Two
Whit
“ G et your damn head on straight. No son of mine is going to be in some fucking rock band. Now that you’re out, you’re getting a degree,” my father seethes across from me. His new office—complete with marble floors and heavy-draped windows—screams arrogance, and everything about it feels fake. The massive mahogany desk that separates us looks more like a prison wall than anything functional. I roll my eyes and sink deeper into the plush leather seat, bracing myself against the contempt creeping up like tendrils of smoke in my throat.
“Don’t call me son when we both know you’ve never been a father to me or to any of the offspring you sired,” I shoot back, tossing my battered boots onto his pristine desk. He inhales sharply, the oxygen caught in his throat, and I can see the flush creeping into his cheeks—not out of shame, but anger.
What a fucking asshole.
I can’t stand the sight of him.
The tension in the room crackles between us, thick and palpable. The way the vein in his temple throbs indicates the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior. “You think you can just waltz in here and disrespect me?” he snarls, his voice low and menacing, teeth clenched. “I’ve worked too hard to let you ruin everything.”
I let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing like an unfinished symphony against the cold walls. “Me, ruin? No, I think you mean like how you ruined everything! Reagan died without me there because you’re some sick fuck. You even sent Mom to an early grave once she found your hidden stash!” My fists clench at the memory, the urge to hit the bastard simmering just below the surface.
His dark eyes narrow, a glimmer of ire sparking in their depths and for a fleeting moment, I recognize the sheer, unfiltered fury he reserves just for me. “Shut the hell up. They should have kept you longer. Maybe then you would be a more grateful prick,” he snaps, his voice barely containing the explosion threatening to erupt. “And get your fucking feet off of my desk.”
“Ah, there he is,” I smile, leaning back with my arms crossed behind my head. “Don’t forget I know you, I grew up in the same fucking house. I know who you really are, even if you have these fools around here eating out of your hand. Everything will all come out in the end.” I drop my feet and lean forward, letting the tension coil around us like a serpent ready to strike. “Don’t get comfy. Your usual tricks couldn’t have worked for this promotion, so I’ll stop at nothing to unfold every last dirty secret that you have tucked away. After all, once a cheater, always a cheater, right?” My chuckle hangs in the air, dark and sinister.
Oh, daddy dearest, just wait.
He slams his fist on the desk, the sound resonating through the plush office like a gunshot. “You will do as you’re told, or you’ll regret it,” he declares, his tone low and threatening, the kind that sends shivers down anyone’s spine but mine.
I stand, the sound of the chair squeaking across the polished floor grating on my last nerve. “No, Sterling. You’re the one who’s going to regret it. Good luck lying your way out of this one. Oh, and I unenrolled because I don’t give a fuck about a stupid degree, especially one that would tie me to you in any way,” I announce, enjoying the sheer satisfaction I feel at seeing his eyes bugging out of his head. I turn and walk out, feeling the heat from his stare burning a hole in my back as I leave him seething behind his pretentious desk. He’s going to pay for what he did to my sister and mother, no matter what it takes.
I storm out of his building, my anger simmering like a volcano on the verge of eruption. Every step feels like I’m trying to shake off the suffocating presence of that man. My mind is a whirlpool of rage and frustration as I round the corner fast, colliding with someone and sending papers flying into the air.
“Watch it!” I snap, steadying the person before they fall. Then I see her—a red-haired goddess with stunning green eyes that lock onto mine, a flicker of defiance mixed with surprise.
“Sorry,” she mutters, her freckled cheeks flushing slightly as she bends down to gather her papers. Her hair cascades around her face like a fiery curtain, and for a moment, I’m mesmerized. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins from the confrontation with my father, but now for an entirely different reason.
I take a deep breath, trying to rein in my temper. “No harm done,” I state, my voice still edged with frustration, but I crouch down to help her. “Rough day?”
“You could say that,” she sighs, stuffing the papers into her bag with an almost fierce precision. There’s a fire in her eyes that piques my interest, a determination that cuts through the haze of my anger. She meets my gaze head on, unwavering. “Do you always help random people you run into?”
I chuckle, surprised at my own reaction. “Only the ones who look like they might make my day more interesting. I’m Whit, by the way.”
She rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Does that line actually work on others?”
I bark out a laugh, shaking my head. “Can’t say I’ve tried it before, but I’ll make a mental note that it’s a no-go. However, with the day I’ve had, I could use the distraction.”
A smirk plays at the corners of her mouth, but there’s no smile in her eyes. “I think maybe you should go back to the drawing board, Whit.”
The way my name rolls from her mouth stirs something deep inside me—an intriguing mix of desire and challenge. I’m almost feral with the need for this little firecracker. I stand there, the campus buzzing around us like a hive, yet it feels like we’re encased in our little bubble as the energy crackles in the air.
I offer her my hand, a half-hearted attempt to keep the connection alive. She hesitates before accepting, her warmth sending a shiver down my spine, drawing me in further.
“Fair enough,” I say, my tone darkening as I take a step closer, my confidence blooming in the face of her defiance. “How about you let me make it up to you? Coffee, maybe?”
She raises an eyebrow, considering my offer with an intensity that makes my heart race. “Bold move, considering you almost knocked me on my ass.”
I can’t help but grin. “Life’s too short to play it safe. What do you say?”
“Alright, but only because I could use the caffeine boost. I’ll never say no to coffee, so don’t feel special,” she admits, a hint of challenge lacing her words.
Her narrowed eyes house a smile that teases at the edges of seriousness. “And you think this will redeem your awful pick-up line?”
“Desperation calls for drastic measures,” I retort, shrugging my shoulders in a casual display that belies my racing heart.
“I see,” she muses, her smile now fully blossomed, infecting her features with a warmth that is hard to ignore. “I’m Scarlett.” She shrugs her heavy bag over her shoulder, asserting her presence without effort. I can’t help but notice how much I like the sight of her curves accentuated by her fitted clothes, igniting a heat within me.
“Here, let me carry that,” I gesture to her bag. “It’s the least I can do.”
“I’m fine. And you’re doing the least you can do. Coffee, remember?”
I chuckle, “Hey, if doing the least still gets us coffee, imagine what happens when I actually try.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I’ll believe it when I see it. For now, let’s stick to coffee and see if you can manage to keep up.” An undeniable burst of excitement flares to life within me as her skepticism laces her playful tone.
“Challenge accepted. By the end of this coffee, you’ll be asking me for an encore.”
We walk in silence for a moment, the anticipation simmering between us. The air is crisp, tinged with the smell of fallen leaves crunching beneath our feet. I sneak a glance at Scarlett, a curious fire dancing in her emerald eyes as she studies me deeply.
“You can’t just go around bouncing off people and expecting them to listen to your lines, you know.”
Damn, she’s fiery, just the type I’m drawn to.
“Fair point,” I agree, allowing an air of sincerity to seep into my voice. “But there’s just something…compelling about you.”
Her brows arch with skepticism, yet I notice a glimmer of amusement shining through. “You don’t even know me.”
Mmm, but I want to—intimately.
“Not yet…” The words linger as I appreciate her straightforwardness, teasing the edges of my intrigue. “The Java Bean is right around the corner.” I hold out my hand invitingly, gesturing for her to go ahead of me.
As we stroll, the environment buzzes with late afternoon energy, but my focus is solely on Scarlett. “You’re not a serial killer, are you?” she quips, half-joking; her tone skating on the edge of sincerity.
“Would a serial killer admit to being one?” I shoot back, a smirk curving my lips.
Scarlett laughs. It spills out like music into the air. I find that I relish the sound, like a good bourbon warming me from the inside despite the coolness surrounding us.
“That’s true, I suppose,” she concedes after a moment, her smile widening. But then she hesitates, her lips pressing together as she observes the leathers and tattoos that adorn me.
“Seriously though,” she murmurs, biting her lip. “Your whole…” She gestures towards my appearance, and I sense that hesitation. “Seems dangerous,” she admits, curiosity muddled with caution.
“Ah, so you’re a ‘judge a book by its cover’ type?”
“I—no, I mean, fuck. Sorry. It’s just been the worst couple of weeks. I didn’t mean it like that.” She glances away, embarrassment creeping into her cheeks, and suddenly I feel a surge of protectiveness wash over me.
What has her guard up?
Did someone hurt her?
Anger brews deep inside me. Because for some reason, I want to help. It’s baffling because I don’t do complicated, and from the moment I met Scarlett, it was clear she comes with her fair share of complexities. But just like that thought, the instinct to walk away vanishes from my mind; she isn’t getting away from me.
Maybe it’s fate. I’ve always believed the stars align for a reason, and meeting her feels like more than just a coincidence.
“Hey,” I begin, trying to soften my tone. “It’s fine. We all have those days.” I reach out, lightly gripping her arm to direct her gaze back to me, to make my point more tangible. “Look, I get it. I don’t fit in with this preppy school vibe. I never have, but that doesn’t mean I’m dangerous. Not in the way you’re thinking, at least.”
I offer a wink, desperate to lighten the atmosphere. Her eyes flicker with a mix of curiosity and caution.
“Not in the way I’m thinking?” she echoes, arching her eyebrow again, an invitation for me to delve deeper.
“Let’s just say I don’t bite, unless you ask me to.” Her eyes widen, and I see another wave of curiosity mixed with a hint of desire flicker across her jaded eyes.
Oh, my little flame, let the games begin.