The Lonely Hearts Club

Chapter 16: Red Lingerie (Hades)

"Hey, handsome."

What the fuck?

I blink a few times to make sure I'm seeing things clearly.

A girl wearing nothing, but red lingerie is laying sprawled on my couch, a red rose in her hand.

Sunlight streams into my apartment from the massive windows, kinda illuminating her.

She looks vaguely familiar, but I can't place her.

Why the fuck is this random woman in my room?

This whole scene would be sexy if I wasn't so pissed off.

And if it was Bree in her place.

Nah, I can't think like that.

She's not really thriving at the moment and the last thing she needs is me coming in and fucking with her feelings.

You know, 'cause I don't do relationships and stuff.

"I've been waiting for you," the lady purrs. "All night."

"How'd you get in?" I ask in a cold voice.

Her face falters a little.

I guess she was expecting I'd be overjoyed and take her back to my bedroom to show her so.

The fuck not, the only person who gets to be in my bed, is me.

"I walked into the lobby and asked for directions." She says simply, pulling herself up into a sitting position.

"Nah, how did you get in my apartment?" I say.

I'm not like Bree with her extent of locking devices, but I always make sure my place is bolted before I go.

"I asked your friend with the silver hair." She shrugs.

Fuck Nicks.

I forgot I gave him a spare keycard.

Last time I saw him he had blue hair; Savvy must have got him to change it back.

It was supposed to be for when I lost mine or forgot it somewhere.

Her eyes drop to my waist where I'm still wearing Bree's pink towel.

On my way here I got several shameless looks, but this girl just looks mad.

"Where did you get that?" she asks, voice suspicious.

"Look, I need you to leave." I run my hand through my partially damp hair.

"Were you with another girl just now?" she says accusingly, blatantly ignoring my last remark.

"Look, you need to go."

"No! I want us to make love properly!"

No fucking way.

I know who this bitch is now.

She's the one from the club bathroom.

What's her name again?

Hope? Harper?

The one who was trying to make something romantic out of a cheap fuck.

How'd she find out where I live?

"Please Hades," she begs. "I've been waiting so long."

"No," I rub my temple. "Get out, please."

"But why not?" She looks hurt.

"I don't want you," I say.

If this bitch doesn't leave, I'm calling security.