Page 14 of The House Guest

“It wasn’t rejection. It was restraint.” He looked into my eyes.

“What about my licking your body made you think I wasn’t interested?

I did want to go to your room. More than anything I’d wanted in a long time.

For once in my life, though, I’m trying to do the responsible thing when it comes to a woman I’ve grown to care about.

” He leaned toward me. “Make no mistake, I do care about you, Primrose, even though we haven’t known each other that long. ”

I sighed. Maybe this whole thing was for the best. I didn’t want to lose him, either. There was no one else on Earth who understood the loss we’d both endured. I needed to grow up about this and be happy one of us was being mature.

“I can respect that. And I’ll try not to take it personally.”

“Can you? Because you constantly checking to make sure I’m not home sucks. I feel like if I hadn’t come home early tonight, I might not have seen you for another week.”

“If you’re barely home, how could you be so sure I was avoiding you?”

“There are cameras all over the house. Do you know how many times they’ve alerted me that someone was in the garage? And then I’d check it to find you peeking at the bay where I park.”

“Shit.” I closed my eyes briefly and had to laugh at myself. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way unless we make it so.”

“I don’t want to avoid you anymore,” I muttered.

“Good, because I miss running into you.”

“And I miss my tea in the kitchen.”

“Ouch.” He laughed. “You’ve been avoiding the kitchen because of me?”

“Somewhat. I’m excited to make my triumphant return.” I sighed. “I’m glad you found me in here tonight. The hiding did need to end.”

“Were you looking for another hiding place or going through your aunt’s things?”

“Finally garnered the courage to look through her stuff. I decided I’m just gonna donate it all.”

“There’s nothing you want to keep?”

“I don’t need any of it.”

“I think you should keep at least one thing. You might regret it if you don’t.”

“Are you keeping anything of your father’s?”

“Well, he’s left me an entire mess of a company.

So I don’t feel like I need a Brooks Brothers shirt…

or a set of cufflinks.” He stood and flipped through his dad’s clothes.

“But I probably will keep a couple of things that remind me of him specifically. I’d been putting off coming in here, too.

If I hadn’t noticed the light on in the room and the door slightly open, it might’ve been months before I ventured into this closet. ”

I looked down at a pair of leather boots. “It’s eerie being among their things, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“It makes you feel like they’re coming back,” I whispered.

Dorian ran his hand along his dad’s shirts.

“I think I’m gonna follow your lead. Spare myself the misery of having to go through it all piece by piece.

” He turned to me. “We should donate it all this week. I’ll have Benjamin hire someone to come in and take everything.

” He paused. “And then I think you should use this space as an art room. Move into the main bedroom. That way you can have all your stuff in one area of the house.”

My eyes widened. “What?” Jesus. Was this the consolation prize for being turned down?

“The shelves in here can easily house your supplies, and it’ll be a better use for the space.”

Guilt washed over me as I looked at the shelves that currently held my aunt’s large shoe collection, unable to imagine canisters of paint and brushes replacing them. But it was hard to turn down the offer. The lighting in here was superb, and I could really use a space of my own to work.

“Are you serious?”

He nodded. “This is the best bedroom in the house. It shouldn’t go to waste. Unless you’re not comfortable sleeping where they did. I’d understand that, too. I’ll have Benjamin order you all new linens.”

“That’s generous of you, but it’s not necessary. The linens are beautiful.”

“Nothing else will become of this space if you don’t want it.”

I didn’t have to think too hard. “Okay, then I’m gonna take you up on that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dorian took one of Remington’s shirts off the rack and stared down at it for a moment.

My emotions got the best of me as I blurted, “I hope they’re in a better place.”

He looked up at me. “Me, too.”

“I guess we’re the ones left to feel the pain, huh?”

“I haven’t let myself feel much of anything.

” Dorian smiled sadly as he looked down at the shirt again.

“I gave him this for Christmas years back. I’m surprised he still had it.

I remember being all proud that I’d picked it out because I knew it was his taste.

When Dad opened the box, I remember him telling me what he really wanted for Christmas was for me to get a four-point-oh.

” Dorian shook his head. “I had a three-point-fucking-nine.”

“He was really a perfectionist, huh?”

“A brilliant man and a perfectionist when it came to himself or anything he considered an extension of himself, yeah.” He shook his head. “It was like he looked at me and saw all of his own imperfections amplified.”

“Well, I think a three-point-nine is pretty freaking great.”

“I thought so, too, until he rained on my parade. The next semester I had a four-point-oh though. Pleasing him was always my biggest motivator. Maybe because he was so hard to impress. Getting his approval always felt like a huge victory.”

He hung the shirt back on the rack and sat back with me on the ground.

The nearness of his body was immediately all I could think about.

I didn’t know how to feel anymore. On one hand, he’d closed the door on anything happening between us.

On the other, he’d admitted he wanted to sleep with me.

I really needed to detach from that glimmer of hope.

“Well, wherever your father is now, I’m certain he sees that the need for perfection was just the ego playing tricks.”

“You think he’s looking down with a different attitude?”

“I don’t know for certain, but I can’t imagine anything that happens here on Earth carries any weight when you get to the next phase of existence—certainly not perfect grades or money.

I feel like superficial things are just tricks to see if we can overcome temptation and realize that the only important things are the people we care about. ”

“I wish I could believe that. I still feel so imprisoned by the need to ensure that he’d be happy with me. As if he has nothing better to do than continue judging me from the afterlife.”

I nodded. “Ingrained beliefs are pervasive. Wanting to please your father is one thing. Making yourself sick in the process or feeling like even your best isn’t good enough is a losing game, though.”

Dorian shook his head. “How the fuck are you so wise at twenty-three?”

I shrugged. “I had to grow up fast when my mom died. When you’re alone, you have no choice but to find strength from within. You have to be your own biggest supporter, learn to talk to yourself a lot. I had to let go of the false beliefs holding me back because I no longer had the energy for them.”

“I wanna be you when I grow up.”

I smiled, my gaze wandering over to a sparkly, emerald green gown. The lighting made the sequins shimmer. I stood and walked over to it. “This is beautiful, huh?”

“You should try it on.”

I looked back at him. “Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Not at all. Someone will end up wearing it. Why not you?” He stood and turned so his back was facing me. “Try it on and tell me when.”

The way he’d indirectly encouraged me to disrobe made my body come alive. Foolish.

And yet I listened, my nipples hard from merely his voice, the memory of his tongue on my skin all too fresh.

After I pulled my crop top over my head, I kicked my pants off.

Slipping into the silk-lined, beaded gown felt surreal.

It was even heavier than it looked, practically weighing me down.

I began to zip the back but couldn’t get it all the way up.

“It’s safe,” I said.

Dorian turned around and smiled. “You look absolutely magnificent in that dress, Primrose.”

I didn’t need to zip it all the way up, but I was a glutton for punishment who wanted to feel his hands on me, even for a moment, and even if that would be torture.

I cocked my head. “Do you mind helping me with the zipper?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Of course.”

Dorian took a few steps toward me and I turned around, giving him my back.

The heat of his body made my skin prickle.

As his hand slid up my spine to close the zipper, I shut my eyes, imagining that he was touching me for other reasons, imagining his tongue on my body again, this time drawing a line up my back.

“Sorry if I pulled your hair,” he said as the zipper snagged for a moment near the top.

“I don’t mind my hair pulled,” I blurted, wondering instantly whether I’d meant to be so suggestive.

Dorian cleared his throat as he finished zipping me up.

I turned to face him, all too pleased by the sight of his eyes traveling the length of my body. He might not have been touching me anymore, but his eyes devoured me. If they were any indication, he was second-guessing his decision to turn me down.

I moved over to look at myself in the floor-length mirror. “I’m a little curvier than she was. Shorter, too.”

Dorian stood behind me. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Nothing the right bra and a good hem can’t fix, I suppose.” I brazenly pushed my breasts together, enjoying the way his Adam’s apple bobbed again.

He cleared his throat. “I think you should keep this gown.”

After a moment, I nodded. “Wearing it could be something to look forward to in the future.”

“Why in the future?”

“I don’t have anywhere to wear this now.” I turned to him. “But maybe if my art sells big someday, and I get invited to some fancy gala, I can wear it.”

“ When your art sells big. Not if. ”

“Don’t even think about buying my pieces out of pity, Vanderbilt.”

He laughed. “What made you think I was thinking that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you also offered to pay my tuition.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t thinking I could buy your art.”

“Oh…” Well, now I felt dumb.

“I was thinking I could probably buy you a gallery of your own.”

My mouth fell open. “Please don’t do that. And don’t ever buy my art, either. I’d never know if it was any good if someone I knew bought it. ”

“Trust me. You’re good. I get it, though. I won’t buy it if that upsets you.”

I decided to go out on a limb. “Well, now that you’ve promised you won’t buy my art, I can invite you to the Institute’s art show. Don’t feel obligated. But I figured I’d mention it, since I don’t have any family here or anyone else to ask.” I chewed my bottom lip.

“When is it?”

“Thursday night.”

He pulled up the calendar on his phone. “I’ll be there. Thank you for telling me.”

“I don’t want you going out of pity, though. Go only if you want to.”

He looked into my eyes. “I promise you. I want to go.”

“Okay.”

“What are you showing?” he asked.

“The monkeys. And also a flower series you haven’t seen.”

He smiled. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”