Page 15 of Just a Little Crush

She flashed me an almost triumphant smile. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Come on,” I said to Stevie, and with a hand at her back, I guided her down the hall until we were in my bedroom.

Once we were there, I turned her around to face me and curved my hands around the side of her neck. She wouldn’t look at me, so I used my thumbs to tip her chin back, forcing her gaze to meet mine. The vulnerability I saw there felt like a kick to my stomach because I knew how strong and resilient Stevie was. This situation had clearly rattled her.

“I’m so damn sorry,” I said, my voice gruff with frustration. “I had no idea she was dropping Owen off early. I never would have knowingly put you in that position.”

“I know it’s not your fault, and it’s fine.I’mfine,” she lied, giving me a tremulous smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I should go…but my dress, bra, and shoes are still in the living room from last night.”

Shit.More ammunition for Alyssa. “No, I want you to stay,” I insisted, because the last thing I wanted was Stevie leaving with my ex’s offensive remark swirling in her head and ruining our night together, which told me just how much I already cared about her. “Let me handle this situation with Alyssa first, and then we can talk. Please.”

Her lips pursed, and I could see her internal debate, but much to my relief, she finally relented with a soft, “Okay.”

Satisfied with that, I grabbed a T-shirt and shrugged it on, then stopped by Owen’s bedroom and yeah, he was already on his Xbox, immersed in the world of Minecraft. He was still blissfully oblivious to the tension between adults, and for once I was grateful for the game’s distraction.

I ruffled his hair to get his attention. “Hey, bud. I need you to wear your headphones for a while.” The last thing I wanted was for him to hear what was undoubtedly going to be a heated conversation between his mother and me.

“Okay,” he said, and without question he reached for the headset and covered up his ears.

I headed back out to the living room, where Alyssa had already made herself comfortable on the couch and was texting someone on her phone. It struck me, not for the first time, that for someone who was so outwardly beautiful, she was ugly on the inside. Selfish, mean, and manipulative. And bitter. She hadn’t always been that way, but since the divorce those unattractive characteristics had magnified to the point that she was just toxic.

The fact that she could sit there so casually, as if she hadn’t just belittled Stevie and called her a whore, made my blood pressure rise. “What the fuck, Alyssa?” I hissed furiously, not even knowing where to start when I had so many things to address. “What are you doing here? Owen has a drop-off time of two this afternoon, nottenthis morning.”

She set her phone aside and glanced at me, where I was standing on the other side of the coffee table that separated us. “He was whining and complaining and driving me nuts about getting home so he could play Minecraft.”

And she’d clearly had ulterior motives and wanted to know if what Cece had told her about me bringing a woman up to my place last night was accurate. I had no doubts about that. “Regardless, you should have given me a heads-up that you were dropping him off early.”

She smirked and arched a condescending brow. “And what, spoil the surprise?”

I jammed my hands on my hips, beyond enraged at her gall. “So, you admit that you did it deliberately.”

Her shrug was pure arrogance. “I’ll admit, I was curious to see if what Cece said was true.”

My jaw clenched hard. “It’s none of your fucking business what I do, and who I bring up to my place, when I don’t have Owen.” I stretched my hand out toward her. “Give me your key card to the penthouse.”

She stiffened against the couch cushions, clearly not expecting that demand. “Why? You gave it to me so I’d have it in case of emergencies.”

“Exactly.” Which had never been a problem until now. “And considering you abused that power, and I’m not obligated to give you a key card to my place, I want it back. From now on, when you’re bringing Owen home or picking him up, you can call or text me and I will allow Frank to send you up,” I said of the doorman who vetted guests in the lobby. “Or I will meet you in the lobby. The choice will be mine, not yours.”

Anger flashed in her eyes, but knowing I held the power in this situation, she dug into her purse and removed the key card from her wallet. Instead of handing it to me like any rational person would, she tossed it at my chest like a petulant child. Before I could grab it, the key card fell to the floor at my feet, and I picked it up, slipping it into my sweatpants’ pocket.

Her gaze landed on the articles of clothing on the living room floor that wouldn’t have been there had she arrived that afternoon at the designated time. “Jesus, when did you become so fucking tacky?” she asked, waving a hand at Stevie’s discarded dress, bra, and shoes that made it very obvious what had transpired in front of the windows last night.

When did you become such a fucking bitch? Oh, wait, you’ve been that way for the past few years.I swallowed back the retort, refusing to engage with her.

I was right on the verge of telling her to leave when she asked, “So, who is the woman you brought home for the night?”

“None of your goddamn business.”

“Oh, I think it is,” she refuted.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Lyss,” I countered, knowing that was part of her issue.

She leaned back against the sofa, a devious look in her eyes. “I have every right to know who you’re bringing around Owen. Surely you haven’t forgotten that morality clause you insisted on adding to our divorce settlement?”

My stomach clenched. Of course I remembered. I’d been the one who’d demanded the morality clause based onheractions that led to our divorce. It had been my only way to try to regulate her behavior around Owen, which excluded allowing random men into her home and barring the use of alcohol and drugs when Owen was with her. It was ironic that she was now turning the tables on me, though I should have seen it coming.

“Those stipulations go both ways,” she went on, glancing at her manicured nails as if she were discussing the weather and not issuing a threat. “If I remember correctly, it prohibits either of us from bringing around casual sex partners. You being in violation of the morality clause is not going to reflect well on you for the custody case. Hell, it might even cost you custody of Owen.”

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