CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Evander's POV.
My lips suck on those soft lips, but she doesn't kiss me back.
She breaks free from the kiss, releasing her grip from my neck with a face that looks like a mix of surprise and resistance.
"One minute I'm unworthy, and the next you're kissing me like you can't get enough of me, pick a fucking side." She growls, crossing her arms.
I blink back, realizing what I just did. Words bubble inside of me but nothing an audible sigh is all that escapes my lips.
How do I explain that I can't seem to control how I react when I'm around her?
Whenever those lilac orbs bore into me, it ignites an insatiable desire within me, and everything else–her curves, her beautiful hair, and even her ragged dress sense seems to warp my senses, leaving behind nothing but the will to get closer, to feel her.
How can I possibly explain that she's doing things to me even before she lays her hands on me?
Christ.
I have to stay away from her.
At all costs.
"Cat got your tongue now? I'm not surprised,"Her sharp voice veers me back to reality.
"Uhh…I'm–I'm sorry about that, I just–"
She slides a hand down her face, "Man, can you quit the apologies already? You're boring me."
That rude tone makes whatever conflicting thoughts I have of her fly out of my mind, leaving nothing but irritation.
"Last I checked, I'm not an entertainer."
"You'd fail at it even if you tried," she mumbles under her breath but it's audible enough for me to hear.
My jaws tick, "There's three more hours until the meeting. Go and change."
She eyes me, fixing her hands into her shorts, "If we're going to keep cohabiting in this office, you'll have to understand that I'm going to keep disobeying you."
I groan, stepping back, "Why is so fucking hard for you to listen?" I grit out, taking steady breaths to calm the eruption of rage within me.
"Just because you pay people doesn't give you the right to trap in bedsheets that you call 'decent outfits'," She stated, making an air quote as she finishes.
It's useless trying to argue with her and I've come to understand that over the past few days. So without uttering a word, my hand curls around her wrist, swinging her into a tagalong as I head out of the office.
She occasionally calls me a good boy through the ride, feeling like she's won until I stop the car in front of a tall, sophisticated glass building.
"X's Boutique&More"
She reads as she glances out the window, wondering why the car suddenly stopped. She snaps her towards me, "This don't look like a confectionery."
"I'm getting you clothes, now move it." I state, watching her face gasp but swallow her words.
"You're going to regret doing that," she retorts.
"Not if they're your style," I point out, plopping out of my car.
Nyx is stubborn and for me to get her to do my bidding, it has to be something that fits her style or else, we'd spend the day bickering.
She gets out before I get to the other side, narrowing her eyes at me, "You better not be deducting from my pay."
I smirk, "I'm Moral, not Tyrannical. Let's go," I gesture to the entrance of the building that has two security officers clad in white and black facing each other.
I lead her into the building, and it's the still the same–broken into different sections with clothes, jeweleries and shoes cascading from the top to the floor, shimmering in bright glitters.
Nyx and I make our way to the left, heading for the stairs that leads to the second floor.
"Hi, Mr Cross, it's so good to see you. How can I help?" Millie–the shop attendant beams, darting her eyes to Nyx.
"Hi ma'am," she greets but Nyx sizes her up, ignoring her.
"We're here for the lady. We need clothes that fit her style but looks more classy," I state, watching Nyx throw her weight against the sofa.
Millie nods and the walls bounces with the loud clap she uses to alert the other workers. They soon began showing us different types of clothes from various designers.
None of it seems to pique Nyx's interest and my thighs are starting to ache from sitting all day.
"Just pick one already and let's get going,"
"This is your idea so you better sir your ass down and enjoy the fashion show." She huffs.
A show? Christ, this lady.
The next set of clothes are crop tops and sweatpants, from Svetlana's designs. I find them really basic, but Nyx grins the moment the mobile hanger rolls in.
"That one," she points to the one in the middle–a blue crop top with a matching blue sweatpant.
Millie hands it to her and she heads into the dressing room, stepping out a few minutes later in her new outfits.
The hem of the crop top snatches her waist, revealing the shiny jewelry sitting pretty in her belly button.
She looks good, I can't lie.
When my eyes land on her legs, I notice she's still wearing boots.
Turning to Millie, I point towards Nyx's legs, "Get her some sneakers,"
"I'm good with the boots," She quickly replies, pulling Millie to a halt.
"Millie, please get the kicks," I repeat, ignoring Nyx.
She props her hands on her hips, her previous clothes sliding down to the joining of her hands on her hips.
"If she brings those kicks, I'm snacking you with it."
Millie sucks in a breath, fighting the urge to not laugh.
I sigh, "Nyx please. Let her get you better shoes to match your outfit."
"I'm comfortable in my boots. Plus, my pants are big enough to cover them." She insists.
Seeing that she isn't going to change her mind, I instruct Millie to pack some other clothes I liked for her and while she was busy with that, one of the workers come close to me.
"Sir, you two make the cutest couple,"
"Excuse me? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to pair me with him?" Nyx snaps, her face splitting with disgust.
I don't know why that makes my heart spike with annoyance, "Actually, it's more embarrassing for me to be seen outside with you."
"Says the guy who brought me to a big ass boutique with hundreds of people," she clicks her tongue.
The worker beams sheepishly, staring at the both of us with dreamy eyes.
Millie hands me the bags and and I stretch my credit card to her, while Nyx rises from the sofa, putting her previous clothes in one of the bags.
~
Darkness casts over the city as I drive my way back home. The honking of cars, screeching of tyres against granite and the chatters from every corner of the area fades into my ears as I drive through.
My phone vibrates on the seat across me, and I reach for it, rolling the steering wheel with my other hand.
The caller ID has Jeremy's name on it.
I answer the call, dropping the phone above the steering wheel.
"Evan! There's news!" Jeremy's voice booms through the phone with excitement.
I shake my head, already knowing the kind of news he has at such a late hour.
"Unfortunately, I'm too tired to party," I say, keeping my eyes on the the road.
"You're not allowed to refuse, the last time I called you in advance, you came up with an excuse," Jeremy reminds me.
But how could I have gone for a club party when I just visited Liora's grave? I was in no mood.
I sigh, "Man, can't it be some other time?"
"No! You have to come tonight! I promise, you'll love it!" Jeremy persuades me.
If I refuse to attend this with him, he'd never let me hear the end of it. But my body is aching badly, I really need to sleep.
My lips purse as I hum slowly, rolling the steering as I make a turn to my right.
"Fine. Send me the location."
"Great, I'll see you there. And don't you dare think to bail last minute, there's a surprise for you." Jeremy says and the line beeps dead.
My mind immediately surges with curiosity, I wonder what surprise Jeremy's got for me.