Carla
I eyed the woman exiting her car outside Havoc’s house. It was his ex. She was making her way up the path to the front door and he was in the kitchen on the phone to the hospital.
When she knocked on the door, I took great delight in answering it. Her wide eyes and surprise were enough to make my day. Hell, they made my fucking month. “It’s you again,” she said with scorn. Her eyes darted to try to see into the house.
“Yep, me again. Sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”
I hadn’t.
She didn’t need to know that.
“Kelly,” she retorted, trying to push past me.
I pushed back.
No way was she getting inside this house.
“Havoc’s busy,” I said before adding, “He’s actually just setting up our new sex swing. Can I pass on a message? No, scratch that. Havoc made it pretty clear to me that he never wanted to see you again.” I waved at her before shutting the door in her face.
“That was impressive.” Havoc’s voice sounded from behind me and I turned to find him with his arms crossed over his chest while he watched me with amusement.
I grinned. “That was kinda fun. It serves her right for interfering with us last time.”
He raised his brows. “A sex swing?”
Before I could reply to that, Kelly banged on the door. “Havoc! I know you’re in there. Let me in.”
Irritation flashed across his face and he took the few steps to the door. Pulling it open, he said, “I’m in here for everyone but you. Now fuck off.”
I loved the way he didn’t mince his words. I also loved that he stood his ground with the woman who'd ripped his heart out. He hadn’t told me a lot yet, but I knew enough to know that.
“Are you seriously choosing her over me? She’s not even your type.” Her words were mean and I wondered what she meant about his type.
“How the fuck do you know what my type is? It’s been two years since we broke up. A lot’s changed in that time.” His fury surrounded him and I was glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of it.
“Types don’t change,” she said. Geez, she never fucking gave up.
“You know what I realised, Kelly? I fuckin’ realised just this week that the reason I didn’t have a woman was because my compass was all out of fuckin’ whack. It was leading me to the wrong type. Thank Christ I made a pit stop one night in a bar I made a habit of never visiting. I found my type all right and she’s a fuckin’ angel. Now step the fuck back so I can close this goddamn door and go and show my woman how fuckin’ thankful I am that you’re a greedy bitch who decided I wasn’t good enough for her.”
He slammed the door in her face and turned to me, his face a mask of intent. My heart raced in my chest at his words. About me. Warmth flooded my body and I smiled at him.
I was lost for words after his declaration. I went with the first thing that came to mind. “That was a lot of fucks in those sentences.”
His eyes watched me with an intensity that caused my lady bits to start dancing with joy. “You good with those fucks?”
“I’m good with those fucks.”
“And with everything else I just said?”
I stepped into his space so our bodies were touching. “Oh, I am more than good with everything you just said. I’m particularly good with that part about showing me how thankful you are that—”
His lips crashed down onto mine and he did more than show me how thankful he was.
He brought heaven to my goddamn door.
Again.
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