The Colour of War

Chapter 34

The night air hummed with the remnants of jazz as Stefan and Evelyn strolled back to Mateo's apartment, their hands lingering upon each other. Evelyn tiptoed into the room where Ruby and Constance slept, their gentle breathing soft and quiet. She smiled fondly at the sight before gently closing the door behind her.

"Stefan," Evelyn whispered with unmistakable desire as they stood at her doorway. Then, with a sultry smile, she tugged him inside. "I want to play."

"Remember the rules," he asserted, his eyes hungry. The door clicked shut, sealing them away from the world.

Dawn crept in, Evelyn stretched, her bare arm brushing Stefan's shoulder as he sat facing the window, his back to her. A soft, knowing smile played on her lips as she leaned in, kissing his shoulder gently.

He turned, his face aloof, his green eyes holding a questioning gaze. "After me, I'm correct in thinking there's been others. I mean, surely it's been years."

Evelyn's smile faltered. She didn't like where this was going. "Does it matter, Stefan?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

"Just curious," he said, his eyebrow arched. "I assume Clarence... right?"

She rolled her eyes, a playful retort on her tongue, but he was already grinning. A grin that, she knew, meant a shadow of jealousy had crept into Stefan's soul.

"I won't engage in this game," Evelyn protested. "Why do you have to spoil it? Last night was..." she shuddered, a memory of the night's intimacy lingering in the air, "...amazing."

"Indulge me," he said, deceptively calm.

"And you?" she countered. "Whom have you consorted with in my absence?"

Stefan remained impassive. "Only Frieda. A necessity, nothing more."

"So, back to you," Stefan pressed, his eyes focused on her. He leaned back, watching her with a strange intensity.

She looked away. "Fine," she sighed, relenting. "Two others... besides Clarence. Brig's cousin," she said, "and a friend, at a family wedding I went to as a guest with her."

His eyebrows shot up. "You mean at different times?" he pressed.

Evelyn shook her head, the memory of that summer replaying through her mind. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips, gone as quickly as it came. "Don't look at me like that," she said sharply.

He didn't need to speak. The look of disapproval was unmistakably clear.

"It happened once," she said, her voice intrepid, "the three of us, we had a good time and that was that." But she didn't tell him about the lingering touches, for Evelyn had continued to visit Brig's cousin long after that fateful night.

"When?" he asked quickly, barely letting her finish.

"I don't know," she retorted, her voice rising.

"When, Evelyn," he insisted, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl.

"Four years ago, Stefan," she said, her voice cracking slightly.

His nostrils flared, his expression unreadable. He looked over at her, feeling possessive of her pleasure. Evelyn bit her lip, unsure of what he was thinking. She wasn't ashamed. She was a single woman. She could do as she pleased.

"Did you..." his voice trailed off, the words lodged in his throat like a fishbone. The question left unanswered. He couldn't bring himself to articulate the morbid curiosity that tugged at him.

"For them...?" he began again, his brows dipping into a frown that betrayed his feigned nonchalance.

"Okay, that's enough, I'm not on trial here," Evelyn interrupted. She didn't want to be dissected, her past scrutinised. She didn't want to divulge how she'd made sounds and noises she thought were reserved only for him.