Page 154 of Traces Of You
“I’m going to take a shower and then maybe, you know, you and I can have a little fun in the bedroom,” Fredrick said, wiggling his eyebrows, his hand landing on her ass.
She barely kept the gag in place. “Maybe another day. I’m not feeling so well.”
“Your face is red,” Fredrick said, his hand going to her temple. “I hope you’re not coming down with something.”
“Me too,” she said, walking to the kitchen. She needed water to cool her scorching throat that wanted to scream at him.
The minute he was in the bathroom, she picked his phone up from the counter. Two guesses and she got his password right. Idiot used his own birthday.
She went through his texts and almost hurled. He couldn’t even delete the nasty things he was sending Lana. Ugh, it was adick pic! What the hell? She turned the phone sideways. He was using a filter for size. Asshole.
She shook her head and started typing.
He’d learn to mess with her!
***
The next day
“Hi, Meredith. Do you need help?”
His neighbor’s head snapped up, her ponytail swinging as she wrestled with a massive box on the porch. The irritation etched across her face wasn’t meant for him, it couldn’t be. He shoved that thought away.
“Hi, Karl. I’m good.”
But she wasn’t good. Not even close. Her movements were too jerky, her muttered growl too raw as she shoved the box aside with her foot, then kicked it again for good measure.
The Meredith he knew didn’t lose her patience. Didn’t snap. Didn’t unravel. So no, she wasn’t good.
“I can see you’re upset,” he said, his voice soft and coaxing. “Let me help.”
She sniffled, the sound splintering something deep inside his chest, and before he could stop himself he was crossing the distance and folding her into his arms. She stiffened briefly, sharp like a flinch, but he ignored it. She was surprised, that was all.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick. “I’m so upset. So angry.”
“What happened?”
His gaze slid past her shoulder into the open door where more boxes waited by the stairs. He strode in uninvited and lifted them easily. She didn’t argue. She never did with him.
“That’s Fredrick’s stuff. He’s leaving.”
A rush of heat flooded him. “Did he break up with you?”
Her answer hit like a spark to dry kindling. “No. A friend told me last night he’s cheating. I’m kicking him out. Tonight he’ll find out.”
Karl’s fingers flexed around the box, his knuckles whitening. Good. It would be finished. Erased. Removed from her life like all the other poor choices she’d been making.
“I never liked him,” he said tightly. “You’re too trusting, Meredith. Too… naïve.”
She only sighed and dragged her arm across her damp face before grabbing another box. “I know. I’m done with men for a while. Thanks for helping, Karl. I can always count on you.”
“My pleasure,” he murmured. “Anytime. Call me anytime.”
She nodded, retreating inside and shutting the door between them. Not the ending he wanted. But emotions made her clumsy. He’d help her learn to control them just like he’d mastered it.
He slipped back into his house and dialed his mother.
“Hi, Karl,” his mother answered, her tone clipped.
