10. Millie
Afinal swipe of the strawberry-flavored ChapStick across my lips, I tossed the only piece of makeup I owned onto the counter. Tonight was the night, my first date ever. I took extra time to actually blow-dry my hair, giving it a little more volume than normal. My palm smoothed down the front of my baby blue sweater.
My dark brown eyes clashed with my reflection and narrowed. I looked okay, but there was something distinctly missing that one should have when preparing for a date.
Butterflies.
Bubbles in my stomach.
Sweaty palms.
Hell, anything that would hint at excitement for the momentous occasion.
But none of those key indicators were there. Sure, I was a bit nervous, but that was more around what the hell we would talk about and how much ‘peopling’ was in me. More excitement filled me when seeing Killian in class than minutes before an actual date.
That made no sense, but here I was, dressed up and regretting ever saying yes to Chad. Maybe I should cancel and instead throw on my comfortable clothes and read all night.
A hard knock on the apartment’s front door made me jump. My stomach dropped. Too late to back out now. One more quick peek in the mirror, I inhaled a fortifying breath and started for the door, grabbing my purse and keys as I passed the kitchen.
Surely I was worrying for no reason. How bad could a date be?
Three hours later, I had an answer to that question.
Tragic.
Way worse than I could’ve expected.
If I woke up puking in twelve hours from the undercooked hamburger that the hole-in-the-wall restaurant claimed was the best in town, I wouldn’t be shocked. Even without the horrible food, I would’ve considered the night a tragedy.
The metal keys to my apartment bit into my skin, where my fingers curled around the ring like a lifeline as Chad walked me to the door, still talking.
He. Never. Stopped.
And it wasn’t about anything mind-shattering or even mind-tingling. Nope, all those words were about one sport, football. Apparently, he played for Stanford, and for the last three hours, I learned every detail regarding the sport and his position. So he tossed an inflated ball through the air and some guy caught it. Big deal.
And apparently, that was the wrong response.
After that, Chad passionately defended why being the school’s quarterback was an enormous deal and explained his certain future in the NFL. While he went on and on, I discreetly googled beneath the table the average stats of NFL quarterbacks. Turned out, their average height and weight made Chad seem like a kindergartener. Nothing he could do about genes, so I thought he should cut his losses.
Yet another internal thought I should have kept to myself.
Not sure why he became so offended; I was only trying to prevent his future disappointment when he wasn’t selected to go pro—his terminology, not mine. It also wasn’t a brilliant idea to mention he should put more focus on his studies, so his so-called backup plan was more of a plan A.
“This is me.” I pointed at my door, my tone alluding to how utterly bored I was. Not that Chad noticed.
“Yeah, I picked you up here, remember?” He reached out, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. I jolted back at the contact and narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Why would I?” I tilted my head, not understanding. Why would he want to see inside my apartment? It was basic, safe and clean, but basic, nonetheless.
“I had a good time tonight,” Chad stated, instead of responding to my question. The tight smile spreading across his face made my stomach twist. Or maybe it was the E. coli I ingested earlier getting a head start on making this night even worse.
“Seriously?” I fisted the keys even tighter.
Chad closed in, crowding me until my back hit the apartment door. My heart rate kicked up, my pulse racing at the invasive proximity. I peeked down the walkway, hoping a neighbor would appear to save me.
“Seriously. You understand better than anyone else,” he rasped, hand coming to my waist. “You’re a great listener, and damn, this body.” Straight white teeth bit down on his lower lip as he stared at my heaving chest.
Pulse racing, I struggled to rein in my rapid breaths. “I want you to step back, Chad. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
He gave a slow headshake, eyes darkening. “You should invite me inside. I bought you dinner, after all. You could thank me by offering a drink or… more.”
That would be a hell no. “No, I think you need to leave.”
Chad’s wide smile froze. “I wondered what that asshole saw in you, and now I see it.”
“See what?” I asked, before sealing my lips closed. Damn curiosity. I shouldn’t play into his delusion of the night going well or that I gave a fuck about what he saw in me.
“You’re the girl who says no when she really means yes.”
Dread dropped in my gut like a thousand-pound weight. With no escape, I pressed both hands to his chest and shoved. Not that it did anything. Instead, it gave him the opportunity to capture both hands in one of his own.
“You need to leave,” I whispered, voice weak from fear pulsing through my veins.
“That’s not what you really want,” he sneered, stepping closer until his body had me pinned against the door.
Vomit rose along my throat at the feel of him hard against my stomach. The disgust shredded some of the fear keeping me frozen. Chad’s cheap cologne filled my lungs as I inhaled deep to scream.
But it turned out, I didn’t need to.
Help was already there.
“Everything good here, Velma?” If it weren’t for that nickname, I wouldn’t have known it was Killian. His voice, the hard frosty tone, was nothing I’d ever heard come from his lips.
“Hey there, Coop,” Chad called out, narrowed eyes locked on mine as he sneered. “What are you doing here?”
“Coming to see a friend, and I’m glad I did. Not much of a learner, are you?” Chad’s rancid breath brushed across my face with his scoff. “You have five seconds to step away from my Millie, or I’ll remove you myself. With more force than necessary, obviously.”
Chad didn’t get to respond before his pressing frame disappeared. Between blinks, Killian had removed the asshole and restrained both of Chad’s wrists in a single handhold while Killian’s other arm was wrapped around Chad’s neck. I blinked, unable to understand the sudden turn of events.
“I explained my expectations, you fuck nugget. And the consequences you’d receive if you didn’t meet them. Seems you need a more physical lesson to understand my basic expectations of how to treat any woman, but especially mine.”
My Millie.
Mine.
If it wasn’t for the door at my back, I would’ve stumbled. Killian’s words repeated in my mind like a mantra as I tried to make sense of what he implied. Lost in those confusing thoughts, Killian snapping my name brought me back to reality and the current issue, also known as Chad.
“Get inside, Millie, and forget about this asswipe’s version of a date.” With a snarl, he whipped his focus back to Chad. “I can’t believe you took her to Buck’s. I don’t even eat there, and I’ll eat anything that resembles food.” After giving the red-faced man a shake, Killian locked his aqua eyes on me, the hardness immediately dimming. “Go inside, lock the door behind you, and I’ll make sure Chaddy here gets a thorough lesson on how to respect and treat women.”
With a shaky nod, I turned to the door, checking over my shoulder once I slipped the key into the deadbolt, only to find Killian dragging a kicking and twisting Chad down the sidewalk toward the darkened parking lot.
“Killian,” I barely whispered, but his head whipped my way, clearly having heard me. “Can you…” I cleared my throat to steady the slight tremble. “Come back after you’re… done?”
Done with what, exactly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
He cocked his head to the side and smiled. “Sure, Velma. It might be late, though. I have a feeling teaching this idiot the basics will take a while. I mean, have you heard his answers in class? The idiot can barely spell mental health and is obviously shit with self-diagnosis.”
A smile crept across my lips as I shook my head. “I don’t mind. Just… I want to make sure you’re okay.” Because deep down, I knew Killian had zero plans to talk through his expectations with Chad. There was a darker side to my friend that I couldn’t pinpoint, but it was there, simmering under the surface. And somehow, I also knew that he didn’t like that side of himself, almost as if it wasn’t natural, but something that was… twisted by someone else.
But I also knew something that Killian didn’t.
That dark side didn’t scare me. It did the opposite. Like now, I should be appalled at the thought of Killian hurting Chad on my behalf. But I wasn’t. Instead, my heart swelled with gratitude, and my panties turned damp.
“Okay, Millie,” Killian rasped as he fought to keep the restraining hold on Chad. “I’ll come back to you.”
As I stepped into the tiny apartment and closed the door behind me, I smiled despite the dramatic and terrifying turn of the night. Because for the first time since I started getting ready for the stupid waste-of-time-and-energy date, excitement hummed through my veins. Killian would come back, because I asked him to. Not for a date or a drink, but because I simply asked.
My sexy-as-hell friend would come back.
Just for me.
Or so I thought.
Sunlight poured through the sliding glass patio doors, burning through my closed lids the following morning. With a groan, I sat up from the awkward angle against the couch arm where I had apparently fallen asleep. Disappointment at waking up alone, which was normal but not what I expected, had my already queasy stomach cramping. Fist pressed into my abdomen, I shifted on the couch to take in the living room. My watery gaze landed on the closed door. Locked up tight, just the way I left it.
Swallowing past the emotions clogging my throat, I stood and stretched both arms high over my head. Discomfort pulsed from the tight muscles along my spine and stiff neck. Mouth open in a wide yawn, I stilled, hands frozen in the air, at the unusual feeling along my cheek. With a careful touch, I brushed a single fingertip along my cheekbone, a dry texture flaking off.
Hurrying to the bathroom, hip-checking the couch and barely staying upright, I flipped on the overhead light. “What the hell?” Both hip bones dug into the vanity as I leaned closer to the mirror, head angling one way, then the other while pressing along the red streak coating the small patch of skin.
Cabinet doors slammed with my frantic search before yanking a clean washcloth from beneath the sink. Wetting a small section, I swiped the soft cotton against the mark before examining the white cloth that was now tinted pink. Inspecting my face again in the mirror, searching for the abrasion that caused the blood, I couldn’t uncover a single mark.
Confused on so many levels, I mindlessly shuffled to the kitchen for something that would settle the gurgling in my stomach, only to draw up short, gaze catching on a ripped piece of paper sitting on the Formica countertop. Expecting someone to jump out and attack, I hesitantly inched closer.
The earlier disappointment swelled into something I couldn’t quite describe. Hand to my chest, I read the note, tears in my eyes as I swayed on my feet.
Velma,
You were zonked out when I stopped by and didn’t want to wake you. Everything is all good. Chad won’t bother you again. See you in class.
—K
P.S.—You snore.
P.P.S.—I’m lying.
P.P.P.S.—What were you dreaming about? It sounded… good.
P.P.P.P.S.—I expect all the details.
P.P.P.P.P.S.—Sorry about the smudge. I didn’t want to wake you trying to clean it off. My bad. I just couldn’t resist.
The note trembledin my hand. Unseeing gaze staring out into the living room, I felt heat flush my cheeks as I recalled the dirty dream. Killian was right. The dream was good, more of an epic fantasy, if I was honest.
Setting the note aside, brows furrowed, I moved to the door. My fingertips brushed against the hard metal. The deadbolt was turned in the lock position, just like I left it last night before crawling onto the couch to wait for Killian.
So how in the hell did he get into my locked apartment?
And what did that mean, he couldn’t resist?
Resist what?