Now, the biggest part of me feels resentment towards him. I don’t know what it is about that man, but he brings out the worst mixed emotions in me. A portion of me thinks it may be teenage hormones, but another portion thinks it’s because of his uncanny knack of being sweet one minute and damn right domineering the next. I may not be his—as he calls it—yet, but I know that’s not really the case. I’m already this man’s prisoner … in every conceivable way. Things were always a mix of good and bad between us, but lately, I feel something shifting. It’s as if a sudden change of tide is coming. I see the way he looks at me now. I notice the expectation and flurry of excitement shining through. He wants me. I know he wants me.
It’s funny really because I have been of a legal age for almost two years now, and yet he still insists on keeping me at arm’s length until I turn eighteen. A part of me wants him. Oh God, does it want him—especially since that kiss at the cinema. I find myself thinking of nothing else ever since.
And that’s why I hate him even more.
It’s not enough that he’s invading me in every other way possible? He also has to invade my thoughts?
That is definitely one area I consider to be my own, but in true Drake fashion, he has managed to seep in there too. Also, if I’m honest, a part of me hates the fact I haven’t heard a word from him in two weeks. There have been days when we’ve lost contact, but never this long. It burdens me that I’m thinking this way. I want nothing to do with him, and yet I find myself unable to help feel that pull I have towards him.
And that’s why tonight—for the first time ever—I chose to really defy the man who seems to have this hold on me. I deliberately drove more than thirty miles out of our little town of Cobham, Surrey to a little, tiny village south of High Wycombe. I wanted to escape, but I also wanted anonymity. Unfortunately, too many people knew who I was where I lived, and it was starting to get on top of me.
Sighing, I order my second drink of the evening, not caring if I get drunk. I’ll sleep in the car if I have to. My phone rings for the thirtieth time since I set out, and I do what I did with the other twenty-nine times—ignore it.
“Someone’s eager to reach you,” a voice sounds at the end of the bar.
I look up and find a young guy, who must be in his twenties, smiling at me. He looks nice enough with his well-pressed shirt and trousers, cropped blond hair, and nice smile. But, I know nice smiles mean nothing. I get them often enough with Drake, but I still know something sinister lives within him—no matter how much he tells me otherwise.
Looking down at my phone, I silence it. “I’m sorry if it’s disturbing you.”
“It’s not. I was just trying to think of an excuse to talk to you.” He chuckles a little, making me smile, and he sees this as his cue to get a little closer. Once sitting next to me, he holds out his hand. “Chris.”
I take his hand and shake it. “Evelyn.”
He smiles brightly with a drunk gaze in his eyes. “Can I offer you a drink, Evelyn?”
Shaking my head, I point to my drink. “No, thank you. I just got one.”
He nods his head, and I can tell he’s just itching to ask me something. I don’t have to wait long to find out what that is. “So, did you have an argument with your boyfriend or something?”
I frown, my heart rate picking up a little. “Excuse me?”
He points to my phone on the bar. “The person trying to reach you. Whoever it is seems persistent. I’m just assuming it’s your boyfriend.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t know why I’m so immediately afraid of strangers. Maybe being with Drake for so long has had a lasting impact. I shake my head. “No… Well, it is a man, but … it’s complicated,” I sigh.
Chris chuckles. “Isn’t it always?”
I smile, warming to him a little. “I guess.”
“Do you mind telling me what he’s done to make you run out on your own to a strange bar in the middle of nowhere?”
“Who says this is a strange bar? I might come here all the time.”
He laughs a little. “I say that because this is my regular, and believe me, I would have noticed you drinking in here before.” He lets out a silent laugh and I smile. “You seem wary of me, and I don’t want you to feel that way. Not all men are bad … and we’re not all like the man you’re obviously running away from.”
“You make a lot of assumptions.”
“Well, am I right or wrong?” I stare at him a moment, but can’t help the smile that rises on my face again. “I knew it!” he blurts, making me laugh. “See, that’s much better. Whoever he is doesn’t deserve you.”