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My phone chimed.
Misha: On our way
About damn time.
Ares: Who’s this?
Misha: *eye-roll emoji*
Misha: If you’re looking for “asshole”, it’s in the same aisle as douchebag and dickhead
Now it was my time to roll my eyes. Yeah, yeah, funny shit, neighbor.
I reeled myself in, took a deep breath and cursed my feet for eating up the steps so fast when going down.
I checked the parking lot through the hallway window. Headlights faded in Misha’s drive way. Did he send the text, hoping I was spying on them—much as I was doing right now—and see them, what? Make out? Have hot sex in his car?
A sense of relief draped over me when their stalling kept to a minimum, and they both climbed out.
She fell into his step. Misha laced his fingers with hers and Dita—even prettier than I imagined her to be—smiled up at him. I wasn’t even talking about her skin-tight dress.
Motherfucker knew I was watching.
And eavesdropping at the front door.
He dragged her up the steps, those heels of her clicking against the concrete, and all I could do to keep sane was to turn around and back up against the door.
It wasn’t entirely the same thing as finding your dad fucking your girlfriend on the kitchen counter, but hell, a strong feeling of impotence weighed on my chest.
“Remember what we talked about,” Misha’s muffled voice said.
What did they talk about?
“Of course.” There was a short, shrill sound that resembled a peck of a kiss. “Misha, I really enjoyed tonight. Thank you.”
“No biggie. If you need me…”
“I’ll call.” Dita paused. “I’m sorry about the other thing. If I could, I’d keep you… Well, I see you’re already filling that blank in your head.”
Misha laughed. Seemed like they knew each other well enough to inside-joke around.
“Well, I’m heading out. I’d see you safe to your bed but, uh, I’m wary about entering the fort.”
They said their goodbyes, and I pretty much pounced on her the second she closed the door behind her.
She gasped and backed up while I caged her in, instinctually protecting her purse. The other hand wrapped around my wrist, denting the skin with her nails as I got in her face.
“Ares!”
Sweetheart. You know what that does to me.
Especially when it sounded bewildered.
“Don’t, Dita.”
I adjusted my posture and pushed my knee in between her legs. Last time, I’d crumped into a ball for fifteen minutes straight after she went to bed. Standing so close, we almost melted together. I wasn’t stupid, only a little intoxicated by her scent. Heat ripped up my spine, feeling the warm puff of breath against my mouth. My body knew what it wanted.
I was a sucker for torment. And so, I leaned in, almost as if I wanted to sniff up a whiff of Misha’s whereabouts.
