just change into her, I might be able to put the past few hours out of my head for a while and buy myself some time to regroup.
Alas, not an option. At least I can have pizza.
“What would you like on it?” he asks as he pulls out his phone.
“Just cheese.” I don’t look at him as I brush past him, intent on at least changing out of my skirt, heels, and blouse. I aim directly for my bedroom, shut the door, and turn the lock.
Finally, I can breathe. I rush over to the window and close the blinds, shuddering at the thought that someone outside might be watching me. Maybe they have seen me changing or in my bra. Ugh.
Two seconds later, I’m in my closet, stripping off my adult self, including my bra and lace thong. Surely I can find something comfortable to put on that won’t make me appear too little. The footie PJs will have to wait another day. If I walked out to my living room wearing them, I would be embarrassed, and Colt would be uncomfortable.
I choose a pair of pink panties with a princess on the front. He’ll never see those. Next, I dig to the bottom of my pile of leggings to pull out the black pair I rarely wear. Lastly, I shuffle through my sweatshirts and find the only one that doesn’t have an emblem on it. It’s lavender, my favorite color.
In the bathroom, I tug out my bun and let my hair fall down my back. I sigh
