I took another sip of wine, feeling anger move through me. I held on to the emotion tightly—it felt so much better than the jealousy, the hurt. Perhaps I deserved all three, but it didn't mean I had to like it.
The fact remained, though: I did have to endure it. I'd agreed to as much.
Brogan and Anna came into the dining room. Anna shot me an annoyed look. Clearly, she'd rather be alone with Brogan. Who could blame her, really? I'd be uncomfortable if I were her, too. I'd serve dinner and make myself scarce.
I brought the dished-up plates to the table and refilled their drinks. "If you don't need anything else—"
"We might. Stay nearby," Brogan instructed. I felt my nostrils flare, but I simply nodded and left the room. In the kitchen I poured myself a second glass of wine and sat at the island flipping, unseeing, through a magazine of neighborhood coupons that was sitting with the other junk mail.
Anna's feminine laughter drifted from the dining room. I heard Brogan call my name and froze, getting up slowly and walking back into the dining room where I saw Anna had pulled her chair closer to Brogan.
"What can I get for you?" I asked, clasping my hands in front of me and smiling placidly.
Without turning to me, Brogan said, "I dropped my napkin. Will you bring me a new one please?"
Or you could simply bend down and pick it back up, you arrogant asshole. "Of course." I retrieved another napkin from his linen drawer and took it into him.
"Thanks," he said, not looking at me. I held the napkin out to him, but when it became clear he wasn't going to take it, I set it down on the table, my knuckles rapping against the wood. The noise caused him to glance up at me, those blue, blue eyes meeting mine. My heart squeezed.
"God," Anna moaned, putting a forkful of halibut into her mouth, "this is so good." She licked her bottom lip slowly and giggled, putting her fork down and sliding her hand across the table where she used her index finger to run along the top of Brogan's hand. "My compliments, Lydia. This food is almost better than sex." She looked pointedly at Brogan. "Almost." She turned her eyes toward me, clear hostility there now. And why? I'd done nothing to her.
"Well," I said, shooting her what I hoped was a fake looking smile, "I really wouldn't know. I've only been with one man, and it was an extremely unfulfilling experience."
Brogan's body went rigid and Anna's eyes narrowed. "That's a shame, Lydia. Maybe you should get out more." Like right now, was written on her face.
"That's a good idea, Anna. If there'll be nothing more, I'll leave you two to enjoy your date." I didn't give Brogan the chance to reply before rushing from the room. I grabbed my phone off the counter and headed up the stairs. I'd come down later—after they were gone wherever it was they'd end up going—and clean the kitchen then. Was she going to spend the night here? I ran my fingers over my forehead. So this was his plan. How stupid I was to even consider that he'd brought me to his home to use me as some modern-day sex slave. He was going to keep me here to show me how very wanted he was by other women. How very little he wanted me. Why? Because he'd thought all those years ago my tricking him meant that I hadn't cared for him at all. And yet, if he cared enough to go to such extreme lengths to prove something to me, didn't it also prove that he’d cared and cared deeply? Had cared? Did care? I sighed. Oh, Brogan. What is this you're doing?
And now he knew he was the only man I'd ever been with because I'd blurted it out in a moment of anger. I cringed. I hadn't thought that out. I hardly wanted him to know that.
I undressed and took a long, hot shower and then put on a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top I slept in. I hoped Brogan wouldn't try to call me downstairs to serve dessert. Oops, I hadn't made dessert. Well, Anna would appreciate that—she wouldn't have to wait to get Brogan upstairs and into bed. I put in a pair of ear buds and turned on Spotify on my phone, lying back on the bed.
Something woke me. I blinked, trying to grasp where I was for a moment, moaning aloud when I finally did. I felt like I'd been sleeping for hours. My eyes adjusted to the low light and I turned over, bringing my knees up and wrapping my arms around them, loneliness assaulting me in the darkness of this strange bedroom.
"Were you lying?"
I startled, letting out a small yelp and jerking upright. Brogan had turned one of the chairs flanking the fireplace and was sitting on it, leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs as he watched me.
I allowed my heart rate to slow for a few moments, removing the now-silent ear buds. My playlist had ended. "It's not okay to come into my room without permission."
"You went into mine."
Ah, so he'd noticed. "Not while you were in there," I defended.
"That makes it better?"
"I . . . what do you want? I didn't think midnight visits to my bedroom were part of our deal, not that we've defined the terms of our deal since you stood me up last night." I scooted to the side of the bed, running my hand through my hair, trying to work out some of the tangles.
"Were you lying about having only been with me?"
I stared at him in the dim light, his features softened, the color of his eyes subdued. "No, I wasn't lying."
"Why?" he hissed.
I jerked back slightly. "Why what?"
"Why haven't you been with another man in all this time?" He stood suddenly and stuffed his hands in his pockets, turning toward the window.