Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. Stop, Kiera. Stop. Stop! STOP!
"Everything okay?" I wrench my gaze from the blank word document staring at me on the screen of my laptop to Rachel. We were in the kitchen. I sat at the kitchen counter on higher bar stool. Opposite the counter and me, Rachel was drinking her wine. Looking me over the brim of her glass.
"Fine." I mumble. I begin to type. Then deleting it. Again, I start with a sentence only to click on the backspace like a hammer on a
nail. The sound of laughter coming from the living room made me close my eyes in annoyance. Rachel had her friends over which means Tate was here as well. I don't want to let that bother me. I won't allow it.
"You seemed troubled, Kiera. Did you sleep well?" I scrunched my nose at her suggestive tone. I give up my attempt on writing and dawn my attention to her completely.
"Why are you insisting upon this?" I clasp my fingers, resting my chin on them. "You seem to take joy in coercing me into close quarters with your brother. Why?"
She smacks her tongue, tasting the wine. "It's obvious, isn't it? There is clearly something going on between you two."
I deny the claim instantly. "Heavens no! Nothing is going on between us."
Elon had dropped me off with not even a goodbye and with a clenched jaw, he zoomed off, leaving me in the dust. There was a painful silence between us in the car ride over to the apartment. I did my best to ignore it. Not to test it even. It was too much for me. Too much of a burden.
"Are you put off by what you saw? His work?" That's putting it mildly. Maybe it was a trope for girls who hate to love the bad guys and their thirst for ambition but I don't think I can find it in me to stay in that fairy tale.
"I have no judgement on what he does because I will be gone after the month ends." I snap my laptop close.
"You really think he is going to let you leave?" She drags the wine bottle across the counter, dolloping wine after wine into her glass. I freeze. "You are not actually suggesting he is going to keep me here longer?"
When Rachel continues to gulp her wine, I slap the counter, getting infuriated. "I have a job. A life. I don't settle in one place. He has to shoot a bullet through me to make me stay here."
"Is that right?" My hands clench when I hear Elon stroll into the kitchen. He had changed into formal clothing. A white crispy shirt with the collar opening enough to peek at the rock hard chest. His ironed black slacks fall perfectly over his shiny black shoes. I have never seen him in such an attire. He was prone to giving me that itchy fidgety feeling all over.
Tate was following just a pace away. Her hand over his bicep like a tattoo. I look away, feeling claustrophobic. Does he kiss her the way he kissed me?
Rachel sees my face, a sympathy color flashes in her gaze. I click my tongue in my cheek. "Yeah the only way you are keeping me here is if I were dead."
Tate's expression narrowed. I don't glance at her though. Her stupid hand is still over his bicep and he hasn't even deign to remove it in my presence. Asshole!
"Leave us." I snap my eyes over to Elon who had an intense scrutiny about him. Rachel takes the cue and quickly leaves the room. Tate, however, remains at his side. She stayed there because surely he couldn't possibly mean her. The idea seemed ludicrous to her. I grind my teeth hard.
She looks up at Elon, waiting for him to tell me to get up and leave. Is the woman daft? My fingers curl as I try very hard to maintain my facade of indifference. I am not jealous. No, I'm not.
"Tate leave." His eyes twitched with annoyance or amusement, I wasn't clear.
"But babe-" Her hand curls under his bicep and I think I see red. My vision thunders with the bright red light. Babe got my stomach knotting in twists. Truth be told I'd rather have Elon make her stay here. It would be so much more easier to just spite the gorgeous man even more.
"Tate leave!" Tate's cheeks turned beet red but she handled her embarrassment while shrugging her shoulders and giving me the death stare.
Once we were alone, Elon moves to the counter. His hands spread on the white porcelain surface. If the table wasn't in between us, he would have kept me trapped between those sturdy long arms.
"So you would rather have me kill you than have you be here with me." His head slanted to the side, studying me.
"I'm not here with you. I'm here because of work. Then I leave after a month." Crazy how many times I repeated the the sentence leave after a month. It seemed to irritate him.
"Okay." He says uninterestingly. I blink back my shock. His hands move to cross them over his chest.
"Okay? Just okay? Just like that?" I am perplexed that he didn't put up a fight.
"You seem...disappointed." He states, the curve of his lip tilted up. I hate when he is being cute.
I grab the edge of the counter, pushing my seat back. "No I'm not disappointed. Just relieved that you have come to your senses."
I am about to leave when he catches hold of my wrist. "I have one condition though, Kiera."
I shiver. "What is that?" The pulse in my wrist beats faster and I know he feels it because his gaze clouds with lust. He pulls me closer over the counter, and I let him. He bends his head, placing a kiss on the side of my throat. I gasp at the touch.
"You will write a poem about how you feel about me. In absolute honesty. No exaggerations. No lies. I want the actual truth from you. And when I find it to be the poem to my liking, will I then let you go." He watches me taken in the condition.
My brows drew down at his weird request. "Why are you hell bent on me writing my poems? And where the hell is my black notebook?"
"That stays with me." He again gives me a kiss on my jaw and then lets my hand go. I control myself. I just saw him with Tate. I refuse to let him kiss me whenever he wanted to and telling me what to do.
"That's my notebook. My private business. I don't need you to come and tell me what is what. Give me the notebook Elon." I threaten him.
"Or what?" He doesn't back out. He scratches the base of jaw. As if he was bored with this conversation. With me.
I shake in my shoes. I retort back, "Or I will tell your precious Tate that you kissed me."
He barks out a laugh. It jolted straight to my center. "By all means, go ahead!"
He is laughing! At me! "You are such an asshole!" I fume, my hands itching to slap him.
"I know." He takes a glass out from the overhead cabinet and turns on the faucet in the sink. Filling it till the brim with water. Shutting it off, he chugs the water down. His throat bobbing up and down. Trickles of water falling from the side, down the corner of his mouth. He wipes it with the back of his hand as he slams the glass on the counter. "Meet my condition or else you are trapped here forever."
My spine steels with tension. He walks by me only to brush my hair from my forehead, whispering in my ear. "And Tate isn't my precious." I feel his lips press right below my earlobe. A light smack on my ass jerks me out of stupor. "Later Kiera. Make sure to get me my poem."
He walks back into the living room and sucked into Rachel's circle of friends. I shake my head. This guy thinks he can do whatever he wants and not suffer the consequences.
I'm tired of being someone's plaything. I refuse to put out and give in. Not matter how tempting it may be.
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FICKLE HEART
Romance"You don't understand anything!" He roared out, his skin shaking with fervor. And I stare onto his eyes with no mercy. " I never did." ~ Running. That's all Kiera King knows how to do. So much that she made it her job. A travel writer who made her...
