15. Melody
15
MELODY
C hase and I avoid each other for the next week. We orbit around like two opposing magnets, making excuses to leave the moment we run into each other. He’s been sneaking in once he thinks I’m asleep, and I leave before he even wakes up. I know we have a project to finish, but I can’t get the feel of him pressed against me out of my head. His confession of fucking his hand while picture me lives rent free in my mind and pops up every time, I look at him. The only reason he did something like that is just to mess with me, I reason. He hates me so much, that he’s trying to run me off. Only it’s just making me confused, because I liked it. And I hate myself for it.
Sitting on my bed, legs crossed, I lay out a pile of flashcards I’m studying when Chase barges in, barely acknowledging me before heading straight for the bathroom. The door is slightly ajar, granting me a visual of him peeling off his shirt. My entire body feels like it’s just been doused in flames as he reveals his Greek God like form.
Logically, I know I should look away, but I’m entranced seeing his muscles flex with every subtle movement.
“You like what you see?” He asks, eyes finding mine while he looks into the bathroom mirror.
Fuck.
I look away quickly and pick up a random flashcard as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. The word treble stares out at me from the hot pink card and I have to read it three times before I can actually make the word stick in my head.
The bathroom door slams, and I can feel the force of it vibrating in my body. I don’t know what he’s expecting from me. We’re roommates. Stepsiblings. There’s nothing that we could be. Even if things were different, he’s not my type.
He walks out in just a towel and roots around in his dresser, grabbing out a pile of clean clothes. I focus intently on the cards in front of me, hoping he’ll go away, and I can go back to studying.
Only he doesn’t go away.
He bends down and I peek finding his towel dipping enough to show a hint of his ass.
My eyes fly up to the ceiling and red stains my cheeks. Not him having the most sculpted ass ever.
Yep. Totally not my type. Who even likes Greek statues come to life? Not this girl right here. Couldn’t be me. My eyes fall back and yep, he’s still bent over.
Okay, I need to get out of here. My hands start hastily gathering my notecards in haphazardly put together piles. I have the overwhelming sense to leave before I do something stupid like rip off his towel and drop to my knees and suck him off.
“Don’t be shy, Melody. I know you’re struggling not to look at me,” he says.
I don’t know when he moved, but he’s standing at the foot of my bed, towel barely holding onto his body. It looks as if it’s about to drop at any moment.
“My eyes are up here, princess.” He gestures for me to look up and I could just crawl under the covers and pass away from how much I’ve been blatantly staring at his body.
Fine. Fuck. He’s hot as hell and I like the way he looks. So, sue me.
“Melody. Look at me.”
I raise my gaze to meet his eyes and I wish I chose to run out the front door, because as soon as his eyes are on me, I feel like he can see every depraved thought I’ve been having about him. Like he can see into my soul.
“What?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest, needing the illusion of not caring as if that can protect me.
“Are you going to keep avoiding me forever?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmm. So, you’re going to act like you’re not picturing what’s under this towel?”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you blushing?”
“It’s hot in here.”
“Right.” His hands flex on his hips. “Only, it’s 68 degrees in here.”
“Then maybe I’m getting a fever.” I’m trying my best to keep a scowl on my face, remembering what an ass he can be.
“Sick, huh?”
“Yep.” I fake cough. “Sick.”
“Well, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”
Every fiber in my being, every cell is aware of his movements. He crouches down until his face is level with mine. Those dark stormy eyes of his pin me to the spot and it feels hard to breathe all of a sudden.
His scent invades my space, and I fight the urge to inhale deeply to lock the warm spice fragrance that’s just him away in my brain.
“You probably shouldn’t be so close. I don’t want to get you sick.” The clothes draping over my skin feel too tight. The thin fabric of my gray cotton shirt strains along my ribs as I inhale. He’s just playing with me. Seeing if I’ll make a fool out of myself.
It’s embarrassing how much I want him to close the distance between us. I know I really shouldn’t want that. I’d be jailed in some countries for even entertaining the idea. Maybe that’s what this is. The allure of the forbidden. Knowing it’s wrong on so many levels but wanting it anyways. Oh, fuck. Do I have a crush on Chase Milford?
My eyes trail down his bare chest and catch on the prominent tenting pointing directly at me from behind the white towel. All it would take is just one small movement and the towel would topple to the ground, exposing every bit of him. I bite on my lip warring with myself.
His lips move closer, and line up with the shell of my ear. “What’s stopping you from taking what you want?” His breath is hot on my skin and a shiver runs down my spine as he licks the tip of my ear.
A buzzing comes from my phone, and I scramble to answer.
Chase frowns at me, clearly disappointed at being interrupted. Before I can even utter a hello, he’s striding across the room and closing the door to the bathroom. This time locking it behind him and leaving me emotionally wrecked in his wake.
“Mom?”
“Sweetheart!” Her voice sounds overly cheerful and I’m immediately suspicious of what she could want. “You got the invite to the wedding, right? Or do I need to fire that… what’s her name… for not doing her job?”
“I got it.”
“Well, I hadn’t heard back, so I assumed it was some clerical error, but I guess my daughter was too busy to RSVP to her only mother’s wedding.” The guilt she places on me weighs me down like she’s just put a boulder on my shoulders and asked me to carry it around while keeping a smile on my face.
“I’ve been busy with school.”
“Melody, I need to know if you’re coming, I don’t need your excuses.” She says, sounding exasperated. She hasn’t even asked me how I’m doing.
“I’ll be there.”
“Perfect. I’ll have your name added to the guest list and you can tag along with Chase to get here. He’ll be taking the private jet, so just ask him about it. Must dash, I’m late for a spa appointment.”
“Bye.”
The line goes dead, and I toss my phone on the bed, laying back with a groan.
Going to that wedding is the last thing I want to do, but I guess I don’t have much of a choice. I should go and show my appreciation for her new husband paying for my education.
I dread that place. When my mom used to work at the country club, I’d have to pick her up from her shift every once in a while, and the people there always treated me like I was dog shit they had to avoid. I can’t imagine going back now will be much different.
The sound of the shower starting jolts me from my misery. I wonder if he was listening in to my conversation.
I need a break, and if he comes out here again in that towel, I might actually jump his bones. So, I shove my feet in a pair of secondhand Birkenstocks and shove my flashcards into my bag. The library it is, then. I text Rhonda to see if she can meet up with me and practically run out of the room needing to put all the space between me and my menace of a stepbrother.
* * *
“You’re kidding.” Rhonda is sitting with her chin propped up on her hands, elbows on the table as she leans forward eating up every word. I needed to talk to someone about all of this, and none of my New York friends were available. While they said they were happy for me, they also had their own things going on. It broke my heart to not hear from them as often, and I wondered if it was because of my financial situation. Sometimes, people can let their jealousy ruin a perfectly good friendship. But if they can’t clap for you when you’re doing well, then they never really wanted you to do well to begin with.
“No. And I don’t even like him, I just?—”
“Oh, no hunny. You like him.”
“No, I hate him.”
Rhonda laughs. “Oh, you really like him. This is hilarious watching you try to fight it.”
“Okay. Maybe I kind of like him. How do I stop?”
“Hmm. Well, you can always try to hook up with someone else.”
I scrunch my nose at the thought. “I guess that’s one option.”
The library is mostly empty, and the sun is beginning to set, casting long shadows along the rows of books and desks. There’s a faintly musty smell that wafts along the blasts of heat radiating above every few minutes.
“Liam’s for sure out of the picture?” She asks, sitting back and crossing her legs.
“Yeah, I’m definitely not interested.”
“Okay, good. Well, I think I know of a couple single guys that are available. Oh! How about you come to the Mardi Gras party with me?”
“Tell me more.”
“It’s at Briar House, just over the ridge past the Arts & Music building.”
I vaguely recall where she’s talking about. Even though I’ve been here a few weeks, I still get turned around every once in a while. Must all the buildings look identical? I’d like to have a word with the architect, only they’re long dead. Their ghost is probably having a field day laughing at me every time I get lost.
“Okay. Count me in.”
“Awesome. Wear something super slutty.” She says wiggling her eyebrows. “We’ll have you hooked up with a hottie in no time.”