I’ve always been a hit it and quit kind of guy apart from one girl. I’ve never really cared if a girl walked into my parties or whatever with another guy. If they wanted me, then clearly something was missing with the other guy, right? I’ve always taken what I wanted without apology or regret.
But no matter how much I might have lusted after a girl, if she belonged to one of my boys, she was off limits. It’s not just bro code. It’s the code of family.
Apparently, Nova missed the message that you don’t go after your sister’s guy. I’ve never met her before or even seen her, but I remember the stories Heaven told me. How much of a handful she was even as a child. It looks like she didn’t outgrow the phase.
“So, Heaven really did bang the British rock god,” she says in a voice that she thinks is sexy, but it just sounds like she’s having difficulty breathing. “Have to say, I didn’t believe my brother when he told me. Can’t imagine what you could possibly see in her.”
I grit my teeth. Even if she would’ve said this to me yesterday, it would’ve pissed me off. No matter how angry I’ve ever been, I’ve never letanyonetalk shit about my pixie.
I’m a hypocrite. Sue me.
“I’m here to get Tyler,” I growl.
“Oohh. Is Mr. Billionaire irritated? Is it something I said? Or maybe you’re just irritated that you have to be here, right? Don’t worry, it pisses me off seeing her too, and I have to look at her every day.”
“That’s a lot of insecure jealousy you’re projecting there.” I bare a few teeth in a threatening grin. “You know when she used to talk about you, she called you difficult. She should’ve just said bitch.”
If you’ve seen one spoiled, entitled bitch, you’ve seen them all, and I’ve seen a lot more than one.
Her smirk falls. It’s replaced with a deep scowl that makes her even more unattractive. She could probably be beautiful if her attitude wasn’t shit.
The one thing that makes men smarter than women? We see a bitch and want nothing to do with them. A woman sees an asshole like me, andshe thinks it’s sexy. She’d be better staying far away.
“At least, I’m not a dead lay,” she mumbles.
“What makes you think she is?” I arch a brow with a look of curiosity lining my face. I am genuinely curious to hear her response.
She laughs like I’ve just asked the most ridiculous question. The girl really is a bitch. It just so happens, I am well versed. “Because Heaven is too tame for anything other than flat on her back.”
I chuckle darkly, moving into her space. “I don’t know. She always seemed to like being tied to my bench pretty well, but I kind of liked her tied to my bed with a spreader attached to her legs.” I get the exact reaction I’m wanting. Her mouth falls open and her eyes go wide. With a finger, I push her hanging mouth closed. Getting close to her ear, I growl with as much vitriol as I can invoke, which let’s face it, is a lot. “Now, if you please, could you please let them know I’m here?”
“She’s upstairs,” she huffs with irritation.
I snap my head in the direction of the stairs. “What are you waiting on? Hop to it, little girl.”
“Fucking asshole,” she mutters as she turns towards the stairs.
I step inside, closing the door behind me. I take in the state of the house. I didn’t pay much attention yesterday. Between her meddling friend and then our fuck and fight, I didn’t get much chance. But I’m looking now.
The house is clean but clutter litters every surface. I chuckle at that. She was always a mess. I was the OCD freak who needed every hanger facing in the right direction, all my shoes lined perfectly, and every can in the pantry facing with the label forward.
But the house needs nearly as much work inside as it does outside. The wallpaper is out of date and peeling nearly everywhere. The carpetmustbe close to twenty years old and threadbare in many places. There are water stains over the fireplace from a leaking chimney, I assume.
Photos hang on every wall and sit on every shelf of Heaven, her brother and sister, and Tyler. So many pictures of Tyler everywhere. So much that I’vemissed, taunting me. I choke down the anger that threatens. Not at Heaven this time. At the person who’s been the cause of all of this. The person who’s been the cause of every miserable event in my life.
When I’ve looked at all the pictures, I go to sit on the oversized, faded brown sofa. Across from it sits a laminate wood coffee table with papers scattered over the surface. Lots of legal papers, bills, and other things that I shouldn’t touch.
But I will.
Maybe someone else would consider it being nosey or meddlesome – a complete invasion of privacy – going through them. But I’m of the mindset that private things wouldn’t be left in the open for anyone to see. Besides, my son and his mother live here. I have a right to know what’s going on.
I sift through the stacks of medical bills. Heaven’s are there on top. My stomach clenches knowing why she has these.
I did some research on her condition. I learned that there are stages similar to someone with cancer. I want to know what stage sheis in. I want to know if sheis experiencing symptoms now. What treatments she is taking.
Some more bills for Alvin and Tina Sinclair, her parents. She hasn’t told me what happened, but my lawyer found out the day he drew up the papers for me over Tyler.
They died in an accident a few weeks ago. Apparently, her father was killed on impact, but her mother lived for a couple of more days. Heaven lived in an apartment about two miles from here until that day. I can only assume she moved in here to take care of her brother. It seems like something she would do.
