Cherry Lover (Cherry 2)

A moment later, she opened the door.

Pain sprinkled her eyes like stars in the sky. She wasn’t overtly surprised, but she didn’t give me any warmth either, as if this visit were completely unexpected. She kept her hand on the door like she needed something to hold on to. She was dressed in a thin red sweater that fit her hourglass frame wonderfully. The V-neck at the front hinted at her beautiful flesh and sexy tits. Her black jeans were snug and tight, molding to her sculpted legs perfectly. She was sexier than I remembered—and it’d only been a week since I’d last seen her.

Words failed me.

She found her footing first. “Hi…” That beautiful voice was soft like a rose petal.

Now I missed her even more. “Hi.”

“Uh, you want to come in?” She opened the door wider, revealing the staircase and chandelier behind her.

“Yeah.” I stepped inside and wiped my shoes on the rug. “I thought I would check on you…see how you like your new place.”

“Oh…” She didn’t hide her disappointment, as if she were hoping I’d stopped by for a different reason.

That was exactly what I feared.

“Well, I love it. I don’t have any furniture, but it’s still cozy.”

“Diane told me it’ll be here in a few weeks. She expedited everything.”

“As long as I have my air mattress and some wine, I’m fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest, purposely guarded now that she knew I was there for platonic reasons. That spark in her eyes had been extinguished. Nothing but pitch black remained behind.

Now I felt like a dick for stopping by. I was only there because I missed looking at her face, missed seeing those beautifully painted lips. I didn’t intend to screw her on that air mattress, but now that I was face-to-face with her, I wouldn’t mind a kiss.

But that would be cruel.

Footsteps sounded from the other room.

My eyes flicked into the living room in front of the fireplace, and then my brother came into view. With a glass of wine in his hand and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, he looked comfortable in her living room, like they’d been drinking for hours.

The need for affection died away—replaced by blood lust.

Coen was in her townhouse—after I told him he couldn’t have her.

He’d directly disobeyed me.

I felt my body stiffen everywhere, felt my eyes focus on him like two lasers. My muscles pumped with the increase in blood flow. Adrenaline prepared me for the fight about to take place. My knuckles ached to leave imprints in his cheekbones.

Monroe disrupted my frenzy with her sweet voice. “I invited Coen for some wine. He told me Simone has disappeared off the map…which is concerning.”

My eyes turned back to hers, unable to believe what I’d just heard.

She invited him?

Was Coen right? That they really did get along that well? I couldn’t believe that she wanted to screw my brother, but I could believe she was using him to feel better. But once the pain started to fade away, she would see him in a new light.

And then the past would repeat itself.

I stared at her without speaking, feeling the pain carve me like a knife. If I let her go, she would end up with someone else. But not just anyone else—my brother. The holidays would be spent with this woman at the table, her hand held in Coen’s. They would get married, and then she would be pregnant with his child.

She would let him fuck her.

My brother would fuck my woman.

My eyes turned back to Coen.

He behaved like he’d done nothing wrong, and if her story was true, then he really did do nothing wrong. She invited him over, and that was why he believed he had a chance with her. There was a glimmer of hope there.

Logic faded away, and all I felt was rage. Cold, merciless rage. I knocked the glass out of his hand, and it shattered on the floor with an audible crash. Before he could anticipate my moves, my fist was in buried in his face with enough force to break his skull in two. I gripped the front of his shirt and slugged him two more times before either of them could figure out what was happening.

“Slate!” Monroe grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back. “Stop!”

She was too weak to do anything, so I gripped him by the throat and punched him again, this time making his nose bleed.

“Slate!” She jumped on my back and locked her arms around my throat. “Stop it! Now!”

Coen twisted out of my grasp and fell back, his eyes already swollen and blood dripping down his face. “She invited me, asshole. Calm the fuck down.”

“She’s mine. I told you she was mine, so back off.” I felt Monroe crawl down my back now that the fight was over.