I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips.
Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not.
She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath.
“Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day.
My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?”
Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.”
I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest.
“How long has it been?” she purrs.
“A long time,” I answer.
Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. “Come here.”
I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father’s ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum.
She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my c**k springs free, a release I’ve been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat.
“Go on, suck it,” I rumble.
On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length.
Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor.
“You..”
“I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off.
I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules?
We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I’m not so sure. It seems she’s going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times.
“I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn’t crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves.
But that’s far from what she has in my mind.
“Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just-” her voice sharpens, “after we just had s*x?”
“Stacy, listen…”
“Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now.
“I thought we were clear about this,” I reply, my voice firm. “From the very beginning, I told you I’m not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.”
Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. “Well, I don’t want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend.”
“You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly.
“But why?” She demands.
“I don’t have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.”
Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I’m serious. “Big guy…” she croaks, her voice breaking. “I just… I just really like you. Can’t you-“
She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger.
“Why exactly can’t I be your girlfriend?” she asks, her voice hard. “What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?”
I don’t answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer.
She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. “So that’s it? You’re just going to grab a beer? You don’t even care, do you?”
I take a slow sip, not looking at her. “I thought we were clear. I don’t.”
“I can be a good girlfriend!” she pleads, her voice rising. “I’m a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance.”
I shake my head. “I don’t need a girlfriend.”
The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, “Screw you!”
She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It’s Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable.
Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!”
My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it.
“Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.”
Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped.
KATY’S POV
The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself.
I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type.
A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.”
I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. “Peach?”
He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens.
“Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff.
I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.”
“Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?”
I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled-“
“Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating.
He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion.
“Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides.
He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?”
Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk.
“You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight.
He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.”
I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook.
I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.”
“Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?”
His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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