Squeak

Decapitation

Jezebel

"Where do you want to study?"

Nowhere!

"Um...the living room would be preferable. I need to grab my material. There should be drinks in the fridge. Help yourself."

The words were barely out of my mouth when I flew up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

"Where's the pizza?" Erik asked once I entered the bedroom, looking and feeling like a panicked mess. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Keep your voice down," I whispered harshly after shutting the door.

"Wha—"

"Tucker is here!" I whispered, plopping down on the bed. Erik tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. It was adorable, but I knew he was seconds away from saying some not-so-adorable words.

"He delivered the pizza?"

"No! But I can see how you came to that conclusion. He showed up to study."

"Did you invite him?"

"No! And he came into the house without my permission. He just barged right in. What do I do?!"

"You can start by shutting the fuck up and letting me think."

I gave his inflamed knee a quick jab with my pointer finger and watched him excitedly as he bore down on his bottom lip and repeatedly punched my pillow.

I imagine he's picturing my face as he's going to town on my pillow.

"Can you hurry up and finish your temper tantrum? I have an unexpected, unwelcomed guest downstairs."

Erik glared at me, and a nefarious gleam flashed in his eyes. He would pay me back.

"Get your books and go study."

"What?!"

"Get your books and go study."

"I can't believe this. You-you should be trying to kick him out of the house," I said. I snatched Muffin up and began pacing my bedroom.

"Yeah, me and what knee?"

"What about your gun?"

"Jezebel Shae King—"

"Holmes."

"King. Stop fighting the inevitable, Squeak. Are you suggesting that I limp downstairs and blow that fucker's brains out?"

My head snapped back and forth. "No, no, no. I'm just suggesting that maybe you can scare him a little bit."

"If that's what you want, then your wish is my command. In the meantime, study and bring me some pizza and my wings when it gets here. And don't let Tucker know that I'm here. Thank God you parked the truck in the garage. Change your clothes; you're showing too much skin. At this point, you could wear a garbage bag and the asshole would still wanna fuck you."

I looked down at my attire and grimaced. I wore a white cotton tank top—no bra, black yoga shorts, and white over-the-knee thigh socks. "Good idea," I mumbled before rifling through Erik's t-shirt drawer.

I paused when I heard knocking on the door. "Jezebel?"

"Um...what are you doing up here, Tucker?" I turned to Erik, and he made obscene gestures with his hands. He pointed at me, then the door, before repeatedly sticking his index finger in a hole he created with his other hand.

"You've been gone a while. I thought I'd check up on you."

"I'm fine. I'm just changing. I'll be down in a second."