Page 11 of I Blame the Rival

I choose his chest.

“Why are you here?”

“Always so hostile. Remember when you usedto like to see me?”

“Remember when you used to be a good person?”

Mila snorts and a ghost of a smile crosses Vector’s face.

“One of these days, little brother, you’re going to be grateful for who I turned out to be.”

I tilt my head back, finally making eye contact, “Will that be before or after you wind up in jail?”

His lip twitches and I look away. We’ve both had to make sacrifices over the years but it doesn’t seem to weigh him down the way it does me. While my brother seems to cruise through the shit storm that brought us here, it feels as though I’ve been dropped with the anchor and pretty soon I’m going to run out of air.

Letting out a sigh, I drop my gaze back down to his wide chest.

“Why are you here, Vector?”

“To give you this.” Reaching over the desk chair, he grabs a plain plastic bag and passes it to me. I take it without a word and Vector shakes his head.

“That’s my cue to leave. My good deed is done for the day.”

Mila chortles, coming round the desk to give my brother a hug goodbye. She has to stand on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, the orange reflection vest hanging loosely over her strapless crop top.

The dress code at Brock’s B&B was pretty casual before she started working here, but now it’s practically non-existent.

“Don’t go soft on us now, Vec. Come back soon, yeah?”

“Just for you, Mila.”

Vector takes his leave, letting the door slam shut behind him. My co-worker turns to me with a grin, “He’s so hot.”

I stare at her, taking in the easy smile, smooth brown skin, and long dark hair. We got together a few months after Mila started working here but it didn’t last long. She had her heart set on falling in love with a tragic hero and I fell short.

I had the tragic part down but not the hero.

“You know that’s my brother, right?”

She juts out a hip, the skin-tight blue jeans outlining the curve of her waist.

“That doesn’t make him any less hot.”

“He’s a bully.”

“He’s a hot bully. That makes a difference.” Mila flashes me another grin, “I’ve always loved a good villain.”

Guess I wasn’t much of a villain either.

“Whatever you say.”

I shake my head and wander over to the desk that has definitely been here since the store opened. The bulky wooden frame makes it impossible to move, so we’ve had to adjust the rest of the room accordingly.

Running my eyes over the stacked papers, I pick up the time sheet that tracks all the employee hours.

“Let me put it to you this way: a hero would charge into battle to save his girl, but a villain would destroy anyone who touches her. Now, which one sounds more romantic to you?”

“Neither. They both sound violent.” Flipping the pages until I find my name, I snag a pen from the desk and fill in my allotted time.

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