Page 5
“How long have you been with your boyfriend?”
“Does it matter?”
“Kind of. You did just come on another guy’s hand.”
“Oh my God. Can you not say it like that? I didn’t mean to.”
“Seemed like you did. You literally rode my fucking hand until you—”
“It was a mistake. Had I known it was you, I never would’ve done that.”
Not gonna lie, the way she says “you,” like I repulse her or something, stings a little.
What Little Sis doesn’t know but is about to find out is when I’m stung, I sting back. Harder.
Crowding her against the island, I sneer with twice as much contempt. “Had I known it was you, I wouldn’t have stuck my hand up your slimy cunt.”
She does something with her hand against my face. I’m not sure what. It doesn’t hurt exactly, but it doesn’t not hurt either. If anything, it irritates the fuck right out of me.
Immediately, she starts shaking out her hand, letting me know it did hurt her.
Bearing down on her, I ask slowly, coldly, “What the absolute fuck was that?”
“A punch—”
“No.” I know punches. That was no punch. Her hand wasn’t even a fist.
“A slap?” she says a lot less confidently.
I shake my head once. Wasn’t a slap either. It’s like she hit me with the side of her palm. A karate chop? Did this bitch karate chop my fucking face?
“I don’t know. I just…reacted.”
She has no idea what she did. She struck me, that’s for sure. Usually I strike back, also harder, but because she’s a girl, I let it slide.
“I’m embarrassed on your behalf,” I tell her seriously. Had she inflicted any amount of pain, I would be impressed. But she didn’t, so I’m not.
Maybe a tiny bit at the fact she tried in the first place. It took balls.
“Whatever. I’m sorry, okay? But that was out of line. All of this is. Can you just…”
When Kota pushes my chest, I step back but not without flexing my pecs first.
Might be wishful thinking but I’m pretty sure her fingers curl around the muscles before letting go.
“What’s your boyfriend gonna do when he finds out you cheated on him?” I ask as I rummage through the freezer with my left hand. Just because I refuse to hit girls doesn’t mean other men abide by that rule.
“Accidentally,” she corrects while taking the bag of frozen pineapple chunks from me and holding it to the hand she hit me with.
“You really think he’ll believe that?”
“I guess I’ll never know.”
“Are you gonna break up with him?” I ask, keeping the hope from my voice.
If I’m gonna be stuck living in this mansion for the foreseeable future, I sure as hell don’t want to be running into another guy. My dad doesn’t count. He’s currently wedged so far up his new wife’s ass, he’ll hardly be around.
“No, I just won’t tell him.”
