Page 8 of Vexed

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lily

What the hell did he expect? That I was going to throw him a ‘welcome home’ party and carry on like he didn’t abandon me after I needed him the most?

I didn’t have anyone, and he knew that. But that didn’t stop him from dipping out like all our years of friendship was nothing. Did I mean nothing? I wanna go back there and slap that ignorant smirk off his face.

One thing I am confused about is the fact that it has been so long but he hasn’t aged a bit. He looks the same. He’s… gorgeous. It’s as if the years have been kind to him, preserving his beauty while leaving mine to wither away.

As a kid, all I saw was a friend, someone who talks to me, someone who likes spending time with me. But now, I got tingles all over my skin when that bastard smiled at me. Oh my God.

He is probably twice my age and here I am thinking about how good it would feel to touch him again… or to feel him touch me. Oh, my… stop.

Shaking the filthy thoughts from my head, I head to the kitchen to get started on dinner.

Mom has let me know she is going to be late tonight.

Some of the women that work with her invited her out for drinks.

She wanted to decline, but I urged her to go and blow off some steam.

I can use a drink too. Today was just too much.

She said I shouldn’t worry about dinner for her, but I’m making more just in case she’s hungry when she gets home. I know I’m always starving after a night of drinking.

I decided on spaghetti and meatballs. It has always been my favorite. It was the first dish mom taught me to make when I was around thirteen or fourteen.

After draining the spaghetti and dumping it in a glass bowl, I head back to where the meatballs are still frying on the stove.

The amazing smell that whirls through the room has my stomach growling. Adding the marinara sauce, I fry the meatballs for another 5 minutes before turning off the plate and adding the meatballs and sauce in with the spaghetti, topping it with some basil and grated parmesan cheese.

I’ve always loved cooking. But I don’t think being a chef was ever on my list. Making food for yourself and loved ones is one thing, but cooking for a living—no thanks.

I think this has to be the first time I’ve had dinner by myself. At home, Mom is always here, and back at the apartment, Hannah is there. It’s like I’m back in 4th grade at the ‘loser table’ all over again. Except, there’s no Tracy McBitch around.

After dinner, I cleaned up and decided to watch a movie.

It’s past 11:00 p.m., and Mom’s still not home, which means she’s having fun for once.

The thought puts a smile on my face as I snuggle further into my white fluffy blanket on the couch.

I decided to watch a scary movie—a ‘good’ idea since I’m home alone.

Laying my head back on the cushions, I can feel how heavy my eyelids are getting. I hate when that happens, especially when you really want to finish watching the movie but your eyes are so tired, it feels like your eyes are going crossed.

A loud bang on the door vibrates through the air and I practically leap out of my skin.

It’s probably my mom, but why would she knock?

She has a set of keys. Weird. I still get off the couch and open the front door.

Why wasn’t it locked? Did I forget to lock it?

I expected to see my mom, but there was no one there.

Okay, now I’m starting to get freaked out.

Frowning, I take a peek outside, making sure there is no one, before closing the door and locking it. I think it’s time for bed.

Watching horror movies, alone, wasn’t a good idea after all. I always do this. Feeling brave enough to watch God knows what scary movie is on and then want to complain about being scared of hearing all types of sounds.

As I turn around, ready to head to bed, I bump into something solid and as I open my mouth to scream, a big hand covers my mouth and backs me into the wooden front door. This is it, isn’t it? I’m going to die. Smart move forgetting to lock the door, you idiot .

But as I stare up at my attacker, a wave of relief washes over me. Those silver eyes stare down at me before that insatiable smirk spreads across his lips. The relief is quickly replaced with anger. The audacity of this man.

Clearly, he has a ‘boundary’ problem. This shit might have entertained my little kid brain when I was eight—but it’s not cutting it anymore. If he thinks stalking into my home to make me forgive and forget that he left me would work, he’s shit out of luck.

What the hell was I even thinking when I was a kid? Becoming friends with a strange grown man like it’s the most normal thing in the world. As an adult now, that sounds fucking insane.

I try to remove his hand from my mouth, but he keeps his hold firm. He leans forward, his nose slightly brushing against mine, “Shh.”

He slowly removes his hand, brushing his fingers along my cheek before stepping back. For the first time, it feels like I can breathe again. My heart beats fiercely against my chest as I stare up at him.

“What the hell are you doing?” I finally managed to get the words out. He frowns, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes roaming over my body, only covered in a thin white tank top with short sleep pants.

Suddenly, the air around us grows cold, causing me to shiver. I feel my nipples harden against my shirt and I immediately notice his eyes locked on my chest. The air feels like ice, but fuck, my skin is on fire by the way he looks at me.

I fold my arms over my chest to cover myself as I feel my cheeks heat up. A sly smirk pulls at his mouth before tearing his gaze away and starts walking around the living room like he owns the fucking place.

“Um, excuse me. How did you get in?” I ask, watching him look at the family pictures that adorn the wall above the fireplace.

He doesn’t answer me. He turns slightly, glancing at me.

I scoff as I stare at him. I haven’t seen this man in a decade and then he just shows up, strolling around my house like nothing happened.

I almost leap out of my skin as the sound of my ringing phone breaks the silence.

Before I make my way to my bedroom where the ringing is coming from, I turn to him, shooting daggers at him, “You, get out. Just disappear, you’re a pro at that.

” Without giving him a second glance, I turn and make my way to my room. Hannah is calling. Again.

I quickly grab my phone off my bed, but before I can answer it, it gets ripped from my hands.

“Hey! Give it.” I snap at him. I didn’t even hear him follow me. He stares down at me, amusement dancing in his eyes as he holds my phone high above my head. There’s no way in fucking hell I’m gonna jump for it, and even if I did, I would never reach that high.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave?” I say through gritted teeth as I stare up at him.

“You didn’t say please.”

Is he fucking joking? I scoff, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. When I open my eyes, his eyes are locked on mine with a smirk pulling at his lips. “Get. Out. Please.”

He’s silent for a moment before his smile widens and whispers, “No.”

Unbelievable. I swear I would slap him. But by the looks of it, he would probably mistake it for flirting. Great. Now I can’t get that picture out of my head. Me slapping him , him grabbing me , pinning me down, and asking me to do it again. My skin heats up just at the thought.

Suddenly, his smile falters and his eyes darken before they skim over me.

“Please.” I softly say, my voice breaking as we keep our eyes locked. He doesn’t say a word as he lowers my phone, handing it to me before turning and leaving my room.

I watch as he leaves and it feels like my heart is about to burst out of my chest. A few seconds later I hear the front door shut and it feels like I can breathe again.

What the hell was that?