Page 10 of The Pucking Girl Next Door

Sitting down at my parent's computer, I start shaking my body from the excess energy I'm feeling. Time to focus on the reality of my life, working for this company, hoping it's a steppingstone to something better, and keeping this witch off my back. I go back to my sent folder and can't help but roll my eyes when I see that I did in fact, send it to her. Resending the document, I take screenshots of both emails, that way, if she tries to throw me under the bus at work, I can prove that I did my job, because she's fucking useless.

Before going downstairs, I check the airline websites again to see if there are any flights in the near future, but to my dismay, the airport hasn't even re-opened yet. Feeling out of control, I try to ground myself by leaning my head against the desk. The coolness of the desk helps me, but I still can't help but feel like my life has just turned into a giant mess. A tear escapes my eye, opening the gates, for more to fall. I just let them slide down my face as every frustration and emotion I've felt over the last few years bubble up to the surface.

While I'm sitting in the office battling with my emotions, a deep voice comes from behind me. "Did you still want to watch that movie?"

Not wanting him to know that I was crying, I keep looking down and furiously try to wipe the tears from my face. "Uh, yeah. I'll be down in a minute," I lock my eyes on the ground as I try to keep my voice as neutral as possible, hoping that he doesn't notice the emotion.

"Are you crying?" he asks, and I can hear him moving closer to me.

"I'm fine," I mumble, hoping he doesn't ask too many more questions, because I don't want him to know how sad my life has become. He's here to relax and figure out his own life, not listen to me babble about my problems.

"You're not okay. What's wrong?" he asks as he swings the chair back toward him but I don't look at him, I continue keeping my eyes on the ground, not giving him what he wants.

I need to make sure I keep my guard up, letting it down around him will just lead to me getting my heartbroken. If I get too close to him, my crush will get worse, and I'll just end up hurting.

But Smith seems to oblivious to the war that is going on in my head because he doesn't give me any space. Gripping my chin, he forces me to look at him and snaps, "Annabelle. Don't lie to me."

Chapter 9

Smith

Her eyes light up with a fire in them when she hears me accuse her of lying to me. Fuck, yes. There she is. I love that fire in her, and fuck even though her brother is probably going to kill me she's going to be mine, and I'm going to make sure that the only tears that come from her will be because of happiness, or from the fierceness of her orgasms.

"I'm not lying. Everything is fine, Smith."

But first, I've got to make sure she knows she can't hide from me. I'll get every single fucking secret she has, including why she's up here crying all alone. "Bullshit," I call. "Why are you up here crying, then?"

Her cheeks flush with redness. This time it's not all from her crying. Some of it is from the anger that's rolling off her in waves. Though I'm not trying to piss her off, I love the fact that I'm affecting her in this way. It turns me on, especially when she shows her fire.

A good and fiery argument is great foreplay, and I have a feeling with her it's going to be amazing.

She narrows her eyes at me when she finally spits out, "Just feeling a bit sorry for myself since I'm here and my family isn't. Is that okay with you?"

I don't answer her right away. Keeping my eyes on her I lean over placing my hands on the office chair arms. We're so close it wouldn't take much for our lips to brush against each other. I don't doubt that she's missing her family. The Rogers have always been close, spending as much time together as possible. I know there's more to the story and she might not want to tell me right now, but she will eventually.

We continue to stare, neither of us willing to look away as we challenge one another. The longer we stare, I carefully take in more of her expression, trying to read her. We might've just reconnected, and it's harder for me to read her right now, but eventually I'll know every movement and what it means. Her eyes are glassy from crying and my chest tightens uncomfortably, knowing that she's probably been up here crying by herself for too long.

Moments later, I decide I've had enough of this staring contest. It’s doing nothing to solve whatever the problem is, just causing more pain. Time to pivot and use a different tactic to get her to talk. My eyes soften as I place my hand on her thigh, looking deep into her beautiful ocean eyes, I softly remind her, "I'm here. And we can try to make the best of it."

Her face relaxes when she pats my hand and stands up, forcing me to stand up along with her. "You're right. We're friends and we can make the best of this situation."

I bristle at her declaration of us being friends.

"No. We're not friends," I declare as I stand up to my full height.

"What do you mean we're not friends?" she asks, her voice shaking a bit, which makes me feel like a fucking asshole when I hear it.

"I mean, we're more than friends."

She shakes her head as she goes to leave the office, and I blindly follow her. When we we're kids, I always felt drawn to her, but didn't know why. I always thought it was because she was my best friend's little sister. My skin itched every time another boy got too close to her, the anger that would rip through me if I saw her even smile at someone else who wasn't me. I just wanted to always be around her, I didn't care as much as Steve did when she would tag along. Most of the time, I liked it.

When her family moved away, the protective feeling vanished. I never felt like that for anyone else after figuring it was just a stage from when I was a kid. When Steve and I went to college, he would talk about what his sister was up too, but he kept us separate from his family life.

But when she walked in through the door, and I saw her again for the first time in years, all of those feelings came back with a vengeance. Now, as a man, I know what those feelings were; feelings of love.

She's mine, and even though she thinks she can tell me that we won't be together, she's wrong.

Steve might be upset when I tell him about my feelings, but he'll just have to understand. He might have a few issues, but that won't matter because Annabelle Rogers will be mine.

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