"You forget how hard it is to ignore someone who looks the way you do," He replied smoothly, taking advantage of the close proximity between the two of us.
Running his large hands slowly down my arms before looping them around my waist possessively...
I wasn't supposed to be home tonight. I wasn't even sure why I came back. Maybe I forgot something, maybe I just wanted a break from the chaos outside these very walls. Or maybe I just wanted to check on her.
Vi was supposed to be an afterthought, a familiar presence in the background of my life. Ezra's little sister. That's all she'd ever been.
But now, every time I walk into my own home, I'm bracing myself—like she might upend everything without even trying.
It was as if she knew what she was doing. I've always had this problem with her like she knew just how to get under my skin— it would be the smallest shit too.
But somehow she managed to do just that. And I made a promise to myself that what happened in the past stays there... it has been how many years? So I told myself I would be nice, but it gets harder every day.
I don't hate her because hate is a strong word. It's like I can't stand her but I don't want something bad to happen to her.
When I got that call from Ezra a few weeks ago, I didn't have much of a choice but to say yes because where would she go?
I mean seriously... her parents can barely fucking stand her ass, and I wouldn't blame her for not going back to them. So yes, I offered her a place to stay.
And to be honest, these past weeks haven't been the greatest, but at least she hasn't been like going through my room and all that.
She has gotten very comfortable in my house though. Like super comfortable— and I don't know if she just doesn't expect me to come home which I can't blame her because sometimes I don't but when I do— I can barely keep my composure.
In its own fucked up way... it's wrong, but I'm only a man after all.
I watched as the elevator door opened and stepped inside my penthouse, the sound of her laughter freezing me in place. It wasn't forced polite laughter like I'd heard her give at family dinners. It was soft, natural, and... God, it made something twist in my chest.
What was wrong with me?
I rounded the corner, fully expecting to see her FaceTiming some guy— and I was ready to hate him on sight like I did her, even though I didn't. She had every right to see whoever she wanted, but the idea of her being happy felt like a punch to the gut. Is that sick to say?
