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long time no post😁
am soooo sorry guys for the long delay, am so sorry for the delay all this while, i hope am welcomed back, am soo sorry, school work had piled up; too much for me, but am ok now. Am i welcomed????😟

💕💕Anti hero💕💕

❤Chapter Five,❤

Instead of pulling into the extra carport like he used to, Nate parked down the street. A habit from his job. Stay out of sight. Blend in with the surroundings. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

Like that white unmarked van beside the curb.

It meant nothing. This was a pretty safe-pocket neighborhood despite its proximity to downtown. No reason to think anything was wrong.

I just wanted to hear your voice.

What if she was in trouble? No, it was just a stupid phone call. He told himself that even as he sped up, weaving through the wooded lawns so he’d be less visible on his approach.

Man, he was going to feel like a chump if he showed up at her place only to find her in bed with some guy. He’d found so many of his clients’ wives that way, he almost expected it. But if there was even a chance she needed his help, if she were hurt… He couldn’t even consider that.

His head pounded; his throat went dry. Skill only got a soldier so far. Beyond that, he’d learned to trust his instincts, and they were going haywire. A sunny day in a pleasant neighborhood, and everything was still, as if even the squirrels and the birds were in hiding, the whole street holding its breath.

He paused behind a large oak, scanning the entrance and windows. A shadow moved behind the blinds in the bedroom. His mind could easily picture her gorgeous body, skin always bronze, dripping wet after a shower.

Or had that shadow been someone else?

Her patio and the one beneath it were identical, but unlike the bottom one, the vertical blinds to her patio were open, as usual. He’d always given her a hard time about that, how she’d give the neighbors a show if she padded to the kitchen for a drink of water in the middle of the night. There were no neighbors now, only him. And the person walking across her living room wasn’t wearing an oversize longhorn T-shirt.

He was dressed in all black, with a matching ski mask.

Nate knew what fear felt like. He’d belly crawled through the bug-infested jungle, watching bullets plunge into the mud beside his head. He’d been tied up and beaten in a s**t-brick hut. As they brought a bat down on his knee, he’d thought I’m going to die here and he had come to terms with that. It was what a soldier did; he felt fear and pushed through it.

None of those experiences prepared him for the sight of an armed intruder in Sofia’s apartment. His brain went fuzzy red with rage for a split second, his whole being consumed with the need to attack. Right the f**k now.

He didn’t care for himself. They could fill him full of lead, and through the pure force of his fury, he’d live long enough to strangle them personally. But Sofia would be up there. She could get taken hostage or caught in the cross fire. He couldn’t risk it.

If they were at all smart, they were keeping a watch on the main entrance to the building and on Sofia’s door. Maybe it was dead bolted, and he couldn’t shoot through that without risking shooting her. Neither could he pick the lock without getting himself shot through the door.

The best entrance was a surprise attack through the patio. Beside the stacked patios, yellow hydrangeas trailed up the sides. He’d climb the trellis that started from the bottom and hope it held his weight.

At the base of the trellis he paused, hearing a faint sound from inside. He cocked his head. A muted scream of pain followed. Female. Sofia. And it was coming from the first floor. There was no time to analyze why the hell she was downstairs instead of up. Judging from the distance of the scream, she was farther inside the lower apartment, not near the patio door. He shot through the patio door, aiming toward the ground, and then kicked in the rest of the glass.

Pushing through the blinds, he took in the scene. Sofia was on the ground, holding the side of her face. Another man lay beside her, wounded or dead. A man dressed in black stood over her, armed.

A single tap to the head and the armed man went down.

Sofia shrieked, but his attention was diverted when another as***le thundered down the stairs. Retrieving the knife from his boot, Nate ducked behind the divider wall and waited.

The man rushed into the kitchen, and Nate grabbed him by the neck, sticking him in the back. The liver, he judged based on the height. A fatal blow. The man choked on his own vomit, and Nate let him slide to the floor, turning him over and straddling his neck.

“Who sent you?” he demanded.

The man’s eyes were already rolling back in his head. Damn. He hadn’t meant to kill this one, at least not so soon. Not when he still needed information. He shook the man, and the bastard’s eyes slowly focused on him.

“That’s right. Who sent you?”

“F**k you,” he spat.

“Come on, I’m trying to help you here. We can do this easy or hard. Easy means I end this quickly. Hard means I let you bleed out. That pain you’re feeling now? It only gets worse. Now tell me who sent you.”

“I don’t know anything, I swear. They don’t tell us anything.” Far too late, panic entered his eyes, but Nate hadn’t been lying about the pain.

He’d seen enough men die this way—too many men.

Nate cocked his head. The soft sound of booted footfalls came from upstairs. A third intruder.

He looked at the man beneath him with pity. “Wrong answer.”

A smooth cut sliced open his throat and put him out of his misery. Despite Nate’s threat to make him suffer, he’d never been comfortable with animal abuse.

During the scuffle, Sofia had crawled into the corner. Now she huddled against the refrigerator, her cheek already swelling. Goddamn it. That son of a bitch had hit her. Now he wanted to kill the f**ker all over again. The fear in her eyes wrenched his gut, but he couldn’t focus on that now.

He handed her his Sig. “Anyone comes in here that isn’t me, shoot ’em.”

She stared at the weapon, nostrils flared. Finally, she took it with a tight nod. Good girl.

Not sparing another second, he cleared each room in the downstairs apartment and then made his way upstairs. He only had his knife now, but on a good day, he was more lethal this way. And this would be a good day. Blood pumped fast and hot through his veins, imbuing him with speed and strength. Rage tightened his vision. They came after his girl? The last thing they’d see was his face, bidding them good night. Simple as motherf**king pie.

The third man was searching her closet. He didn’t even detect Nate’s approach until the knife was resting against his jugular. Nate used his free hand to lock the man’s elbow behind his back.

“Your friends are dead,” Nate murmured against the man’s ear.

The acidic stench of urine suffused the air as the man wet himself.

Nate chuckled softly. “Tell me what you know, and I might let you live.”

“I can’t… I don’t… Please, I don’t…”

The man babbled incoherently. Nate let the knife cut into his skin, just a nick.

“Now, now,” Nate said. “This is important. I need you to focus. You can do that for me, right?”

“I don’t know anything. They just paid us to bring them the laptop.”

“And?” Nate twisted the man’s elbow.

“And the girl,” he gasped out. “Leave her body. Take a picture.”

A picture for proof of death. His girl, dead. Rage blackened his vision. Nate forced himself to calm. “Tell me about the man who paid you. Who is he?”

“I swear I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Disgusted, Nate shook his head. Dark impulses tugged at him. He could make this man talk. Nothing was more persuasive than pain, and Nate knew how to apply it. But Sofia was waiting for him downstairs. Lovely, pure Sofia who shouldn’t be anywhere near this.

With a clinical blow to the man’s temple, he knocked him out. Dragging the bulky man downstairs, he felt the first twinges in his knee. The pain couldn’t touch him now, flying high on adrenaline, but if he pushed too hard, the joint was liable to give out. He forced himself to slow down as he returned to the kitchen and tossed his charge into a kitchen chair.

Sofia was waiting where he’d left her, her back against a corner, clutching the gun. He hated that she saw him as a killer now, the way he saw himself, but he couldn’t focus on that now. The bruise on her cheek had swelled, making his blood burn hot. Her bright, fear-stained eyes watched the man’s head loll back in the chair.

Nate crouched over the man who’d been on the floor since the beginning, blood staining his shirt. He vaguely recognized him as her landlord—what was his name, Ernie? He was always sniffing around Sofia’s skirts. He touched his fingers to Ernie’s pulse: dead and cooling. Well, he wouldn’t need his belt then.

Nate removed it quickly and twined it through the back of the chair, binding his unconscious captive’s hands behind his back. He stuck the top of the chair underneath the lip of the counter for good measure. The intruder probably wouldn’t wake up for hours, but if he did, he’d be trapped.

When he turned back, Sofia held out a circle of duct tape. For reasons unknown, speech was beyond him at the moment. He raised an eyebrow.

“For…” She bit her lip. “For a blindfold. If you wanted.”

Jesus. Her eyes were wide as saucers as he took it from her and tied it around the man’s head. This had to be freaking her out, but she kept up just fine. But that was Sofia, capable and so damn gorgeous she made his heart squeeze painfully. He had the trained ability to shut off his emotions and become this violent machine. She didn’t have that—just an innate sense of right and wrong and a courage that continually stunned him. Even after what she had been through, she wanted to fight for other people.

He bound the man’s ankles to the legs of the chair for good measure. The homemade binds would keep the man contained until police arrived. He stepped back and surveyed the man. Black T-shirt, black cargo pants. No identification. He may not have been the highest quality, but there was no doubt he’d spoken the truth—he was a paid mercenary.

In Sofia’s closet, a paid mercenary.

Using the kitchen phone, he placed a call directly to his buddy on the Austin police force. The man had been Special Forces before Nate’s time, but the respect was mutual. They’d had an off-the-records understanding, with Jed providing information when Nate needed it and Nate following up on leads when Jed’s hands were tied up with red tape.

“This is Lieutenant Commander Patterson.” The answer was clipped.

“Jed. It’s Nate.”

“Nate.” His voice sharpened, detecting the thinly veiled violence in Nate’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I need some uniforms over here.” He rattled off the address. “A few men down. Another one’s my gift to you. They broke into Sofia’s place. Assaulted her. Killed her landlord.”

“Sh*t.” There was rustling. “I’ll put in the call, but it may be a while.”

Seriously? “I’ve got a prisoner in f**king leather bo***ge and duct tape. Not to mention a few cooling bodies. Let’s make this sooner rather than later.”

“I hear you, but we’re drowning. Code f**king red. Haven’t you heard?”

“Tell me.”

Nate’s blood ran cold as he listened. An explosion at the Austin Daily, where Sofia worked. He stared into her fathomless dark brown eyes across the few feet of kitchen tile that separated them while Jed told him all about the blast that could have killed her. That darkening bruise on her cheek was nothing compared to what a bomb could do to her. He had no idea what had happened to make her a target, but he was going to keep her safe.

He didn’t take his eyes off hers when he spoke. “Jed? I’m leaving the prisoner for you, but when your guys get here, we’ll be gone.”

“You need to remain there. Someone will need to take your statement—”

“This is my statement, Jed. These f**kers were in her apartment. Her motherf**king closet. And now you tell me they bombed her work? I’m not letting her stick around to give them a third shot at her.”

The line was quiet a moment; then Jed said, “Yeah. Okay.”

And yeah, okay because Jed knew who Sofia was to him. Which meant he also knew that Nate wasn’t going to let a damn thing happen to her. An explosion at her work and three mercenaries in her home? Jesus.

He hung up the phone.

On impulse, he strode over and pulled her into his arms. He was dirty and she was clean, but he couldn’t resist holding her tight, breathing in her hair and feeling her pulse beat beneath soft skin. Her breath came in rapid puffs against his shirtfront. Alive. She was alive. And yeah, he was trembling; he could own that, because if he hadn’t been here, if he’d never seen her again, he’d have lost it.

So much for pretending he didn’t give a damn. Every cell in his body was attuned to her—her safety, her fear. His concern for her was all-encompassing, leaving him…exactly where he’d always avoided. Open. Vulnerable.

She turned her face up, her gaze searching his. He had no idea what she saw there, but it made her cup her palm against his jaw. It was clenched tight, but at her touch, he loosened a fraction, at the proof that she wasn’t afraid of him after what she’d seen him do.

“Is this why you wouldn’t tell me?” she whispered.

Towards the end, she’d tried to get him to tell her about his time in the army. Things that he was careful to avoid speaking about, even thinking about, things that only surfaced occasionally in his dreams.

He had refused, of course. The reason why they sent trained killers out into the world was so people like her could be safe and ignorant in their beds. She might have thought she wanted to know, but he wouldn’t wish that knowledge on anyone.

It was the same reason he’d never told her about his moonlighting gig—the black ops work he still did on the side. Even though the omission had meant he’d never be truly open with her, had maybe caused the rift between them that made her walk.

Yes, this was a glimpse of what it had been like, skimming the surface of death and darkness and the despair that he really was a coldhearted bastard.

He turned her question around. “Why didn’t you tell me about the explosion?”

She flinched. The irony didn’t escape him that he expected her to confide in him while he kept his past locked up. But that was ancient history and this was her life at stake. Nothing was more important than that.

“It doesn’t feel real.” Her brow lowered in confusion. “I was right outside. I watched it happen, but it doesn’t seem real.”

He understood that. The first time he’d watched three of his buddies blown to bits in an IED explosion, he’d kept expecting to see them in their bunks. When they’d assigned other soldiers to their beds, Nate had started a cafeteria brawl with one of them, as if he could punch the truth of the matter right out of him. Didn’t work though.

It sucked to care. Sucked a lot, and Sofia cared more than anyone he knew.

He couldn’t find the words to tell her it got easier, couldn’t lie to her when she seemed so small and fragile in his arms. After the fight, his commanding officer had looked at him with knowing eyes, when Nate hadn’t even understood why he was so pi**ed off.

As punishment, he’d been assigned to scrub the decks for a week, but the labor had been exactly what he’d needed to get his head on straight. Something to keep busy and be useful.

That was all he could offer Sofia.

“Go pack a bag,” he said.

She blinked slowly. “Why?”

“We’re getting out of here, at least for tonight. Until I can figure out what the hell’s going on and how to keep you safe.”

He braced himself for her objections. She would want to talk to the police, give a statement. Have them protect her instead of her bastard ex-boyfriend. But the argument never came. She simply went upstairs to do as he asked. He followed her, humbled by her blind trust in him and unwilling to let her out of his sight.

She packed quickly, bringing only a backpack with clothes and toiletries and a messenger bag.

“Your laptop in there?” he asked, nodding toward the bag.

She glanced down. “Yeah, why?”

Because she’d almost been killed for it. “Do you always bring it with you to work?”

“Sometimes. I’ve got a desktop there, but I wanted to bring some files home. The images can get pretty huge, so it’s fastest to download them directly to my laptop.”

“Well, that’s what the men were after.” That and a snapshot of a hole in her head, but he didn’t think that part needed elaboration at the moment.

She frowned, lifting the flap to peek at her laptop. “I don’t know what would be valuable. A bunch of newspaper clippings that are publicly available.”

“Hmm. We’ll look through it when you’re safe.”

He kept her behind him down the stairs and across the lawns to his car. Most likely those men were it. Three would have seemed like plenty to kill an unarmed young woman. But he wasn’t taking any chances.

He gestured her into the driver’s seat.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise but threw her bags into the passenger seat and sat behind the wheel without complaint. It warmed him that she seemed to trust him still, even after seeing what he was capable of. Then again, she’d never balked at following his orders—at least in one area of their relationship.

He handed her the keys and watched while she turned on the ignition. “I’m going to scope out the van I think they came in. Most likely no one’s in there or they would have bolted when the shooting started, but just in case, I want you to stay here with the engine running. If anyone approaches the car that’s not me—”

“Run them over?”

He felt a grin tug at his lips. “I was going to say hightail it out of here, but that works too.”

....
Sorry for the late post

💖💖Beautiful little lies💖💖

Chapter 4

STONE HAD SAID THE BUILDING was historical. I hadn’t realized that meant the apartment would look like something from the Great Gatsby era. It was as if I’d walked into the book itself. The outside had been stunning and true to that time period. It was surprising because I’d imagined something more modern inside, and considerably less stunning.

“This is,” I said turning in circles taking in the entrance of his apartment, “amazing.” Even the furnishings, although most were newer and few were real antiques, fit the architectural style.

“You like it?” There was pride in his tone.

“Who wouldn’t?” I asked still looking at all the detail.

“You won’t be so thrilled about everything when you realize the bathrooms have those old claw-foot tubs instead of a nice big Jacuzzi,” Presley said with a sigh as if this was a real burden for her.

Stone didn’t respond. I wondered if she paid him rent. If living in this gorgeous apartment was free for her, it was incredibly rude of her to complain. I thought claw-foot tubs sounded cool.

“When did you do this? I thought you’d been at college in New Hampshire until this summer.” I knew I’d heard Jasper talk about living in New Hampshire with roommates.

“I like restoring old things. It’s a hobby. I started two years ago and finished it up this past fall. Most of the big items were completed by contractors with lots of phone calls. It was hard to travel here to check on things. Coming here instead of staying in Manhattan was nice though.”

Presley sighed dramatically. She did that a lot. “I love Manhattan. I hate your mother, but I love the city.”

Again, Stone ignored her.

“Your room will be the third door on the left,” Stone said. “There is a bathroom connected to it, and if you can suffer through the antiquated features it’s yours to use,” he said the last bit with obvious disdain. Presley’s earlier comment was not well received.

“Thank you, Stone. I appreciate this. Really, I do. And I’ll spend tomorrow finding a place to live. I won’t be a hindrance.”

He frowned. “You’ve got a lot to figure out. The room isn’t being used. It’s yours. Use it. Don’t worry about a place to live right now. Deal with the other s**t first.”

I didn’t look at Presley to see her response. She wouldn’t be as agreeable as him. I’d already figured out she wasn’t crazy about me being here.

“Clover is coming to visit soon. She’ll need somewhere to sleep,” Presley said quickly. “That’s my sister,” she added as she shot a glare my way.

“Clover can sleep in your king-size bed with you,” Stone told her. The authority in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. ‘That room is Beulah’s.”

Presley inhaled sharply. “Are you f**king her? Is that it? Jasper tossed her out because he caught you with her, didn’t he? I can’t believe you’d do this to me! You’ve never thrown one in my face. All your s***s, even Margot—”

“That will be all, Presley!”

I jumped, startled by his loud command. Presley immediately broke into tears. “You always hurt me. Always. Your mother doesn’t think I’m good enough. That’s it, isn’t it!” she wailed.

“Not the f**king drama. Jesus, save it for your friends. I’m not in the mood for it.” Stone’s voice was still louder than normal and angry. Like a parent talking to a child. “Go wail to Fiona. Drink vodka or some s**t. But not in here.”

Presley pointed at me. “And leave you alone with her? To f**k in my house? Your mother would hate her too! She wants you to marry Margot!” The shrill of her voice made me wince as did her accusations.

“I am not f**king Beulah. However, this is my home. If I want to f**k someone here, I will. My mother has never and will never have a say in who I do or don’t f**k. I don’t owe you anything, Presley. You owe me a lot. Remember that and go cool off. Preferably not in this apartment.” Stone turned to me. “I’m going to have some whiskey now. Presley often drives me to drink in short amounts of time. Can I get you anything, or would you rather go hide out in the sanctuary of your room?”

‘That! You say things like that, and it’s mean. Cruel, Stone! Cruel! You act like I mean nothing to you. Just like your father—”

“For the love of God, would you take that yammering and find a friend to punish with it!” He was loud again. Almost shouting.

Presley spun around on her heel and ran out the door in tears. After she slammed the door behind her, he sighed and shook his head as he walked to the bar and took a glass down from the rack beside it.

“Want a drink?” he asked again.

“No, thank you. I think I’ll just go to the room.”

“Don’t blame you.”

I stood there watching him trying to figure out why he was in a relationship with a woman he didn’t seem to care for particularly. He also wasn’t faithful to her and she was aware of that. It wasn’t my business. He’d been nothing but generous to me today. But the hard, cruel man he was flickered there in his eyes while Presley, as annoying and spoiled as she was, had cried.

“Is she okay? Your girlfriend?” I didn’t want to cause a problem with them. He should have reassured her there was nothing going on with us.

He glanced back at me then took a drink of his whiskey. “Presley?”

Of course, Presley. Who else would I be talking about? I didn’t say that though, I simply nodded.

“She’ll be fine. She’s dramatic. It’s her nature and always has been. You’ll get used to it.”

I would get used to her screaming and crying? I doubted it. “She does this a lot?”

He smirked and took a drink. “There are several reasons I was sleeping in Jasper’s pool house. What you witnessed was one of those reasons.”

“Then . . . why do you stay together?” I was pushing it. I needed to shut up. This was not my home and he was letting me stay here.

“That’s a story too convoluted to get into. I’ve not had enough to drink to unload that one. Maybe another time.”

I deserved a more curt response from him for my nosiness, but he’d been kinder in his response.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He didn’t agree or disagree. Instead, he continued to drink and stare at me with his bored expression. He wanted me to go. After that debacle, I imagined he needed peace and quiet, not me asking a million questions.

“Good night and thank you again,” I said before turning to walk down the hallway toward the room he said was mine.

“You’ll find your things in the closet,” he called out.

“Okay, thank you,” I replied. I’d said thank you a lot. But I didn’t know how else to express my gratitude. If this was a regular bachelor pad I’d offer to clean it. It wasn’t though, the place was immaculate. I’d have to find a way to pay him back for all he’d done for me today.

“And Beulah, Presley is my stepsister.”

...
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💖💖ɮɛaʊtɨʄʊʟ ʟɨttʟɛ ʟɨɛs💖💖

💕ċɦaքtɛʀ 3💕

THE BRICK PAVED PATH LED to a three-story apartment building that appeared to have been recently restored. Each floor looked like it held only one apartment. The plaque on the outside of the building said it was built in 1920. Stone had been living at Jasper’s, so I wasn’t sure whose apartment this was.

There were three cars parked outside. A black Hummer, a white Range Rover, and a red Porsche. Stone’s Black Range Rover wasn’t present.

I checked the address again. He hadn’t given me an apartment number or a name. Maybe I was at the wrong place. I had enough money to find an inexpensive hotel room for the night. My other option was knocking on the apartment doors to ask the occupants if they were expecting me, which seemed a bit creepy.

Before I could think it through much longer, a girl with long almost black hair emerged from the front door of the building. She was all legs and incredibly thin. She looked like a runway model. Her shorts were tiny and showed off her legs—they were longer than most people’s bodies. A pair of aviator sunglasses were perched on her head although the sun had already begun to set.

Her gaze swung to me as she started walking in my direction. I watched until she was almost beside my car before I opened my door to see if she was coming to talk to me. Either she was expecting me, or she was walking over to ask me what I was doing parked at this elite apartment complex. A complex that didn’t seem to have any traffic and no parked cars out front that cost less than one hundred grand.

Stepping out of the car, I had to tilt my head back to look at her. With the heels she was wearing she was at least six-foot-three. She swung her hair over her shoulder and gave me a tight smile. “I was going to ask if you were Beulah, but now that I see you I know the answer to that question. Figures,” she rolled her eyes and turned to walk back to the building.

I didn’t move. I wasn’t sure what she meant exactly. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Are you coming or not?” she asked exasperatedly.

She didn’t seem very happy about this. I wasn’t sure I wanted to intrude on someone who didn’t want me there. “Uh, I don’t think so,” I replied making up my mind before she could snap at me again.

That stopped her from sauntering away with her heels and long legs. She spun around again looking very much like someone walking the catwalk. Her left hand landed on her hip—or the bone that was covered with skin—and glared at me. “Seriously? Stone went to all this trouble, and you’re just going to leave?”

What trouble had he gone through? I hadn’t meant for him to have any trouble. I started to ask when his Rover pulled into the exclusive parking lot. I had never been relieved to see Stone. The feeling was new but I was definitely glad he was here.

He got out and walked over to me shooting a glance toward the girl. “You coming inside?” he asked shifting his gaze back to me.

I looked nervously at the unknown female who was no longer scowling but was smiling politely. “She is a little apprehensive. Can’t convince her to come inside,” the girl’s tone was sweet and sounded as if she were talking about a small child.

“You’ve got nowhere else to go, Beulah.” His demeanor turned frustrated just that quickly.

I wasn’t being stubborn. He hadn’t been here, and it was obvious the girl didn’t want me here. I decided against saying that though since this was her apartment. Or at least I assumed it was her apartment.

“I know,” I replied. Then it hit me. I had nothing. All my things were at Jasper’s. I’d been so upset over everything else and trying to focus on Heidi while my mind was turning over all the horrors I’d been told today. “I don’t,” I said glancing back inside my car for anything I might have left in there. “have my things,” I finished.

“They’re inside. I picked them up earlier,” Stone replied as if this made perfect sense.

“You did?” I asked confused.

“How else were you going to get them?” He didn’t expect an answer to that question. I couldn’t help answering him anyway.

“I don’t know.”

“This is my building. I rent out the other two apartments. Presley lives in mine,” he said as he began to walk toward the building. He expected me to follow him. I closed my car door and looked at the building more closely. Did he own the entire building? I didn’t think he worked, much less that he would own a building. He was always partying and sleeping in Stone’s pool house.

The girl was walking with more of a swing in her hips now. I was assuming she was Presley. He acted as if I knew who that was. She hadn’t told me her name.

“You’re taking me to Manhattan soon though. I want to see your new flat there. I’d rather live there with you than here in Savannah,” she said in a flirty voice as she gazed back at him.

“The top floor is mine. The rooftop is shared. Chantel and Fiona are on the second floor. And Marty and Mack—they’re on the first floor.”

He had ignored her comment. Although I was listening to him tell me about the building it was hard to miss her body had suddenly tensed. She didn’t like being ignored and I doubted men ignored her often. I was confounded because she was living in his apartment, so what did that make them? I’d seen Stone with a lot of women. Jasper had mentioned Stone getting a ring for a Margot once, but that was it. He hadn’t seemed happy about the idea.

Having a woman live in his apartment that he never stayed at seemed more Stone-like than his sudden hero act. He’d been a jerk since the day I’d met him. But today he’d been there when I thought I had no one. I was confused with my feelings for him.

“Chantel is in the Caribbean with Dameon. Luke broke up with him last night and he was having a meltdown, so she took him to the islands to get away. Luke is doing my shoot tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll get to hear his side of the story. He’s such a slt though. We all warned Dameon when he started dating him.”

Presley was telling this story so dramatically I felt like she was explaining the missed episode of a television show. Stone didn’t seem very interested in any of it. He stepped in front of Presley and opened the door. “I wanted to add a keypad for the lock so we wouldn’t need keys to the building but there are rules in the city with any structure considered to be historical. When I bought it to restore, I had to keep several things within the time period it was built. There are specific things you can’t touch to be considered a historical structure—the door for instance. It had to be restored and the original could not be replaced.” He waved his hand for us to come inside.

Presley went ahead of me quickly and leaned in to kiss Stone lingeringly on the lips. “I missed you,” she whispered.

He didn’t look pleased with the affection but he didn’t turn her away either. I noticed his hand even rested on her waist for a moment.

“There is no elevator. Again, had to stick with historical restoration code,” he said as I walked inside.

“Which is a pain when you have bags to carry upstairs,” Presley whined.

I’d been so silent I decided I should say something. “I bet carrying the groceries up can be difficult.” I figured that sounded like something she would be annoyed with. This place was beautiful and I couldn’t imagine she had any reason to complain. Telling her that wouldn’t win her over though.

She laughed. “Why would I carry groceries up the stairs? The delivery service does that when we order.”

There was a delivery service for groceries? I started to ask that out loud and decided against it. She’d just find that amusing too.

Stone started up the stairs, and Presley rushed to stay beside him. I followed them up as she whispered and giggled in his ear. He never responded, but he never pushed her away either.

I didn’t belong here. I suddenly realized that I didn’t belong anywhere and I hadn’t since my mother passed away. I was determined not to feel sorry for myself. I had a bed to sleep in tonight. My situation could be worse.

...
tօ ɮɛ ċօռtɨռʊɛɖ. ɖօռ't ʄօʀɢɛt tօ ʟɨҡɛ aռɖ ċօʍʍɛռt 🤭