Wolf.e: A Dark MC Romance
Wolf.e: Chapter 2

Evan squeezes my hand in the back of the limo, the same familiar comfort he always offers washes over me.

“You look lovely,” he says, taking in the way I have my long black hair sculpted into a high twist. I left some pieces out and curled them into loose waves just the way he likes and I’m wearing his favorite dress. It’s not mine but he likes the structured, navy A-line that falls slightly off the shoulders and accentuates my pale skin. He says it’s pretty but leaves something to the imagination.

I smile up at him, always wishing for more. More words, more touching, more passion. I squeeze his hand back, forcing myself to be positive. We need this night. For the last year he’s been so busy with school, he’s been more distant than normal. Do I wish he hugged me or kissed me when he came in the door tonight? Sure. Pinned me up against the wall and made love to me with some semblance of hunger or need before his shoes even came off? Absolutely. But that is not Evan’s style. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had cravings for a man who wants me so much he finds it impossible to keep his hands to himself. When my friends craved the good guy in the movies we watched growing up, I secretly always wanted the villain with his hand around the main character’s throat. I want a man to look at me like he can’t wait to touch me at any given time of the day.

When I was young, I was told that sex was a sin unless it was with the man I was married to, so I knew my desires would never be met, therefore there was no harm in fantasizing about a man like that.

Reality has shown me that men like that don’t seem to exist in the real world anyway. At least not in my world.

Lovely is as close to a compliment as Evan ever gives me but I know he means it. After two years, the niceties come a little less, but Evan is always kind. I should be grateful to have someone like him in my life. He’s always steady and reliable and we get along very well. We always have.

Just thinking about him wanting me at all has me clenching my thighs together. I try to remember how long it’s been for us and I’m sad to say I think it was his birthday a couple months ago.

“You okay?” he asks when I sigh.

I look up at him in the dark. “Perfect,” I lie before turning my glance back out to downtown Atlanta passing by my window.

When I get frustrated with the lack of time we spend together, he reminds me he’s just trying to secure our future. I secretly hope an engagement is just what we need to rekindle a spark between us. Visions of a white dress and all our friends surrounding us fill my head, followed by visions of him burying his face under it.

God, I need to make sure we have sex tonight.

Evan and I may not have a ton of passion right now but we’re going to create a nice life together and that should be all I want. I can see it all now—the white picket fence, him running a law practice and me maybe having my own shop or consulting with a design firm. Hopefully, we’ll have two or three kids because I’m sure after Evan is over the stress of taking the Bar he’ll change his mind on that too.

“You seem quiet,” he says.

I glance at him. “Just curious to see what you have up your sleeve tonight.” I grin but feel a little guilty for not telling him about losing my job. I quickly shoo it away and forgive myself. I want this night to be memorable. I don’t want to make him worry or ruin the experience or stress him out causing him to change his mind.

I’ll tell him tomorrow.

I have talked myself off the ledge all afternoon. I have three years’ experience and a design degree under my belt now as well as a surprisingly glowing letter of reference from my slimy ex boss. I’m sure I can find something else in no time, even if it’s outside my field.

I reach over in the dark and wonder how much longer of a drive we have. I slide my hand from Evans suit clad knee, up the inside of his strong thigh, maybe we can have a little limo fun—

“Babe,” Evan grabs my hand before it reaches anywhere near his cock. “We’re almost there.”

He places my hand back in my lap and my heart sinks.

“Of course,” I say. “I just miss you.” I hate how pathetic that sounds.

“Aww, Brinley. I miss you too.”

Not I can’t wait to get my hands on you, or any kind of touch at all. Be grateful, I remind myself.

Sixteen minutes later—more than enough time to get some back-of-the-limo sex in, especially when it’s been so long—we pull up to Evan’s favorite restaurant. I should’ve known this is where we’d come. Evan was bred to throw money around and this place is expensive. His family has always been well-off, and he came into a substantial trust fund when he turned twenty-five last year. My favorite place, on the other hand, is a little bistro on Virginia Avenue, a lot more reasonably priced, quiet, and rustic. The food is authentic Italian and incredible.

“Come on, babe, I got us a special table.” He smiles down at me with all his boyish charm, and I can’t help but smile back. He bends down and kisses my cheek. I remind myself of all the effort he’s gone to tonight—renting the limo, the flowers he brought me, the suit he’s wearing.

We turn some heads as we enter. I’m often told Evan resembles a young Brad Pitt. He’s the quintessential dream man every woman wants to end up with—rich, kind, handsome, going places.

We’re seated at the nicest table at Le Cadran Solaire. With a three hundred and sixty-degree view of the Atlanta skyline from the top floor, the picture outside the floor-to-ceiling window is stunning, I’ll admit that.

We chat casually as we drink wine and order appetizers. The meal is pleasant, but I can’t help the sinking feeling that Evan doesn’t seem appropriately nervous for someone who is about to propose. He talks about all the changes happening around his office, our friends, and random gossip. Again, it isn’t exactly proposal worthy as the night wears on.

By the end of our dinner, Evan orders dessert with the sweetest smile on his face. Cheesecake—my favorite—and champagne.

“Brinley, you know how much I appreciate you,” he starts as he grabs my hands across the table.

My heart rate accelerates. This is it. How will he do it? Glass with a diamond ring in it? Hell, I wouldn’t care if he gave me a ring made of twine.

I’m about to get engaged to the kind of man my parents always wanted for me. I just wish they were here to see it.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been distant lately. I’ve been under so much pressure with the Bar coming up.”

I place my hand on top of his and smile. “I know, and it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I promise once I pass and this next chapter is closed, we’ll have more time to spend together. I need to know if you want to move onto the next step with me, and if you do it’s going to require us to be open and honest and willing to sacrifice a little.”

I smile. “I mean, I’ve always envisioned moving forward with you,” I trail off, slightly confused by his lead up.

“It won’t be easy, but if you stick with me through this, we can talk about taking the next step after that. If by the time I’m all settled you’ve sorted out your career and got your promotion, maybe at that point you’ll have even moved out of that magazine and into something a little more prominent.”

I flinch but smile through it. Evan has always considered my career choice to be more of a hobby. Those were his words. I hate that he looks at it like it’s less because it’s a creative job. In the spirit of not ruining this night, I let it go.

He smiles wide, looking gorgeous.

“Okay, sweetheart, here it goes.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been offered a position with Foster Grant and Spire in New York. It’s a year-long contract and may be extended after that,” he says, beaming with excitement as he mentions a very prominent firm.

Wait, what?

“I-I’m sorry?” I ask in shock as our dessert and champagne arrives, no diamond in sight.

He smiles even wider, oblivious that a thousand imaginary hearts just broke into pieces and shattered at my feet.

“Yes, I told you this was life changing. It’s a huge opportunity for me,” he says.

Not for us, for him.

I pull my hand away and take a sip of—okay, I chug—half the glass of champagne as I listen to him tell me how prestigious this is and once his year-long contract is up, he’ll be able to come back here and have any job in Atlanta he wants.

“You’ve already accepted this?” I ask, my voice cracking.

His smile drops. “Of course, I thought you’d be happy for me, this is a big step. Like I said, life changing.”

“Evan, you didn’t think to consult me before you committed us to moving across the country?”

Evan begins to shake his head, something that almost resembles shock lines his face.

“I thought… Babe, I thought you’d just stay here; I know you’re up for that promotion and I could fly back every other weekend.”

WHAT?

“Evan… I…” I have no words. How stupid of me to assume this night was about us, a proposal. Our future. Something to look forward to. Evan is the type of man my parents always hoped I’d marry. To hear he isn’t even thinking about it is… well, devastating.

“Plus, Brinley, I’ll really need to focus when I’m there. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you stayed here. We’re both adults, we can handle a little long distance,” he adds.

I recoil, leaning back in my chair.

I can’t stop my eyes from filling up, and no matter how hard I try to stop the words from bubbling up, they come anyway.

“I thought you were going to propose to me tonight.” I laugh like a lunatic through my tears, knowing just how pathetic and needy I sound, also knowing how much Evan hates when I cry. He dubs that kind of emotion dramatic.

Evan stares at me, and I feel the distance between us like someone just dropped a thousand-pound weight onto the table. We’re on two completely different planets here and I have no idea how I didn’t see it before now.

“Brinley, I—You’re beautiful and sweet, but marriage just… it isn’t on my radar right now. My career has to come first, and you’d have to… establish yourself more before my family would accept… that.”

Ouch.

“By that, you mean me,” I say quietly, using my napkin to dab at my tears. “I’m not good enough for you, you mean,” I guffaw before sucking back the rest of my champagne and refilling it to the brim.

“Babe, you’re making a bit of a spectacle in front of the entire restaurant,” he leans in, speaking quietly. I barely notice because I’m spiraling.

What am I doing with this man? How did I not see this? Everything comes crashing down on me all at once. We don’t have a relationship. We’re… roommates. Really good roommates.

I down the other half of the glass and that’s when it fully hits me. I’m sick of all of it. Sick of bosses who think they can push me around for three years, a selfish boyfriend who thinks I’m going to just wait around while he lives his dream and I get better at ‘being better’ for him. Because who Brinley Rose Beaumont is, apparently isn’t good enough for Evan Radcliffe the second.

I stand and look down at him, every fiber of my being telling me to be strong and that this isn’t absolutely crazy. For once in my life, I don’t take the time to overthink. I follow my gut.

“I’m not willing to wait around while you decide if I’m good enough for you or not.” I shrug, saying the words barely above a whisper. “So, I guess what I’m saying is… good luck in New York…” One fat tear slides down my cheek as I watch the years between us evaporate.

“Come on, Brinley, babe,” Evan says, leaning back in his chair, but there’s no real fight in him. He doesn’t even stand.

I turn on my heel using every bit of confidence I have to keep walking. I hope he’ll follow, I hope he’ll tell me he’s ready to give me a future, but by the time I’ve made it to the lobby and onto Atlanta’s streets, it’s obvious he isn’t. I pull my phone out to get myself an Uber.

While I wait, fighting back more tears, I realize four things. I have no job, I’m about to have no place to live, I wasted a completely good piece of cheesecake, and this entire day officially sucks.