Page 36 of Antagonist
I guess she was always a law unto herself. Determined to be just like the people she admired, which is basically anyone with money, regardless of who they really are.
So, no, I hadn’t planned on kissing Harrison. At most, I just wanted to hug him and make sure we were on the same page before walking into the meeting.
Of course, as soon as we walked into the dark closet, all my intentions went up in smoke. I didn’t pick the closet on purpose. I thought we were walking into a classroom or office.
So now I can’t stop thinking about Harrison. His lips, his hard body, his long cock straining against his slacks…
Fuck.
I need to apologize.
If the few interactions I’ve had with him have taught me anything, it’s that he’s wound tight. He likes to be in control of a situation, and as much as I would give anything to see him unravel, I don’t want it to be at the detriment of our tenuous relationship.
God, the way he let me take charge of the kiss. That moment he lost the battle against his own conscience and flipped us, pressing me so hard against the door. When my hair tie snapped, I thought I was going to come right there.
Christ. Get yourself under control, Fletch.
As I turn onto the last street to get to Bittersweet, I feel hot, and not just because of the lack of breeze. Walking to George’s school rather than driving was a good idea, in principle. It’s giving me a chance to put my thoughts in order because it’s only a matter of time before I see Harrison again, and my brain needs to be in sync with my mouth.
I’m not sure it’s working though. The more I think about Harrison, the more I think about all the things I shouldn’t be thinking.
Maybe I can just pretend it never happened?
The smell of burned cake is strong as I walk into Bittersweet.
“Julian?” I call out.
“One sec,” he replies from the kitchen.
I hear strained voices, and a moment later, a pimply teenager comes out of the kitchen, looking terrified as he almost runs out the door.
Julian follows in his footsteps. He pulls the dishcloth draped over his shoulder and scrunches it tight before slamming it on the counter.
“What happened?”
Julian looks up. There are bags under his eyes, and he looks exhausted.
“What hasn’t happened? My mom decided this week’s boyfriend is moving in, and the kids now want to live with me. I love my brother and sister, but it's not as if I have any extra space in that one-bed box upstairs, and now the kid I hired to do the bare minimum around here tried to set fire to my kitchen.”
“Wow, that’s…a lot. I’m so sorry, man.”
“Yeah. I just can’t catch a fucking break. Anyway, what can I get you?”
“Can I have a caramel iced coffee? Oh, and wrap me up a brownie for George, or I’ll be in the snake tank as food for Rosie if he knows I stopped by.”
“Coming right up.” Julius prepares the drink with the speed and ease of someone who could do it with his eyes closed.
My eyes roll back when I take the first sip. “Man, this is perfection.”
“I need to redo my iced drinks menu. It’s warming up out there and summer is just around the corner.”
I nod, taking another sip of the sweet drink while Julius mutters to himself about a list of things to do the length of his dick.
“Hey,” I say, pretending I didn’t hear what he said. “I know someone who’d be great for you. He’s super talented and learns fast. I’m not sure he’s free, but I can check.”
Julius shrugs. “At this stage, what harm can it do? He can’t be any worse than the kid who just tried to destroy my kitchen.”
“Gotta go pick up George, but I’ll let you know about my friend,” I say, heading out the door with my half-drunk coffee and brownie.
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