Two raps on the door jarred me from my reflections. I sighed and glanced out the big windows, hoping to see whatever the fuck Logan wanted now.
“You done with your phone call?” I called out huffily, but there was no answer and no sign anyone had heard me.
I tried again. “Logan, just use my key to get in. I’m not getting up to open the door for you.” A burst of pain shot between my temples at the too-high pitch of my voice. Even my own voice was getting on my nerves.
Still no answer, except for two more knocks.
Was he for real? I’d asked him to leave me alone in my meditative silence, and here he was fucking with me again.
“Go fuck yourself,” I muttered. I gritted my teeth against the flashes of pain along my ribs as I sat up, panting. I tossed the ice pack onto the coffee table and left the still-smoking cigarette on the side of the ashtray. I got to my feet with my hand pressing down hard underneath my right pec. Why the hell was my brother acting like this? He had a key, he could easily have come inside without subjecting me to the ordeal of getting up.
I hobbled over to the door and threw it open wide, ready to tear a strip off my brother.
“What the hell…” I halted when I encountered a pair of green eyes and a wild tumble of black hair. My breath caught in my chest, and an irritated, anguished sensation weighed heavily on the area as I realized I was not hallucinating and that Megan Wayne was actually there. Standing right in front of me.
What was she doing here? Who let her onto our property?
“Hey, Miller.” She gave me a once-over and grimaced when she saw my condition. “I’ll tell you why I’m here, just in case you were wondering. I drove Juliet to her Romeo because she needed a lift and also so I could take the opportunity to pay you a visit and see what sort of state you’re in. Word travels fast; the whole school is already betting on which of you is more messed up. My money was on Xavier, but looking at you now…” She cockedan eyebrow, her gaze lingering on my abs. I almost told her to quit looking at me like that. The two of us weren’t supposed to be alone in a room together. We weren’t even supposed to get near each other or exchange words. Not given our shared history.
“Thanks for informing me, but you can fuck right off. It’s the same path you came in on.” I jerked my chin toward the gate. I tried to shut the door in her face, but she blocked my attempt with both hands.
“Be nice for once in your life, Miller. You’re in no condition to play gangster right now.” She smiled and pushed her way into my pool house. Or, more specifically, into my private space, blowing past the boundary I had always imposed between the two of us.
I remained motionless in the doorway and glared at her. I didn’t want her around, getting underfoot, being where I was.
“Megan, don’t make me tell you again. Leave,” I said in a measured yet firm tone.
She peered around at the living room, like I hadn’t just told her to get the fuck out, before bending over to take my still-smoking cigarette from the ashtray and bringing it to her own lips. She turned to look at me. “Somebody got video of you guys. Everyone’s passing it around, and the comments are all about what a beast you are and how mad you must have been or whatever…” she said dismissively, waving a hand in the air. “But you…” She took another drag from my cigarette before grinding it into the ashtray and giving me her full attention. “You didn’t just get mad at him, did you? There was something else in your eyes. Something that came from here.” She touched a hand to the middle of her chest, and I shut the door, surrendering to the knowledge that she wasn’t going to leave any time soon.
I could have grabbed her by the elbow and tossed her out, but I wasn’t feeling up for it physically or emotionally just then.
“What do you want from me?” I asked in exasperation. I maintained a certain amount of space between us as I moved to the kitchen island and leaned heavily on it. I needed to lie down, but I didn’t want to show weakness in front of her.
I’d be better in a day or so, but at that moment, I just needed to shut down my body and mind for a while.
That’s how it always was after one of my angry outbursts. They were so intense that they wore me out completely, leaving me weak and helpless.
Megan studied my appearance then, but not to evaluate my bruises. She admired every angle, every clearly outlined muscle, each natural curve, and sharp line. I saw the way her eyes lit up and how she swallowed hard. And I realized she was only projecting the kind of confidence that I actually had.
She was posing as a grown woman, but I actually was a grown man and not just in bed. Someone being attractive wasn’t enough to fuck with my head. I was calculating and sly as well as malicious, and I would figure out the purpose behind her behavior one way or another. We had always ignored each other in the past, and now, suddenly, it seemed that my mental health had become her number one priority.
“Yes?” I prompted her when I noticed how her eyes got caught on my pelvic area, right around the elastic on my sweatpants. I wasn’t sure what she was studying so hard: the bulge between my legs or the pikorua on my left hip.
“It goes to the base of my cock. If you were wondering,” I taunted her, and she started before looking back up at my face. “Tragically, you’ll never get to see the whole thing.” I tugged my waistband down just a bit, giving her a peek below, then I pulled it back up over my hip and gave her a challenging grin.
I decided that prolonged discomfort would be the price she paid for invading my privacy.
“You have a great body; I already knew that,” she answered, not remotely embarrassed. “And I could have guessed your tattoo ended right about there. I like the toki better, though.” She shrugged and turned her eyes to the Maori-style tattoo on my right bicep. It was the first time she’d seen me without a shirt, so she was taking the opportunity to scrutinize me thoroughly. The tattoo talk was just misdirection, but I was too clever for that. Not even a savvy girl like her could get one over on me.
“What do you want, then?” I moved toward the couch, and she backed away from me. Was Megan afraid of me getting too close?
As I moved past her, I saw how my large frame made her go rigid, and I recalled how, once upon a time, she hadn’t been afraid of me at all. She’dconsidered me a friend, a playmate in the garden, both of us ignorant of what was about to happen.
I sat down, holding my ribs, and leaned my back against the soft fabric of the couch as I took deep breaths.
It was getting too exhausting to make any unnecessary movements.
“Can’t a friend pay another friend a polite visit?” It was my turn now to scrutinize her as she stood in front of me. She wore a pair of high-waisted black pants with a crop top and a long coat over all of it. Her voluptuous yet firm breasts were clearly visible, despite her attempt to conceal them under that awful coat. They, along with the curves of her hips, gave her a perfect hourglass silhouette. She had a woolen scarf wrapped around her throat and tall leather boots that lengthened her form.
