Step-Lover

“Do your services come with free coffee ordering?”

I look up from the pile of paperwork I’m sorting through to see Blade at the door, leaning against the frame. He’s shirtless and has a towel thrown over his shoulder. Holy hot damn.

“Ah, no, I’m not your secretary.”

I glare back down at the paperwork. Blade doesn’t get the hint because he just stands there, staring at me.

“What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? What’s freaking wrong? Let me start. I went on a date, yes a date, with some guy from school. He seemed nice. He asked me out. I decided hey, why not, Blade has moved on so should I. He was a jerk who tried to go for a boob grab letting me in the damned car. Then halfway through dinner, I got my period. So now I’m cranky and violated.

“Nothing,” I mutter.

“Hey,” he says and I look up. “What’s wrong?”

He is not going to leave until I tell him, and I really need to get back to work. I sigh. “I went on a shitty date. That’s all.”

Silence.

I glance over to see he’s staring at the wall with a tight jaw. Oh boy.

“And?” he grunts, not looking at me.

“And nothing. It was shit.”

“You’re in a bad mood because it was shit? I doubt it.”

“I have my period.”

He turns back to me and his eyes soften some. “So? What happened on the date?”

“He boob grabbed me,” I huff, dropping the papers. “Before we even got into the car.”

Blade’s face goes hard again. “Boob grabbed?”

“Yeah,” I say, putting my hands over my boobs. “Boob grab. Went in for the ladies and gave them a wake up call.”

Now Blade’s jaw looks as if it’s going to explode.

“And did this prick do anything else?”

“He was just a jerk.” I sigh, slumping. “I seem to attract them.”

Silence.

I jerk my head up. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“No,” he says. “You’re right to say that. And you’re right to want someone who can take care of you properly. He’s out there.”

Then he turns and storms out.

Well, good morning Captain Broody. It should be a long day.

~*~*~*~

I drag my feet out of Chemistry, so damned brain-fucked. This is proving to be mentally challenging. Add working for Blade in and it’s just a jumble of torture. I’ve been at it two weeks now, and mixing the two isn’t as easy as it sounds. I go to class, then I go to work, or the other way around. I’ve finally started making a dint in Blade’s paperwork, and it’s been hell. The money has been worth it though.

I ignore everyone as I walk down the halls towards the exit. Home. Shower. Sleep. I’m just about across the lot when I hear my name being called. I turn slowly to see Yates running towards me. I have managed to avoid him, but clearly he’s finally caught up to me. I think he was away for a week or two—who knows? Who freaking cares? I want my bed.

“Hey, Aria,” he says, coming to a stop. “How’re you doing?”

“Great,” I mutter.

“Listen, I’ve been trying to talk to you a while now but haven’t had the chance. I wanted to know if we could have a coffee and just clear the air.”

“Maybe some other time,” I say. “I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, right, of course.”

God, he’s giving me puppy-dog eyes.

“How about tomorrow?”

His eyes light up. “Great.”

I nod. “See you, Yates.”

I walk off without hearing his reply. I climb into my newly fixed car and drive home. When I arrive, Melanie is still out, so I run myself a bath and drop my clothes faster than anything else I’ve done today. Then I slide into the hot water and moan. Oh, yes. I close my eyes and let my stress slip away. That’s when I hear my phone ringing.

Go. Away.

It stops and I smile with relief, until it rings again. I’m not getting out of my bath. You can’t make me. I close my eyes, drowning out the sound. I must drift off, because suddenly I’m being woken to the bathroom door being swung open and Blade storms in. I squeal and leap up, forgetting that I’m naked and wet. I slip and go backwards, but he lunges forward and catches me before I hit my head.

“Shit, sorry,” he says.

“Jesus, Blade,” I cry snatching a towel he hands me after adjusting us both so he’s no longer so . . . close. “What the fuck?”

I study him and . . . oh boy. Blade’s angry. Really angry. Super freaking angry. His face is tight and red, and he’s clenching his fists.

“Hey,” I say, stepping out of the bath and moving towards him. “What’s going on?”

He turns and storms out of the bathroom and I follow him into my room. When he gets in, he slams the door behind us both and starts punching things.

“Blade!” I yell, rushing over and placing a hand on his back. “Stop it.”

He turns around, panting. “She fuckin’ cheated on me.”

Oh. Dear.

“Blade . . .”

“Went home early to surprise her and found her in fuckin’ bed with another man. In my fuckin’ bed!” he roars.

Oh no.

“Stupid plastic fuckin’ slut,” he screams. “I should have known she would do this. She was never going to stick with one dick.”