"Is that really your sister?" Blythe asks, putting her plate in the dishwasher.
"Stepsister."
"Is she dating your roommate? Is she okay?"
"No."
I don't specify which question I'm answering, hoping she'll figure out that I don't want to have the conversation, but…no to both, really.
Blythe rolls her eyes. "Okay, well…I guess I'll see you around."
"See ya."
I give her my back and leave the room, dropping down on the couch beside Dax, not looking up from my phone until I hear the door close.
"Dude, why the hell would you ask that girl to stay for breakfast?"
I shrug. "I wanted to inconvenience the help."
"You really fucking hate that girl, don't you?"
"Yep."
"I mean, you must," he continues. "You had a girl with an ass like that and a bad attitude living in your house, and you never tried to fuck it out of her. I would have had her on her back the first fucking day."
He doesn't get it, and that's okay. He knows Saige and her mother ruined my life, but the concept of revenge doesn't mean much to someone who can pay to make their problems disappear.
His dad is a Black American banker who made his money on Wall Street. He fell in love with a French art dealer inParis, moved to Toronto before ending up in Aurora Cove, and now their family is practically Canadian royalty. Not that I resent him for it—I've benefitted from it more than once. I'm benefitting right now with how little I pay to live in his house.
"I kind of miss her already; maybe I'll make her come back later and do my laundry," Dax says.
"That's not a bad idea." I picture Saige handling my cum-soaked t-shirt, and blood rushes to my dick. This is becoming inconvenient. I'll get used to having her around and at my beck and call soon, and it'll even out.
Hopefully.
"You don't have class this morning?"
"Not until eleven. You?"
"Yeah, I have almost all of my classes today. I have the art class I'm not supposed to be taking, marketing,andstatistics. Nolan and I are going to go down to the rec center later and shoot around if you want to come?"
I glare at him over the top of my phone.
"Settle down. Just thought I'd ask."
"Don't ask again."
Dax shrugs. "I'll probably ask again. Oh, and the new TVs will be here today. See ya."
Dax leaves, and I head upstairs, stripping down to wash the sex off before class, but I can't get the image of Saige holding that cum-soaked shirt out of my head. My dick pulses, hanging painfully hard between my legs as I stand under the spray of the shower. I give in, fucking my fist until I come, but into a towel, not down the drain, so I can add it to the laundry basket.
I don't remember the last time I had this much fun.
I walk into psychology a little before eleven, taking a seat in the back of the lecture hall before it fills with freshmen.
I'm not fucking happy to repeat the class, but at least this time, Miles isn't here to fuck it up for me.
I take out my laptop, but then it's like I can sense her. I look to my left just as she struts down the aisle to the front of the room, long brown waves cascading down her back, wearing a long-sleeved black top and a pair of shorts so small, I could probably see everything if she bent over.
