Thick

Teeny,

Had to run out and do something. Stay put. I’ll be back soon.

PS. Don’t forget to eat.

Sitting next to the note is a giant chocolate muffin. I pick it up and take a bite out of it and moan at the taste. He’s so freaking sweet. I wonder where he had to run off to.

I polish off the muffin that makes me thirsty and when I turn I get a glass I see a white step stool up against one of the cabinets. I smile so big it almost hurts my face. He got me a step stool so I could reach stuff. When did he do that? I use it to get a glass then pour myself some milk. When I glance at the clock on the stove I know I need to go grab my phone really quick. I can get it and maybe my laptop. If I have both of those things I won’t have a reason to leave again unless he hints for me to, but I really don’t think he will. Bull seems to enjoy having me around as much as I enjoy being around him.

I open the front door and freeze when I see a woman standing there. She’s in a very polished suit and her blonde hair is pulled into a high, tight ponytail. She leans back, looking at the number of the apartment on the door then back at me.

“This is where Bull Davis lives, right?” She raises a perfect eyebrow at me.

“Yeah.” I shift on my feet, remembering what I’ve got on right now as she looks me up and down.

“How old are you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. It’s like she’s a teacher and I’ve been caught in the hallway without a pass.

“Is there something I can help you with? Bull’s not here right now.”

“You’re the girl that was with Bull at the grocery store when he assaulted that man.” She smiles and is weirdly happy about recognizing me.

I’d forgotten about that, but Bull didn’t assault anyone, that guy had it coming. All the hairs on my body stand up and I’m suspicious of why she’s asking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I step out into the hall and the door closes behind me. Crap. I reach for the handle a second before it closes, but it’s too late. It’s locked. I have my small purse in my hand and I start digging through it for my own keys.

“Yesterday at Corner Mart you were with millionaire Bull Davis.”

I stop what I’m doing and look up at her. Did she refer to Bull as a millionaire? I brush it off and go back to looking for my keys while she keeps on talking. I’m not paying her any attention at this point because I’m mad I locked myself out of Bull’s place. Now I’ll have to stalk my peephole all day.

“Got it!” I yip when my fingers wrap around the key to my place. I don’t hesitate as I put it in the lock and open my door. I go inside and quickly close it right in the woman’s face before locking it again. She bangs on the door and yells all kinds of crazy things.

My stomach turns to knots. What the heck is going on? I swear every time something wonderful happens in my life there’s always an accident that quickly follows. All I know right now is I need Bull more than anything.

Chapter Ten

Bull

My phone rings and I glance down at the screen to see it’s the maintenance man Jerry calling me. He usually only calls to schedule something, but Teeny is back in my apartment, so I worry it’s an emergency.

“Hello,” I say as I step away from the salesperson.

“There’s a problem outside your apartment,” he says without preamble.

“Where’s Teeny?” I grip the phone tighter as panic rises inside me.

“She’s in her apartment as far as I can tell, but you need to get here and handle this other woman. She says she’s here to see you, but she’s on your floor causing a disturbance, and if she doesn’t stop soon I’m calling the cops.”

“I’ll be right there.” Before I can hang up he’s still griping and complaining.

“There was never a problem in this building before that girl moved in across the hall from you.”

“Watch yourself,” I bark into the phone and I can hear shouting on the other end of the line.

“If she keeps bringing drama around here, she won’t be living here much longer!” I hear Jerry shout, and if he’s close to Teeny’s door I’m sure she hears it, too.

“Fuck.” I hang up the phone and go back to the counter. “Are we done here?” I ask the sales clerk, who nods quickly at me.

“Yes, Mr. Davis, all the paperwork is being emailed to you,” she says as she hands me my credit card.