“And I responded.”
I grab my barely charged phone out of my purse and pull up the text string. “Uh…no, you didn’t.”
“I didn’t respond by text,” he says. “I sent you an email telling you I’d meet you at your place at nine.”
I swallow. No, I didn’t check my email. My phone is set to notify me when I get a text or Instagram message, but not when I get an email. It blows up as it is. Besides, the thing was dead anyway.
It’s nearly midnight. Has he been sitting here in my apartment since nine?
I bite my lip. Damn it, Skye. No. You do not need to feel bad about this.
“Why would you reply to a text via email?”
“Because your text came in on my computer, and I had my email open, so I replied that way.”
I’m sorry. I truly want to say the words, but I can’t.
“I find it hard to believe, Skye, that you didn’t check your email. Email is part of your livelihood these days.”
“Well, I didn’t,” I say flatly. “My phone was dead.”
“And you couldn’t find a charger somewhere?”
He isn’t wrong. “I didn’t think about it.”
“I see.” He nods, his lips trembling slightly, as if he’s trying not to smile. “Where have you been?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I told you. I had dinner with Tessa.”
“For four and a half hours?”
“What if I did?”
“Then you’d be lying,” he says, still not rising.
Even as he’s seated on my couch, his presence fills the room. Though I’m looking down at him, I feel as though I’m tiny in comparison.
“If you insist on knowing my whereabouts, I was at a club.”
“You hate clubs.”
“Tessa talked me into it.”
That gets a laugh out of him. A sarcastic, scoffing laugh. “If Tessa hasn’t talked you into clubbing by now, she never will.”
“Okay, I decided on my own.”
“Why are you lying to me?” he asks.
“I’m not. I decided to go on my own.”
“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. You first said Tessa talked you into it, and you and I both know no one talks you into anything. Fuck it all, I should know.”
He’s right. I should not have lied. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Not checking your email or lying to me?”
“Both, I guess, but more for lying.”
“What am I going to do with you?” he says, his voice dark.
I smile in an attempt to lighten the situation. “Whatever you want?”
“That is certainly tempting.” He uncrosses his legs, letting his knees part.
His bulge is apparent. I’m not sure how he kept his legs crossed as long as he did. Must’ve been uncomfortable.
My body quivers. His presence—just his presence—sends me into a tailspin. Yeah, I’m angry. Angry that he didn’t text me back. Do I have that right? He did respond, and if my phone had been on, I probably would’ve seen the email in enough time to come back here and meet him at nine.
This is my fault. No one’s fault but my own. I resisted charging the phone to avoid temptation.
No, that’s a lie.
I resisted charging my phone to avoid being controlled by Braden.
And I need to tell him that.
I clear my throat. “I didn’t find a charger, Braden. On purpose. So I wouldn’t get a text if you texted me back.”
“I see. So if I had texted you instead of emailing you, we’d still be sitting here in the same situation.”
I nod. “Yes, except that I would’ve seen your text when I plugged my phone in during my Uber ride home.”
His lips curl upward into that semi-smile that drives me into a frenzy. “So you charged your phone, and your first thought was that I hadn’t responded to your text.”
I nod again, this time numbly.
The smile stays on his face. He knows he got to me, and damned if he’s not happy as a clam about it.
“You look very pleased with yourself,” I can’t help saying.
“I’m usually pleased with myself. Surely you know that by now.”
Touché. I’m not sure what to say to that.
“Perhaps now you have an inkling of how you make me feel on the daily,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You fight me at every turn,” he says. “I almost wish I hadn’t emailed you back at all. It would serve you right.”
Tension coils through me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you attempted to manipulate me, Skye, and you already know I don’t take kindly to that.”
“I did not try to manipulate you.”
“Oh? And exactly what do you call deliberately not charging your phone so you wouldn’t see whether I responded to you?”
“That’s not manipulation, Braden. That’s me controlling my own life.”
“That’s not control, Skye. If you don’t want to respond to a text or an email, then don’t respond to a text or an email. That is control. Keeping your phone dead to avoid responding to me? That is manipulation.”