This overbearing control freak that’s sitting next to me, the same man who lay on the roof with me last night, isn’t pulling away or being an asshole on purpose. No, he’s trying to gain some semblance of control because he’s spiraling.
I can see it in his eyes. The worry. The uneasiness. The need to stay focused on an immediate task in fear of the mind wandering. It’s happened to me several times after a nightmare about my parents. This is his way of gaining control. He’s grasping, reaching for anything to help him forget his thoughts from last night. It’s why he’s been short with me. It’s why he’s trying to control the situation now. He’s in self-defense mode, and until his mind calms down, he’s not going to get out of it.
This means one thing—I need to help.
“Uh, Keller,” Lara says. “Maybe you’re being a little tough on her. This is her first formal meal.”
“No, Lara, that’s okay,” I say, holding up my hand and turning toward Keller. “If he wants me to wait for his command, I can be more than accommodating. I just wasn’t aware that was what we were doing.” I pick up my cup from the floor and place it on my head. “Fill me up, sir.” My eyes float to his, and I watch them turn dark as I sit tall, stretching my torso out, performing exactly the way he wants me to.
You want to forget, Keller? Well, sir, this is one way to do that.
“Thank you so much,” I say to Brimar as he takes my dessert plate, which had held a decadent chocolate mousse. It took everything in me not to moan while I ate it.
Overall, eating with a steady hand and a stiff body takes a lot of energy, but it’s doable. The hardest part of the meal was the soup. But the trick of it was, not to fill up the spoon and to ever so slightly lean at an angle, just in case you have a shaky hand.
After the initial two spills of water off my head, I held my composure the entire time, listening intently to Keller’s instructions, waiting for him to show me what to do. And the more I obeyed him, the more his breath picked up. His chest filled out with pride, and the dangerous look in his eyes turned positively perilous.
The air grew thick.
Lara and Brimar ended up holding their own conversation on their side of the table. What I was doing was working.
While devouring my mousse, I put on a show for Keller, making sure to deliberately wrap my lips around my spoon and slowly pull it out while maintaining eye contact with him the whole time.
“So, does that conclude our meal for the day?” I ask, still holding up the water on my head.
“Yes,” Keller says, his voice tight.
“Lovely.” I remove the cup and set it on the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go for another walk.”
I stand from my chair and head toward the stairway so I can change, and over my shoulder, I ask, “Keller, will you be joining me?”
I hear Lara chuckle before she rises from the table and heads into the kitchen to help Brimar.
“If that’s what you wish.”
“Oh, it is.”
And I can’t wait to hear what he has to say to me when we’re alone, without an audience watching our every interaction.
Hurrying up the stairs, I strip out of my clothes when I reach my bedroom, and I opt for a loose pair of sweatpants and a crop top. I search through my bras for something more comfortable when a thought pops up in my head. Maybe . . . we do no bra at all.
Cue evil grin
Oh yes, no bra is the perfect way to go with this long-sleeved crop top that’s just loose enough that if I raise my hands, my underboob is exposed.
Yes, this is exactly what I need.
Keller will rue the day he tried to push me away after sharing a lovely evening. He has no idea who he’s dealing with.
Once dressed, I brush my damp hair out and tie it into a bun on the top of my head, and then take a look at myself in the mirror. Perfect. Ready to go, I jog down the stairs to where Keller is standing, hands in his black jean pockets, watching my every move.
I pat him on the chest as I walk by and say, “All dry now, but I’m sure you’ll have no qualms getting me wet again, right?” I wink at him, and he catches what I mean.
“Lilly,” he says in a warning tone.
“Just slipping my shoes on.” When I finish tying them, I reach for the door, but Keller beats me to it. Acting like the perfect gentleman, he opens the door widely for me, and as I walk past him, I feel his hand on my lower back as he follows closely behind, shutting the door after him. I try—desperately—not to react to his warm hand on my skin.