HE'S WICKED 😈

CHAPTER THREE

"Hey, bitch," Brass said, waving bottles of champagne in the air. Beatrice sighed and let her in. The girl never took no for an answer.

"This is going to be the best sleepover ever!" Brass declared, pressing her lips to Beatrice's cheek.

Alphonso was just about to enter his apartment when he heard Beatrice's friend's sharp voice and Beatrice's subsequent sigh. Lucky her, she had company tonight. He yawned and went inside. Solitude suited him. His life had been a series of one-night stands and broken hearts, despite his clear intentions. He poured himself a glass of wine, flopped onto the couch, and flipped through TV channels, almost drifting off when a loud crash startled him. Beatrice screamed, and he rushed to her apartment.

After knocking three times, the door opened to reveal a beautiful black woman grinning mischievously.

"Sorry for intruding, but I heard a crash. Is everything alright?"

"Damn it, Brass, where are you? My hand is freaking bleeding!" Beatrice shouted from the bathroom. He passed Brass and went straight to her.

"What took you so-"

She stopped short when she saw him. The cut was deep. How had this happened?

"Alphonso?" Beatrice was shocked. He was at her side in an instant, tending to her injury. She winced as he carefully removed a small piece of glass from her palm.

"How on earth did this happen?" His voice was sharp with concern.

"Champagne bottle," she murmured. He didn't ask more, just focused on cleaning and treating the cut with a practiced hand.

"Thank you so much, Alphonso," Brass said, handing him a glass of water.

"No problem. The cut was deep. I disinfected and wrapped it, but you need to have it checked at the hospital. Be more careful next time." He handed the glass back to Brass.

"Thanks... I'm sorry for disturbing you, Alphonso."

"Not at all, Beatrice. I'm happy to help. Goodnight, ladies," he said, leaving Brass grinning happily.

"What's making you so happy? You just cut my hand and disturbed my neighbor."

"Oh, he didn't complain. Didn't you hear him? He's glad to help. And besides, don't act like you weren't happy that he came over. I know you've been dying to have him over."

"But not like this."

"How then?" Beatrice sighed and went into the kitchen for water.

***

Alphonso felt tense and overworked despite the success at Claire Enterprise. Reaching out to Claire had been futile; her voicemail assured him she was fine, but he worried. She was the only family he had left, and guilt gnawed at him for abandoning her. He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Where are you, Claire?" he whispered, stretching out on the couch. This couch had become his best friend. Claire would have chided him for having no life. He missed her chatter. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He hoped it was Beatrice; he hadn't seen her in three days and worried about her hand.

To his surprise, it was Paula Lancer, holding a basket covered with a white cloth.

"Hey!"

"Good evening, Paula."

"I thought I'd bring you something. Claire loved these treats."

He frowned. This was unprofessional, but it would be rude to dismiss her. He sighed silently.

"Thank you, Paula. Please come in." He took the basket from her, noticing Beatrice in the hall, looking nervous. "Uh, Paula, please take this inside..."

Paula shot Beatrice a distrustful look before turning back to him.

"Okay," he said, closing the door and walking to Beatrice.

"Hey!"

"Hi... I realized I never thanked you for helping me that day. Thank you, Alphonso."

"It was nothing. Did you go to the hospital?" He took her hand, inspecting the bandages. Her hand was swollen but healing.

"Yeah, the doctor was glad you disinfected it. He suggested stitching since it was deep. I'll be getting stitches tomorrow."

"That's good. I hope you're not scared of needles."

"More like I'm scared of hospitals. It took a lot of courage to go there." She sounded scared. He chuckled and let go of her hand.

"If you want, I could take you. I'll be by your side the whole time."

She seemed surprised, then laughed. He liked her laugh. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded.

"I'd like that. Thank you."

"It's the least I can do for a neighbor."

"That's a kind gesture, neighbor."

"I'm good when I'm around you," he said in a husky voice, watching her blush. She smiled shyly, trying to hide behind her hair.

"That's nice to hear. I've got to go. Thank you, Alphonso. Goodnight." She buried her hands in her pockets and went upstairs. He laughed and went back inside. Paula sat on the couch, tapping her fingers impatiently. Her frown turned into a smile when she saw him.

"Hey! What took you so long?"

"My neighbor had something to tell me."

He sighed, preparing to discuss boundaries and professionalism. This was going to be a long night for him and a disappointing one for her.

Beatrice hit her head on the wall. "Damn you, Rize, your cheeks were like a rainbow... that was so embarrassing. He was only toying with you, and you were on fire the next minute," she murmured. She sighed, holding back her hair. Why had she accepted his offer to take her to the hospital? Brass had stood her up, leaving her to deal with Alphonso, who made her blush uncontrollably. She nervously touched her bandage, memories of her childhood fear of hospitals flooding back. She dropped onto her bed, wondering who the girl with Alphonso was. She half-expected to hear moaning by now. There's no way a hunk like him was single, and the girl's daggers hinted at her feelings. Why did it bother her so much?