Tainted Black - Williams Shanora (книги полностью бесплатно TXT) 📗

I covered my face with my hands, swiping aggravated wetness away before anyone came down and spotted me. I dropped my hands, but when I happened to look to my left, someone unfamiliar sat at the counter with a cup of coffee in hand.

He had a natural tan complexion, similar to mine, eyes just as soft as someone clearly related to him—grey and filled with curiosity. He looked tall, with a broad chest and wicked, chiseled features. Dark, curly hair that was cropped and cut perfectly around the edges. Professional. Clean. His looks were sort of intimidating, but there was a kindness that orbited around him, proving I couldn’t judge on sight.

He was just about to take a quick sip of the brew, but I was sure my entrance caught his full attention. I gasped, pressing a hand to the heart of my chest. “Ohmygod.” The words flew out my mouth like a torpedo. My face turned as red as a cherry.

He put on a smile that seemed genuine and somewhat titillated. He was concerned, but by the way his eyes roamed my body, he clearly liked what he saw. I ignored his ogling. I’d become used to it after spending three years in a college full of horny, young men.

This guy looked like he’d just graduated college, not the age of twenty-nine like Margie had mentioned. He must have landed his teaching job very young. Lucky man. He had a youthful yet attractive face. I pulled my shit together, clearing the remainder of tears from my face and waving in his direction.

“Hi,” he said then mashed his lips together. He studied my wet eyes. The urge to ask what was wrong with me was most likely on the edge of his tongue, but I was glad he didn’t bother.

“Uh. Hey. Sorry.” I swallowed hard. “You must be Sterling.”

“Yes. And you must be Chloe.”

“Yep.” I felt super awkward and really stupid.

“Hmm.” He made a noise, almost like a small laugh. “Great to meet you, Chloe.”

He started to stand from the bar stool with his hand stuck out, but I fidgeted and he came to a swift halt. I wasn’t up for handshakes or touching. He caught the hint, taking his seat and picking up his coffee again. He looked away from me. “I should go up to my room, let you finish your breakfast.”

“Oh yeah. Please, go ahead. Don’t mind me.” He encouraged me to go. I was glad he didn’t make me feel any more pathetic. I collected myself, told Sterling it was nice to meet him, and then scampered out of the kitchen, hurrying up the stairs and into my bedroom. I could hear Margie in my dad’s room, arguing with him about getting dressed.

I didn’t have the time or patience to deal with that right now. I decided it was best to allow Margie to handle her job alone. After all, it was her job. Even if the son she hadn’t seen in three years was drinking coffee alone downstairs, most likely awaiting her presence.

Poor boy.

I felt sorry that he had to witness my outrage as well as listen to my father’s stubbornness. I had no doubt he wondered where Mom was. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d considered the Knight family a little dysfunctional.

Entering my room, I shut and locked my door behind me but hurried to the window, almost tripping over my blue rug just to make it across. His window was open, the curtains pulled aside, but he was nowhere in sight.

God, he was a jerk.

I couldn’t believe he’d said that to me. Me? The girl that made him feel everything. I didn’t mean to boast, but he made me feel alive too. And to say that right to my face? And then use Trixie’s hoe-ass as his excuse?

No. I just couldn’t deal.

Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t things just be simple and easy? Why couldn’t I just have them both? I could have told Izzy that I was sleeping with her dad, but there was a large risk of losing her. She wouldn’t have respected that or tolerated it. Plus, Izzy spoke her mind a lot, a trait she clearly got from her father.

She wouldn’t have sugarcoated anything. Not her feelings. Not how stupid we may have looked together. Not even how our friendship would surely be over.

We loved to talk boys, but it would have been weird as hell to talk about her dad. There would be boundaries. Everything would change. Izzy and I had this plan of moving in together once school was over. She’d be my roommate until we were in our thirties and engaged with great careers to back us up.

None of that would happen, though, if she found out about Theo and me. Not only that, I would have hated for Theo to ruin the solid relationship he had with his daughter because he was too busy sleeping with her best friend. I couldn’t be the blurred line that stood between them. I was closest to her. She trusted me to never hurt her. The love we had for one another was immense, so it was easy to hurt one another.

It was bad. And dirty. And wrong.

And I wasn’t bad or dirty or wrong unless I was around him.

Shit. Some things needed to change.

This was my wake up call.

Stop now, or you never will.

Three long and boring days went by, and I spent every single one of them at home. I didn’t even bother going for my daily jogs. I knew, if I did, I would run into him. So I took up swimming a few laps in our pool.

I would have enjoyed it more, but I always felt someone watching me. The weight would be heavy, pressing into my back, and when I’d turn or look towards my house as I climbed out the pool, I’d see the guestroom curtains drawn and Sterling Martinez standing only inches away from the window.

He’d smile, but I wouldn’t bother. I’d pick up my towel, watching him as I walked away until I could no longer see him. I swear, there was something about him that weirded me about. Yes, he was sweet and he clearly loved his mother by the way he kissed her on the cheek every morning, but he stared way too much.

No, it wasn’t a stare of admiration or even interest. It was a deep stare, like he knew many secrets about me that I’d never told anyone.

Each day, I’d pass Sterling in the living room or the kitchen. When I was making lunch after my swims, he would walk in, wave lightly with a suave greeting, and then step behind me to get to the fridge. He’d purposely step by me, and the hairs would prick the length of my spine. The feeling was… bizarre. Yes, it crept me out, but it also gave me a cool, comforting chill.

“Sterling.” I’d greet him in the flattest way possible, as if I’d known him for years and simply tolerated his presence. Like I said, weird.

On another note, during those three days I’d received constant calls and texts from Theo. I didn’t respond to any of them. In order for me to keep myself in check, I had to keep my distance. Trust me, I wanted to give in infinite times, call back after he left a voicemail, begging me to return to his call.

The third night, I received the maximum number of calls from him. Six. Maybe I wasn’t as desperate as I thought. We were obviously on the same level. I may have overreacted the other day, but he knew the reason why.

And he also knew it was wrong to continue this fucking charade. Pretending not to care. Pretending this wasn’t more than what we both knew it was. We’d taken it too far in only one week. Imagine how far we’d have gone in two months.

That night, I lay in bed, staring up at the stars on my ceiling again. I felt hopeless, ending it like that. Were we over? Would he give up on the calls? Stop texting me or even bother with me once he came to the realization that I was right about trying to let it go? I say “trying” because I wasn’t ready.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or the last night I spent with him. How I slept with him, cuddled up the entire night and inhaling his unique, manly scent. He got so hard for me the next morning, coming because it was me that made it happen.

I sighed, rolling over. It was nearing midnight. I stared ahead at the neon green numbers on the alarm clock across from me. I wasn’t sleepy. Sleep would be nearly impossible with a mind this overcrowded.