She feels like home.
When she finally pulls back, Nate closes the door behind us, and she brings her palms up to cup my jaw for a moment before grasping my upper arms gently. “Let me look at you. Oh, how I’ve been dying to meet you,” she confides, and I glance up at Nate nervously as he circles to stand behind his mom. “You’re right, my boy. She’s absolutely lovely,” she tells him over her shoulder, and my face flames.
“Thank you,” I whisper, still not quite registering what’s happening right now, and I lift my hand to push my glasses up my nose just to have something to do with my hands.
“Come, sweet girl. You can help me plate the food while Nate goes and showers,” she says, linking her arm with mine and pulling me to the right. But Nathaniel speaks up.
“I’ll just shower later, after I take Evie back to her car. I’ll set the table, Mom,” he replies and walks ahead of us. Mrs. Black stops, her arm tightening through mine, and brings me to a halt, and when I look over at the woman, her mouth is dropped open, and I see tears fill her eyes. She turns the look on me then closes her mouth, blinking back the tears and letting out a little laugh.
“I don’t know what you did, sweet girl, but thank you. Thank you for healing whatever it was inside him that his father and I and countless doctors never could,” she says in a low tone, and she pulls me in for another hug that I melt into. When she stands back up, she seems to shake off the thick emotions, gives me a big grin, and pulls me along to the kitchen, which is straight out of a freaking lifestyle magazine.
Nate is washing his hands in the giant trough-style sink, and I watch him curiously, noting that he no longer seems to count inside his head. He doesn’t wash them rigorously a certain number of times front and back and between his fingers. He just… soaps up, looking over his shoulder to wink at me, rinses them after several seconds, and then turns off the faucet, snatching off a random number of paper towels instead of counting them out like he did once before at my house, and dries them, tossing the towels into the garbage on his way to pull open the silverware drawer. And then he disappears into what must be the dining room.
Mrs. Black chuckles softly beside me. “My water bill thanks you too,” she whispers, and it startles a snort out of me. As if these people have to worry about their bills being high. They look like they could afford to run the Niagara Falls.
Twenty minutes later, I’m next to Nathaniel at a six-seated dining room table, his mom and dad across from us. I was surprised at the intimate setting, expecting the table to stretch for a mile with a countless number of seats, and Nate picked up on it without me saying a word.
“This is our family dining room. The formal has a table that seats forty,” he informed me, and I pulled my lips between my teeth before whispering to him, “Of course it does.”
“So, Evelyn,” his dad says, laying his napkin across his lap and turning his plate a fraction of an inch, a move so similar to something I’ve seen Nathaniel do with his pencils and books that it’s endearing if I were to ignore the fact that it’s an actual disorder that causes him to need things to be just right. “Nate has told us so much about you—all of it good, so don’t worry.” He says it sincerely instead of flippantly, as if my anxiety is something Nathaniel also informed him of, and he wants to reassure me before I have time to overthink it.
I smile appreciatively at him, instantly warming to him. “He’s told me wonderful things about the two of you too. Yet he seemed to leave out the part that you knew about me,” I reply, turning my head and lifting a brow at him. “Although, I have to admit I’m grateful he did.”
Nate leans over and kisses my cheek before turning back to his plate, and everyone digs in. It’s all way more relaxed than I imagined it would be; everyone has table manners, but it’s not the scene out of The Princess Diaries I thought I would be stepping into, where I’d play the role of the clueless Mia while she tries to fake her way through using the proper utensils. There’s only one fork, one spoon, and a steak knife next to each of our plates. There’s even a community butter knife set on top of the big plastic tub of butter in the center of the table. I stare at it for a moment, finding it weird when we’re sitting in the largest estate in Black Mountain. Shouldn’t the butter be in perfect little pallets in some fancy dish? Especially in a house full of men who literally fear imperfection?
“My momma was a nurse, and my dad was a miner, sweet girl. This house is a mix of my meager beginnings and my Nathaniel’s fancy upbringing,” Mrs. Black tells me, easily reading my unspoken wonderings.
I smile at her across the table. “That has to get pretty confusing, in a house with men who all have the same name.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “No, Dad is Nathaniel, and son is Nate. It just makes life a lot easier around here,” she explains.
“Noted,” I say, relaxing a bit knowing she came from the same humble background as I did. “I am curious though. How…” I side-eye Nate. “How did you first learn about me exactly?”
“Well,” she begins, “at first there were subtle differences in Nate himself. He started complimenting me on things he never had before—”
“Sorry, Mom,” Nate inserts, sounding guilty.
“Oh, hush, honey. What teenage boy is going to remember to tell his mother how great her cooking is every day? It was just a nice and noticeable difference that just suddenly began out of nowhere. And then more obvious things, like his OCD symptoms lessening day by day,” she explains, and I nod, knowing what she means by that. “And then—” Her voice rises on the word, and she smiles over at her husband, who winks at her as he chews. “—the insurance claim letter came from a Dr. Neil Walker in a town an hour away from here.”
My eyes widen, and I look over at Nate, who just chuckles. “Yeah, didn’t even think about that, baby. I am only eighteen, after all,” he murmurs, and I choke on my water I just lifted to my mouth. He laughs, rubbing my back, and I swat at him.
Mrs. Black is smiling ear-to-ear when I look up again. “So when we asked Nate about it, he started spilling everything.”
“Everything?” I squeak, turning wide eyes to Nate then back to her.
“Everything!” his mom says loudly through a giggle at the same time Nate whispers so only I can hear, “Not everything, mouse.” And I relax a bit.
“He said he had met someone he had real feelings for. Which alone would’ve made my day, seeing as our son has always claimed not to have any.” She shakes her head at him. “And then he told us about your own anxiety disorder and how medications and such never worked for you, just like him, but this one therapist you’ve been seeing for years used a method that finally succeeded in helping you. He said he agreed to go with you to check him out, and might I say, whatever that man is doing in that office is miracle work. Hell, I might have to go check him out myself!” she chirps, and I choke on the roll I just took a bite of.
“Sweet girl, you sure seem to be having a hard time eating. You feeling all right? What happened back in the assistant principal’s office isn’t still messing with your nerves, is it? I get a nervous belly too, but I promise you’ve got nothing to worry about as far as that stuff goes. We won’t let anything happen to the woman who has changed our son’s life for the better,” Mrs. Black says, and my heart warms at her caring tone. I just can’t tell her that no, I don’t have a nervous belly; I was just startled by the image of Nate’s parents showing up at Club Alias.
Not that Doc would ever let that happen. He’d never reveal the form of therapy that’s truly working on Nate and me, except to maybe disclose that it’s technically systematic desensitization, but nothing about the BDSM side of things.
“I truly appreciate that, Mr. and Mrs. Black. This is my dream job, and I… I didn’t mean to get involved with one of my students. He just—”
“Oh, we know, Evie. He told us how he wooed you until you finally could no longer resist his charms and agreed to go on one secret date with him. He promised that if you didn’t want
to see him again, he would leave you alone and never tell anyone about it at school,” she interrupts, and I slowly turn my head to meet the eyes of the scoundrel next to me as his nostrils flare, mischief filling his eyes as he tries to hold back his laughter. Mrs. Black continues on. “I can tell you right now, honey. No one can resist the charms of the Black men. Trust me, I tried.”
Mr. Black clears his throat. “But that’s a story for another day, my love,” he inserts, finally getting a word in with his sweet but chatty wife.
I face forward once again.
“Anyway,” his mom says, seeming only to be able to stay silent long enough to take a bite of food and swallow it. God, how I love her already. “He told us about you. At first, it was just things like what you looked like, how you were a few years older than him—which I was actually grateful for. The girls around here that are his age are spoiled little bitches.” I squeak out one startled laugh as Mr. Black scolds her gently, but she waves him off. “You know they are, Nathaniel. He said that you were a librarian and owned your own home in the town on the insurance claim. Told us about your parents.” Her voice is low for that last part, and I see sympathy in her eyes. “Yet it wasn’t the things he was telling us about you, but how he was saying them, like you were this angel sent to him, and he was so… just… smitten.” She ends with a dreamy smile. “And let me tell you, I have only seen one other man in this entire family ever be smitten.” She turns toward her husband and makes a goofy face at him.
“Definitely smitten kitten, my love,” he admits unashamedly, and he leans over to give a soft and quick kiss to her lips. I feel my face get warm but not out of embarrassment at their PDA. I’ve been a member of Club Alias long enough to not give one flip about any type of PDA. I feel warm because of the love I see between the two of them, and how he’s looking at her the way Nate always looks at me.
“He just failed to mention that you are, in fact, the librarian at the school,” she adds, and my face does flush with embarrassment then, since they know exactly what we were doing in the school library. At my blush, she giggles, reaching out for the butter knife and pulling the tub toward her. “So how about… my only request… is if you two want a little alone time, make sure it’s in the privacy of your home and not where anyone could just… stumble upon you in a compromising position.” She quotes Mr. Moran’s awkwardness and grins over at Mr. Black, and if a hole would open up and swallow me beneath the table, I’d gladly dive in headfirst.
I clumsily agree to her request, with a silent addendum about places where people have been legally sworn to secrecy.
Chapter 22
Nate
Today feels different.
After all the excitement from yesterday evening, from the moment Evie surprised me in the hallway, to the mind-blowing sex we had in the library, to getting caught and sent to the principal’s office, right down to the moment after we ate, when my crazy mom hugged her goodbye and wouldn’t let her go for a full minute, making Evie promise she’ll make it at least a weekly habit to come over for dinner before she released her to me, the whole world just feels… different.
There’s a lightness inside me, but at the same time, I feel fuller. Like I’m complete. And as I sit in the library watching my woman flit around putting away books and helping other students, I realize I never once checked my watch today to count down the minutes. It’s like, once everything between us was out in the open, I felt secure, secure in our relationship, so I didn’t have that urgency to get to her and see for myself she still wanted me. I still looked forward to seeing her as much as I ever did, it was just… different. A less maniacal necessity.
It didn’t take long for the entire senior class to hear about what Lindy had seen. She wasted no time spreading it through the cheerleading squad, who told the football team, and then it spread exponentially from there. So when I got to school, that’s all anyone wanted to talk to me about.
Good. Let the rumor spread to the ends of the earth. Let everyone know that the hot librarian at our school is fucking mine.
I was actually able to concentrate in class; therefore, I didn’t have any schoolwork to finish up in study hall. So in order to keep from following Evie around like a lost puppy, I sink back in my chair and crack open the latest Stephen King novel, which she had sitting in my spot at the table when I came in. I looked up to find her watching me when I spotted it, and it took everything in me not to stride over to the circulation desk and kiss her for the thoughtful gift.
Which brings me to now, two chapters in and tuning out the chatter around me. Lindy had been smart enough not to sit next to me, but she’s still at my table, just at the far end. I don’t hear exactly what she says, but I hear her mention Evie’s name, and I look up to where my woman is at the circulation desk once again, and I see she’s listening to the bitch at my table.
That’s when I decide to tune in to what’s being said.
“…could have anyone he wants, including me, and he chooses her?” She scoffs snottily. “I just don’t get it. She’s not even that pretty.”
My nostrils flare, and my eyes turn to Lindy, who’s facing Jamie beside her. Jamie has the decency to look uncomfortable as she glances over at me, but Lindy keeps on running her mouth, not realizing I’ve started paying attention to their one-sided conversation.
“I mean, what’s she got that I don’t have? Who is she compared to me? What makes that… nerdy freak so special?” Lindy asks, my eyes drilling into her, and suddenly the room goes red.
But just as my legs go tense and my chair loudly scoots back across the floor, an echoing, startling bang reverberates throughout the library, causing the girls at the table to scream and jump back in their seats. My eyes turn away from the stupid cunt on the end to see my woman directly in front of me, slightly bent at the waist as her hands brace on the table. The sound had obviously come from her slamming the giant hardcover tome down on the table. She’s staring at Lindy with a dark look I’ve never seen on her beautiful face before, and I’m not ashamed to admit my cock goes instantly hard.
“I may not be some supermodel,” Evelyn says, and if it weren’t for being stunned immobile by the tone and the image she makes, I’d interrupt that self-deprecating sentence. Instead, I watch my woman speak in a way I never thought she had in her. “I might not drive a fancy car, or live in a mansion, or spend thousands of dollars on a pair of shoes.”
Lindy comes out of her shock and haughtily crosses her arms over her chest, making a stupid-looking duck face.
“I might have never been a cheerleader, or popular, or the girl everyone wanted to smash,” Evie continues, and Trenton whistles next to me. “But I am not a freak,” she says low, her chin tipping down as she stares at Lindy over the rim of her glasses. “And I’m proud of what I am, Ms. Jones.”
Lindy tries to look like she’s unaffected, but I can tell by the way her fingers grip her bicep that she’s embarrassed someone is calling her on her shit for once, and in front of everyone, no less. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?” she questions, putting extra attitude behind it to hide her discomfort.
Evelyn smiles darkly then stands up straight, gesturing to all the bookcases surrounding us, her eyes following her hand. “I… am a librarian,” she answers boastfully. And then her hands come back down on the table as she meets Lindy’s eyes once more. And just when I think that’s the end of her speech, she lifts a finger and points directly at me. “And I. Belong. To him.”
Out of my peripheral vision, I see Lindy’s jaw drop at the same time Trenton slaps me on my back, but it’s the stunning creature before me, who spins gracefully and sashays back to the circulation desk who has my full and undivided attention. And just to make it perfectly clear, as if there was any doubt left in anyone’s mind, I call loudly across the room.
“I love you, Ms. Richards!”
I see her blush from here. “I love you too, Mr. Black.”
And then the bell rings.
Chapter 23
I see Lindy gather her things quickly and storm out of the library, everyone else chattering quietly about what just happened. As all the other students file out of the room, Nate pushes in all the chairs as always then puts his hands in his pockets and strolls up to my desk. I meet him from the other side, the three feet of wood still separating us. My adrenaline is still running high after the confrontation, but I can’t hide the smile on my face.
He leans down, propping his elbows on the desk, taking my hand between his. “The Mummy, Evie?”
I giggle. “I’ve always wanted to use that line.”
He grins. “Funny you’re a librarian named Evie. I never thought about it before.”
“It’s my all-time favorite movie. She’s the whole reason I ever wanted to become one in the first place,” I confide, shivering when he runs a fingertip down the center of my palm before lifting it to his lips and placing a kiss there.
“You know, that movie came out before I was even born.” He lifts a brow.
I snort. “You say that like I was that far behind you.”
“I’m just sayin’,” he replies, standing to his full height. “Only one more day.”
My breath catches at the heat in his eyes. “Only one more day,” I echo breathlessly, knowing that tomorrow is Friday and another weekend begins. And all the things he could possibly plan to do to me fill my mind.
“See you later, little mouse,” he murmurs, kissing my knuckles before backing away.
All I do is nod, unable to speak as he gives me such a hungry and promising look.
A Lesson in Blackmail: Black Mountain Academy / a Club Alias Novel Page 16
