[EVE]
What's wrong with him?
The thought crossed my mind as I observed Cole from the corner of my eye. He seemed . . .
off
.
One moment, it felt as though he might lunge toward me, a storm of intensity blazing in his gaze. The next, he was pulling away, as if physically restraining himself from crossing some invisible line.
It was confusing, maddening even, and I couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his head.
Then my gaze dipped lower, drawn by something I shouldn't have been looking at.
My breath hitched, and my cheeks burned as I saw the undeniable evidence of his struggle.
The tight fabric of his pants did little to hide the hardness pressing against the zipper, straining as though it might break free at any moment. My heart skipped a beat, my mind momentarily blank as the realization hit me like a tidal wave.
He wanted me.
Heat rushed to my face, and I quickly tore my gaze away, guilt and something else—something warmer—spreading through me like wildfire. But no matter how much I tried to pretend I hadn't noticed, the image lingered, searing itself into my thoughts.
It wasn't the first time I had caught a glimpse of his cock. I'd felt it before—brief moments, fleeting touches that spoke volumes without a single word. And every time it happened, a fiery ache stirred deep within me, primal and raw, as if my body had a mind of its own, yearning for him in ways I couldn't suppress.
My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I quickly moved to join him at the table, my hands gripping the back of the chair to steady myself. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, charged with an energy that seemed impossible to ignore. Enjoy more content from empire
I dared to glance at him again. He was standing by the counter, his jaw tight, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge. His shoulders were tense, his breathing shallow, and his eyes—oh, his eyes—were dark shades of icy blue as they flicked toward me, burning with a heat that made my pulse quicken.
And yet, he didn't move. He stood there, utterly still, as though he were fighting an internal battle that left him on the verge of losing.
The realization sent a thrill of something indescribable coursing through me. I wasn't afraid, not of him. But the intensity of what he was holding back—it was overwhelming.
I sat down quickly, my heart pounding as I tried to compose myself. My fingers trembled as I tucked a strand of damp hair behind my ear, trying to act as though everything was normal when nothing about this moment felt normal.
Cole finally joined me, setting a plate in front of me with deliberate care. His movements were stiff, controlled, as though even this small task required all his focus.
"Let's eat," he said, his voice low and gravelly, the sound sending shivers down my spine.
I managed a small nod, daring not to speak lest my voice betray the swirl of emotions inside me.
As we sat in silence, the tension between us crackled like a live wire, unspoken but impossible to ignore. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, a pull that neither of us could seem to escape.
I stole another glance at him, my chest tightening as I took in the rigid line of his jaw, the slight furrow in his brow. He looked as though he was barely holding himself together, every ounce of his control focused on maintaining the fragile distance between us.
"Eve," Cole finally broke the silence.
I turned to him, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. "What is it?" What's he going to say now?
Without a word, he reached into his pocket and handed me a sleek, elegant invitation card. The weight of the envelope, the gilded edges, and the faint scent of fresh pine tree lingering on it all spoke of something significant.
Curious, I carefully opened it, my eyes scanning the embossed text inside. My heart nearly stopped. How could I have forgotten this?
It was an invitation to Cole and Lina's upcoming birthday party—a grand affair to be held on a yacht, no less. Of course, it would be extravagant. When wasn't it with them?
"I hope you can come," Cole said softly, his intense gaze fixed on me. There was something in his tone—an unspoken plea hidden beneath his usual calm demeanor.
I slid the card back into the envelope, trying to compose myself. Clearing my throat, I said nonchalantly, "I'll take a rain check. You know, with New Year's and all, it's such a busy time."
He tilted his head, his brow lifting in mild amusement. "It's a holiday."
"Exactly. I might already have plans."
"I checked. You don't."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Well, I could always make some."
His lips curved into a knowing smirk. "You won't."
"I might remember that Sinclair and Victor are hosting a Christmas Eve gathering," I countered, desperate to wriggle out of this corner.
"They're coming to our birthday party," he replied with a matter-of-fact tone.
I pressed my lips together, running out of excuses. Cole wasn't just persistent; he was immovable. And the way he was looking at me now—with those deep, piercing eyes that always seemed to see straight through me, I couldn't think of any excuses.
"Why does it matter so much if I come?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
He leaned a little closer, the air between us thickening. "Because I want you there, Eve. It wouldn't feel right without you. And . . . it would make me very happy . . ."
His words, simple as they were, carried an unexpected weight. My chest tightened, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. The sincerity in his gaze was disarming, and the closeness of his presence made it impossible to deny the pull between us.
I swallowed hard, glancing down at the invitation in my hands. It wasn't just a party—it was a moment, a memory he wanted me to be a part of. And despite my attempts to deflect, I realized I didn't want to miss it either.
"Fine," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll come."
The faintest smile touched his lips, warm and gentle, and for a second, I swore the world around us faded away.