In his eyes [18+]

2

M A Y A      M O R R I S O N

"I really think you've lost it, Mom. Why are we moving to his place?" I asked, feeling completely confused.

"Because he wants us to," Mom answered, packing her clothes into the suitcase without even glancing at me.

"I'm not going. I'm not a teenager anymore. I'd rather get my own apartment than live there," I shot back, prompting her to stop and look at me sharply.

"But you're behaving like a teenager, Maya," Mom said, clearly frustrated. "What's the issue with you moving in with him? Please explain," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Mom, he's your fiancé, so if you want, you should go ahead and move in with him. I just can't move in with someone I've only known for a week" I replied, crossing my arms and making her roll her eyes.

"He's your step—"

"He's not," I cut her off.

"What do you mean, he's not?" she asked, looking confused. I turned away from her, taking a deep breath. How do I explain that seeing Blaze as my stepfather is impossible when I'm actually sexually attracted to him?

I mean he's too hot to be my stepfather.

"Go pack your bags; I don't want to hear any more excuses," Mom said, completely disregarding what I had just said and resuming her own packing. "I'm tired of listening to you all morning.

"Mom—"

"Alright, I'll call Blaze then," she said with a huff, cutting me off and surprising me as she grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

"What are you—" I began, but she interrupted me again as she walked out of the room with the phone to her ear.

That's why sometimes I feel the urge to escape from her. I went upstairs to my room, shut the door, and let out a weary sigh. My mom never tries to understand me.

I put my hair up in a messy bun, changed out of my pajamas, and put on my silk robe.

Knock knock.

"Come in," I said, tossing my clothes into the suitcase on my bed, feeling frustrated. The door creaked open, but I didn’t bother to turn around, assuming it was my mom.

"Someone’s really mad," Blaze's deep, husky voice reached my ears, causing me to stop. My eyes widened slightly as I turned to see him leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed, muscles prominent.

Oh no.

He was wearing a black shirt and brown pants. His hair was messy, some strands falling over his forehead, making him look even more hotter than he was already, though he appeared tired.