What if she could forgive me, though? What if I could let go of my hang-ups about being like my asshole dad? Could I have a life with someone? Like with Rhea?
All I know is my heart and brain don’t seem to like the plan of letting her stay mad at me so she’ll stay away. Which must be why I’m sitting here, picturing her laughing at my stupid joke, and sending me back her own message, asking for a real pic. And then I’d send her a picture of someone named Richard, because no way I’m sending a pic of my dick for real. But then she’d laugh some more and come over, and see my dick in person.
Well, would you look at that? My dick is a big fan of this little daydream, apparently. He’s even having his own little camp out to celebrate it. I’m debating whether or not I should join my dick’s camp out (aka jerk off) when the doorbell rings.
All the guys have keys, and it’s not exactly early right now. So who could be at my door?
It’s her!My dick yells with excitement. Okay, my dick doesn’t really talk, but the thought that it’s Rhea at the door does crossmymind. I was just imagining a very similar scenario, after all. But my dick and I are both just going to get used to the fact that we won’t be seeing Rhea at all anymore. No sense in hoping for something that won’t happen. Eventually, we’ll both stop thinking about her constantly. At least I hope we will.
The doorbell rings again. Whoever it is, they’re impatient.
It’s her, it’s her, she’s here to see me,my dick’s getting excited now. I hate to ruin his party by telling him that it’s probably just Johnny. I bet he got too drunk and forgot his key. And now he’s ringing the doorbell. Again.
Fuck.
Groaning with the effort, I roll out of bed and pull on a pair of jeans without bothering to do them up. I tuck my hard on away a little better, but that’s as good as it’s going to get. Whoever is at the door is just going to have to deal with seeing me shirtless, with my pants undone. That’s what you get for ringing my doorbell this late in the evening. At least I know for sure there won’t be any little kids out trying to sell me cookies or something this late.
I’m halfway down the stairs when the doorbell rings again.
“Be right there,” I yell out. “Calm down.”
Without a thought for my safety, I rush to the door and throw it open. “What the hell do you wa…” I trail off, my jaw dropping to the floor.
It’s Rhea.
My dick was right?
Fuck yeah, I was,he says.Now get her in here and strip her clothes off so I can get down to business.
“Hey.”
Told you,my dick says. I don’t appreciate his smug tone, so I tell him to shut up.
“Hi,” I say, when I manage to pick my jaw up off the floor. “Did you get the video?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. Can I come in?” She shakes her head a little and finally looks up into my face. I guess going shirtless was the right choice after all. It appears she likes what she sees, anyway.
I step out of the way and motion for her to join me inside. She kicks her shoes off into the house and walks past me. It’s not exactly like my daydream, but it’s close enough that my already hard dick somehow gets even harder. I’m extra thankful that I didn’t do up my jeans, because this hard-on pressing against my zipper would have hurt and it’s already painful enough as it is.
“So, first things first. Yes, you are a stupid asshole. You made me feel like shit when you ran away. Not ‘left quickly’. You jumped off me and bolted, and that was a really shitty thing to do.” She fixes me with a glare that would be enough to convince a convict to go legit, making me shudder and wince at the same time. “That’s not the only reason I’m here, though. I’m here because Franklin Martin caught up with me outside my apartment tonight,” Rhea says, sitting on the couch and wrapping her arms around herself. “And because your text came through at just the right time to cheer me up.”
“The guy who got you fired?” I follow and sit near her on the couch. “How does he know where you live? And why was he there? Did he hurt you? Did you call Kaden?” I’m breathing too fast and a white hot rage is filling my belly. Adrenaline courses through my body and I have too much energy to sit still. I jump up out of my seat and start pacing when I realize something. “Holy shit. This is my fault, isn’t it?”
“He did come because of the yard dick,” she admits. “But he doesn’t have any proof of who did it, and I’m not going to turn you in or anything. I’m only somewhat concerned because he said he knows the man who owns my building. He was making it sound like he could get me kicked out of my apartment.”
“Well, fuck that. You can move in here. No, this place is full of horrible memories and sadness. You can’t be subjected to that long-term.” I’m still pacing, mentally kicking myself for getting drunk and getting her into this mess. This is why I normally spend so much time actually planning my revenge missions. I can take precautions so that things like this don’t happen. Getting drunk and going off half-cocked causes nothing but problems. “I can buy us a new apartment to move into. I’m sure there are units available in Devon’s building. No, wait. You don’t want to live with me. You don’t even like me. And I can’t blame you for that. Hell,Idon’t even like me.”
“Whoa, slow down there, champ. You’re getting a little carried away, don’t you think?” She gets up and comes over to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me back to the couch to sit.
“You can’t go home tonight,” I say, releasing a huge sigh. “It’s not safe.”
“I know that.” She looks up at me. “I was hoping maybe I could use your guest room again?”
“Anytime.” I pull her into a hug. “Forever. Well, not forever,” I say, releasing the hug but holding onto her arms. “This place isn’t made for someone as good as you.”
“What do you mean? As good as me? You’re good. You’re the only person who even tried to do anything other than talking to help me feel better about getting fired. You let me stay here the night that I forgot my keys, even though you barely know me. I could have been a crazy stalker. I was wearing your picture on my shirt, remember?”
I laugh, remembering that interaction at the club. It’s still funny to me how she pulled her shirt off and held it up to my face to determine whether or not I was telling the truth.
