Page 11 of Paper Doll

As I lower the bar to my chest, I catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, angling my head back slightly. I’m expecting Ford or Wes, but instead, my gaze snags on a pair of tan thighs jutting out from beneath a short plaid skirt.

Wasn’t Wes just going on about some transfer student in a schoolgirl skirt?

She walks right up to the weight bench until I can almost see up said skirt. Nobody aside from the Kings is welcome in the gym at this time, but for those legs, maybe I can make an exception.

“Raf?”

I wet my lips with my tongue, straining my neck to angle my head back further, glimpsing the white cotton of her panties underneath. “Step a little closer, babe,” I rasp.

She must suddenly realize that she’s giving me a show, because she jolts backwards out of view with a gasp.

I push the bar up, dropping it onto the rack with a metallic clang while a laugh rumbles through my chest. “Don’t get all shy on me now,” I murmur, sitting up and twisting around to get a better look at her.

Big brown eyes blink back at me. “Raf, it’s me,” she breathes, searching my face. “Ava.”

I arch a brow, my gaze dropping down her body, then slowly roaming back up. The name doesn’t really ring a bell, but those thighs could’ve been wrapped around me at some point. I feel like I would’ve remembered those full, perky tits, but maybe I was drunk. My gaze finally slides to her face, cataloging her features, and that’s when recognition slams into me.

I don’t react. Hell, I don’t even fuckingbreathe.

Ava purses her lips, tilting her head in question. “You really don’t remember me?”

Oh, I remember her alright.

Little Ava Morrow is all grown up, looking so much like her mother that my blood instantly starts boiling in my veins, my hands curling into fists.

I turn away to hide the fury in my eyes, grabbing for a towel and mopping the sweat from my brow. “Did we hook up or something?” I mumble in a bored, disinterested tone.

In my peripheral vision, I see her flinch back.Good.

“No.” She pauses for a long moment, my skin prickling under the weight of her stare. “I’m your…” she trails off, swallowing thickly. “My mom just married your dad.”

I toss the towel down on the bench, pushing to my feet. “Didn’t realize he’d decided to remarry.”

Ava’s brows draw together in confusion. “You were invited to the wedding…”

“Must’ve gotten lost in the mail,” I grunt as I turn away, heading over to the Lat pull and adjusting the pin to set the weight. I drop down onto the seat, rolling my neck on my shoulders as I reach for the bar.

She doesn’t take the hint and leave, still staring at me from across the room.

“So, what are you doing here?” I ask as I grip onto the bar and yank it down, the muscles in my back flexing with every rep.

Ava slowly starts making her way toward me, brows still drawn in. “Your dad didn’t tell you?”

“Me and the old man don’t talk much,” I mutter.

My back muscles burn as I continue my workout while she just stands there watching me mutely. After a few more reps, I release the bar, the weights slamming back down with a crash that makes her jump. Then I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and scrubbing a hand over my sweaty face.

“So, how much?”

Ava squints at me, cocking her head. “Huh?”

“To fuck you, how much? I mean, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Following in your mother’s footsteps, trying to fuck your way into money and power…”

She gapes at me while my lips pull into a cruel grin. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I don’t pay for pussy.” My eyes flicker down her body, then ping back up to meet her own. I shrug a shoulder. “Doubt your used-up cunt would be worth much anyways.”

Ava’s lips twist in a scowl, face turning a deep shade of red and brown eyes blazing. “You’re a pig!”

I lean back with a sinister smile as I watch her, deriving a great deal of satisfaction from her reaction. If I squint a little, I can almost pretend it’s Daphne, the whore that wrecked my family. The reason my father was never around, not even in my mother’s final moments.