Dear lord fucking help me.
I raise a brow at him as he hands over the duffel bag. “Aren’t you going to put on clothes?”
“You didn’t say anything about putting on clothes,” he points out.
“Oak,” I say his name in warning and he holds up his hands in mock surrender.
As he leaves the bathroom I see that he has his clothes lying on the bed.
Thank god.
Scrambling through my duffel bag I find my comb and comb out my hair. Knowing I don’t have enough time to blow dry I just pin it up in a ponytail. My hair is damp but it will just have to do. Same goes for makeup. As much as I would love to slap some on I just don’t have the time. But I’ll at least do mascara so I appear more awake and don’t look as if I just got fucked in the shower.
I swipe on the mascara and look at myself in the mirror.
Yeah, can definitely tell I just got fucked.
Oh fucking well. Can’t really fix that, now can I?
I pull out the light wash skinny jeans with holes in the thighs and knees and my buttoned up cropped lilac cardigan.
Quickly I put on my clothes and do a little dance as I shimmy the jeans up my legs.
I psych myself up in the mirror and head out of the bedroom to hopefully not find Steven dead by the hands of Oak.
Walking down the hallway I can already feel the tension rising in the air like an ocean at high tide.
I find the both of them in the kitchen. Steven is standing primly by the stool with his briefcase strapped over his shoulder and Oak has a knife in his hand.
Oak. Has. A. Knife. In. His. Hand.
My eyes stay widely on the knife until I realize that he’s cutting up vegetables that I didn’t even knew I had in the fridge.
The tension in the air between them is so thick that the knife Oak has wouldn’t even be able to cut it.
One would need a fucking chainsaw.
Placing on a fake smile I make my presence known as I address the both of them. “Sorry I was running a bit late. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Steven smiles, and before where I could’ve perceived it as harmless I now know how sinister it really is.
And it takes everything within me not to crawl out of my skin.
Before Steven can say anything Oak says in a tone that doesn’t sound apologetic at all, “Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to keep you up.” He wears a wolffish grin that looks too good to even be mad at him.
Steven clears his throat and adjusts his tie uncomfortably. “And who are you?” He asks Oak.
Oak winks at me before answering Steven. “I’m her man.”
“Excuse me?”
Oak’s eyes are as hard as glaciers as they regard him. “I’m sure you heard me correctly the first time.”
Steven doesn’t question again but he does narrow his eyes at him.
Needing to break the tension before Oak really does kill him I turn on the hospitality like a true southern bell would. “How was your drive here, Steven? Do you want me to get a glass of water for you?”
Steven finally looks away from Oak who he was eyeing with disdain and smiles warmly at me. “My drive was fine, thank you. And the water isn’t needed.”
