Entering the study, I flip on the switch and all around the room small lamps ignite, casting a warm glow. The dark-red mahogany built-ins, along with the desk to the left, look very impressive, even to me.
Wade enters the room, his eyes wide as he takes in the space. He walks over to the right wall, letting his fingertips grace the spines of many books adorning the dark mahogany shelves. He stops at a framed picture of me as a small child. I’m outside the house in the courtyard and my mom is just off to the side, smiling like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
“This room is…something else,” he says, turning his chilling gaze to me.
Everything about him screams unbearably sexy and I breathe in deeply, trying to focus on staying centered. I nod, placing my laptop on the table. “Yeah, I don’t usually come up here, but since Dad’s not home, I figured it was a good place to study. I mean, it’s even in the name of the room, you know?”
Wade chuckles, his gaze falling to the floor as a hint of a smile graces his lips.
“So, fate, huh?” I say, trying to bring us around to why we’re here.
Wade’s silver eyes flit upward to me and his lips press in tight. “Fates, actually.” He walks over, standing behind one of the leather chairs and looking out over the water. After a moment, he takes a seat and turns to face me.
I quirk an eyebrow. “Have you been researching without me, Mr. Hoffman?”
His dark eyebrows tug inward. “Well, I…” he stammers.
I chuckle. “I’m teasing. It’s fine. Okay, so what do you know?” I pull out my pen from the notebook ring and poise it, ready to take notes.
Inhaling deeply through his nose, he shrugs. “Not much. Just that the idea of fate isn’t as simple as it seems. Like we didn’t know that already…”
I look up, feeling the weight of his stare. “Wade,” I say, tilting my head to the side.
“Nevermind.” He lifts his left shoulder and tips his head. “All right, so fate isn’t a single entity. There are actually three sisters who manage the destinies of everyone.”
My eyebrows fly upward and I lean back in my chair. “Oh?”
“Right?” Wade nods. “Well, if you believe in this sorta thing, anyway. I mean, who knows if it’s true…but since we’re researching entities, I figured there must be a kernel in there somewhere.”
“Fair point,” I say, nodding, and scrawling the information down. “Okay, so, anything else?”
“Not really. That was as far as I got before I realized you’d probably want to do the research together.” Wade’s eyebrows intertwine, and he shakes his head. “I mean, not that you wanted to actually do the research with me in the first place, but…”
I sigh. “Wade…”
As if I didn’t feel like absolute crap as it is, his persistent jabs aren’t helping.
“Forget it. Anyway, the point is, I’m here to work on things as a team. You know, because that’s what partners do. Work on things. Together.” He lifts his gaze, again locking eyes with me.
His words are pointed and they do exactly what he intended they do—cut deep.
Yes, as it turns out, I’m horrible at relationships. Not just romantic ones, either. I haven’t called my mom in ages. I barely see my dad. Hell, lately, I’ve talked more with James, the housekeeper, than anyone else. Living or dead.
“Yeah, well…we better get a move on, then. I don’t have all night,” I say more tersely than I intended. Trying to ignore his digs are difficult, but if it’s part of what I have to endure to protect him, then so be it.
“Autumn, I didn’t mean…” Wade says, remorse splashing across his features.
I raise a hand between us, cutting him off. “Look, it doesn’t matter. It is what it is.”
“Yeah, but I don’t even get what this is. It’s like you’ve taken the one good thing we both had going for us and decided to bin the whole thing. I don’t get why…” Wade says, ditching any pretense of learning more about our assignment.
I look back at my laptop longingly, wishing we could just focus on that instead of the emotionally charged conversation he seems hell-bent on pulling me into.
Leaning back in the chair, I pull my feet up and use my legs as a barrier between us. “Maybe you don’t have to understand everything. Have you ever thought of that?”
His eyebrows lower and he leans in. “I beg to differ. You owe me. At least with this and after everything we’ve been through. Dru—”
My heart skips a beat and before I can think things through, I hear myself say, “Don’t call me that.”
The reaction is instantaneous. Wade’s wounded expression resurfaces and shreds any ounce of self-reserve I have left. He pushes the chair back, standing up and backing away.
I drop my legs, standing up, too. “I didn’t mean to—” I begin.
“Wow,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor as his eyebrows fly upward. “I mean, okay… I knew things were dire. I knew you were going through something here and needed some space, but I didn’t know we’d reached this place.”
“Wade, we can’t be together…” I say, fighting back tears.
“Why? Because you decided?” he demands.
I roll my head back, staring at the ceiling. A single, stupid tear trickles down my cheek and I swipe at it. “No, because I’m not right for you. Because things would never work. Because we’re so different…”
“And what?” he says, stepping forward and towering over me. Sandalwood and soap circle around me, tugging at every raw emotion left dangling.
My chin quivers, but I manage to say, “Your dad said that we…”
“Who the hell cares what my dad said? He had his one life and he fucked it up. I’m not going to let him dictate the one that I have, too. Don’t you get that?” he spits back. His eyes penetrate mine, pleading with me to understand.
“You deserve someone better than me,” I whisper.
He snorts indignantly. “Are you kidding me? Nah, you’ve gotta be kidding me… Who are you to decide whether or not there’s someone better for me out there? You don’t get that responsibility. My dad, as much as he wishes it weren’t the case…doesn’t get that responsibility. It’s mine. Do you hear me? Mine.”
As if to punctuate his statement, all of the lightbulbs in the room burst. Instinctively, I hunch forward and cover my head.
“It wasn’t me—” Wade cries out, reaching for me.
I drop my hands, surveying the room. Shards of broken bulbs are everywhere, and the only light cascading into the room comes from the far-off sunset that’s about to extinguish itself.
Wade’s eyes are wide as he backs up and turns in circles with his hands raised.
Suddenly, the same intense cold from earlier sweeps through the room. Wrapping my arms around myself, I turn around, hunting for its source.
“Do you feel that?” Wade whispers, shivering as his breath bursts out in small clouds. “It’s like the room just plunged by forty degrees.”
“Yeah, I feel it,” I say, shifting myself closer to him as I continue to monitor the space.