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The whiskey is sharp and burns down my throat, but when I lower the glass, I see a set of headlights coming up the drive, the SUV that they’re attached to struggling through the snow.
It’s Adam, either come to apologize or for a confrontation. Now that I’ve admitted I intend on having Melody for my own, I don’t really want either one for him. He should have just stayed away, and just called to let me know that he made it through the storm.
He takes his time coming inside, and I hear him stomping the snow off his boots and unzipping his coat. I’m in the receiving room, and as he passes, I call his name quietly. “Adam.”
My son freezes and turns around. “Can’t believe you’re still awake right now, old man.”
This old man is showing your girlfriend what a real man is, you little fucking prick, I think but restrain myself from voicing this out loud. “Well, I am. Where exactly are you going?”
There’s a single answer he can give me that’s wrong, and of course, it’s the one he blurts out. “The guest suite.”
“You mean Melody’s suite,” I correct, fighting to keep my features in check.
“Yeah, but Melody’s my girlfriend, so…” He shrugs. “Sorry about the commotion earlier. I don’t know what’s wrong with her right now. Stress from her eviction, I guess.”
I’m shocked and then, just as quickly, furious. How could he pretend to apologize while dropping all the blame at Melody’s feet? It’s unbelievable. “She has nothing to feel sorry for, and I’m sure she doesn’t need you apologizing for her, either. You fucked up, Adam. And you’re not going to the fucking guest suite, either. Your normal room is ready for you if you intend to stay.”
He barks a laugh, crossing his arms. “Sorry, but I’m not apologizing for trying to kiss my girl. Just because she feels like being an ice queen right now doesn’t mean she shouldn’t at least act grateful for being able to stay here. And yes, I intend on staying. In the guest suite.”
“Like hell you are.” I can’t keep sitting here anymore, with Adam hovering over me. Surging upwards, I stalk towards him. “Last chance. Apologize and go to your old room or get the fuck out.”
His features twist with rage, but my son knows he’s no match for me and has no choice except to back down. “Fine. Whatever. Sorry.”
I snort. “Since you’re still being a prick about it, let me lay down some rules for you, you fucking child. You can sleep here and nothing more. I don’t want to see you in my house during the day, ever. You don’t speak to Melody at all. She’s your ex now, and you’re going to respect her decision. If I find out that you’ve been messing with her, then I’ll not only throw your ass out, but I’ll also cut off the inheritance before you even get a chance to smell it. Got it?”
Adam swallows, looking stricken, but he nods after a minute. “Yeah…got it.”
I pick up the carafe of whiskey and pour another glass for myself only. “Good. Now get to bed and be out of my sight by 8 am.”
His lips tighten, like he’s trying to hold in more complaints, and with his eyes flashing, my son turns to leave.
There, he’s finally gone, and he knows in no uncertain terms that Melody is done with him. Just because he knows this fact doesn’t mean he’ll respect it, and I don’t love the idea of him and Melody both sleeping under the same roof with the way he tried to force himself on her, but this is the best solution for the time being.
I pick up my glass and finish the whiskey, thinking that as soon as this snow lets up, I’ll hire someone to install a lock on Melody’s door for her, one that only I have the key for.
Unless she moves into my room sooner rather than later. Of all the options, that’s the one I like the most.
Despite being up late as hell, I’m up early as always, working out harder in the home gym than usual to burn off some of the need. It helps, barely, but at least I’m not going to be rock-hard at breakfast.
Just like I commanded, Adam is long gone by the time I make my way to the dining room, his SUV gone. The snow has stopped, and while it’s high as hell, at least we aren’t trapped. Not that I plan on leaving with such a delicious distraction existing right within these walls.
Melody comes to breakfast with her hair still mussed from sleep and a matching yoga set that leaves little to the imagination. It’s a dark pink, and it makes the blush on her face stand out when she sees me.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice almost a whisper.
“Good morning, Melody,” I wave towards the chair next to me, where she sat just last night. “Join me.”
She does, and I ask her what she’d like, loading her plate with fresh fruit and pancakes, along with a glass of fresh orange juice. She protests that she can serve herself, but to hell with that. I want to serve her, to take care of her, and I feel a fierce pleasure when I see her take her first bite and smile in joy.
“It’s so good,” she admits, taking another huge bite. “I haven’t had fresh fruit in forever.”
I frown. “What? Why?”
Shame flashes over her face, and she sits her fork down. “I’m sure Adam told you I got evicted…well, it obviously sucks, but I could barely afford food anyway. I ate a lot of ramen and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, so this is really nice.”
When she sees how my expression darkens, she quickly adds, “I got hot meals when I was working at the diner, of course! But it isn’t exactly a fresh fruit sort of joint, you know.”
“The diner?” I pick up my own fork and cut into my egg with it, spilling yellow yolk. Melody watches me and follows suit, taking another bite of her own. Good.
