There was nothing wrong with finding pleasure in someone you never knew you would.
I had to shake myself out of the pit of depression I had somehow fallen into.
It wasn’t like I had been broken up with. I wasn’t wishing hatred on all men, holding up a ball of angst against the entire male population.
In reality, I was the one who had disappeared.
But, alas, the ice cream in my freezer sounded far more enticing.
Much, much more enticing than the dozens of texts and calls from Aureo on my phone. Ghosting people may not be recommended, but man, was it better than facing reality.
My shoulders slumped forward as a harsh knock sounded at my door.
Go. Away.
I hated when people showed up unannounced. It was almost worth it to purchase a snarky doormat for anyone who dared disturb me and my pessimistic brain. I’m sure there had to be a small business who sold one that said something along the lines of,Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo, This Door is Not for You, with a poisoned skull symbol right on top.
Hell, I would’ve sold them myself if I knew how.
I was almost positive it would have become a best-seller.
Deciding to keep up with my never-ending pessimistic streak, I shouted as loud as possible, “Phoebe isn’t here. Please leave a message!”
An answering, pounding knock set my teeth on edge.
“I’m in the middle of watching the most grotesque, CNC, rape-filled porn! Please return at a later date when I am not otherwise preoccupied.”
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
“Fucking hell,” I snapped angrily, jolting as whoever’s fist nearly punched a hole through my door. I threw the blanket off of me and stomped to the entrance of my apartment, practically moving to the door like an annoyed grandmother who is about to throw a shoe at someone’s head. Swinging the door open, I spit, “Listen, buddy. I just want to watch my fuck–”
“Oh, I heard,” Aureo said, cutting me off and glowering down at me from his tall frame. “CNC porn, eh? I knew you liked it rough, but I didn’t peg you for that one. I can always try it, though. I’m down to try anything once.”
My mouth snapped shut as my back was forced ramrod straight, shoulders pinched back.
He wasn’t wearing his mask.
Oh, it was a personal visit then.Fuck.
And yet, my legs closed together from instant sex flashbacks anyway.
My eyes raked down his form, taking in every piece of him that I possibly could with what was visible. He wore dark jeans over his leather biker boots, though they hugged his thighs more than they had the right to, and wore nothing more than a black t-shirt with his thumbs now tucked in his jean pockets. His shorter-length hair was wild, showcasing how he definitely rode here on his bike, and the snake tattoo I had admired since I was a teenage girlshowed itself on his bicep from the way he was holding his arms.
I practically had to stop myself from drooling.
Not happening.
“You know, you could have punched a damn hole in my door with how hard you were pounding on it,” I glowered, turning around to look at my front door and make sure there actually wasn’t a hole waiting for me.
There wasn’t one. Damnit.
I wanted an excuse to kick him for making me an emotional mess.
Turning back to him, I glared with one eyebrow perfectly poised, waiting for him to speak, only to be met with silence.
