This is War (Checkmate Duet 1)

“Go study in your borrowed room,” I retort. “I pay rent here.”

“Maybe I should go.” Scrawny boy starts shuffling his books, preparing to stand up until Viola grabs his wrist and yanks him back down. Even she is overpowering him with her small frame.

“No,” she demands, her lips pull in a tight line. “Just pretend he isn’t here.”

I scoff. Right. If she were capable of that, we wouldn’t be in this little war.

I busy myself in the kitchen, grabbing a bag of frozen peas, and just because I need a little extra pain reliever, the bottle of tequila.

I sit on the chair adjacent from the couch, where Viola and her little study buddy are sitting. She avoids looking at me as she scoots herself closer to him, pressing a hand to his arm.

“So Professor Gable’s study guide is only about half of what he actually puts on his finals,” she explains, leaning over to show him the packet. And by leaning over, she’s actually giving him a VIP look down her shirt. Intentionally, I’m sure, considering they were at least a foot apart when I first walked in. “So what we’ll need to focus on is everything else you took notes on during the semester.”

“I don’t have any notes,” he states, and I roll my eyes. Sure he doesn’t.

“I might have some notecards from his class in my binder. We can go look in my room if you want.” She accentuates dramatically, stacking up her notebooks on her lap. “Plus, it’ll be less distracting.”

She finally turns and looks at me, glaring, until she sees my cheek and her face drop.

“What happened to you?” Her voice is sincere, worried even, but I don’t take the bait. She leans over, getting a better look and cringes. “Jesus.” Her hand reaches out to touch it, but she catches herself and drops it back in her lap.

Her little boy toy looks annoyed, and I use it to my advantage. I look between them and can see what he’s obviously doing here. He’s not here for his tutor session. He’s probably been eye-fucking her and undressing her in his head since before I arrived. I can’t blame him.

I tilt my lips up and stare into her blue eyes, filled with genuine sincerity and shrug casually. “Sex injury. No big deal.”

Her lips part as a soft gasp releases, her eyes narrowing as if she’s ready to pounce me and claw at my throat like a vicious animal. Just the reaction I was hoping for.

“Uh, I’m going to get going, Viola. I’ll see you next week.” Her little fun toy grabs his things and this time she doesn’t stop him.

She crosses her arms and keeps her eyes locked on mine long after the front door clicks. We’re alone again, which has already proven to not be a good thing.

“You aren’t blinking,” I say, furrowing my brows.

She finally moves, collecting her books and storming off.

“Okay, then!” I yell as she stomps down the hallway. “Good talk.”

I shake my head and decide to shut the TV off and jump in the shower instead. I need a release after dealing with her.

VIOLA

I hear the bathroom door shut, and the shower starts moments later. This is my chance to get the asshole back.

I wait a few minutes and plan my revenge. After grabbing a few large garbage bags, I head to his room and clean out the couple of drawers he has filled. Then I head to his closet and stuff all his expensive suits and shirts in another bag. I grab everything from his boxer shorts to his bed sheets.

If that motherfucker wants to take my towel and clothes to humiliate me, he’s going to have to walk out of the damn house to get his back.

A devilish smile breaks across my face and soon the adrenaline takes over my body. I head to the linen closet and grab all the towels and put them in another bag. I know I’m running out of time, so I quickly collect all the bags and drag them to the door. Before I walk out, I run back in, lock Drew’s bedroom door, and tiptoe into the bathroom. I collect his towel and clothes off the floor, leaving him with absolutely nothing. Then just for fun, I flush the toilet and dash out of the door as fast as I can, hearing him scream at me in the distance.

Take that, asshole.

I rush for the door, grab the three bags, and run out of the house. I open the trunk to my car and stuff them all inside.

If he wants them, he’s going to have to come get them—naked.

“Viola!” I hear him yell from the bathroom shortly after I walk back inside the house. “Goddammit, Viola.”

I bite my lip to keep the satisfied smile from forming. “What?” I yell from the other side of the bathroom door.