Melissa

The Next Day

“Bitch, I’m on my way, alright? I’ll be there soon,” Chrissie’s voice came through the phone, all breathless excitement and chaos.

When I told her Michael agreed for her to come over, she lost her damn mind. Screamed like she’d won the lottery. I couldn’t blame her. I missed her too. I needed her. There was too much in my head - Jamal, my mom, and this new life in a house that still felt too big and too quiet.

Last night, I got a text from Alex. It surprised me. I didn’t expect to hear from him again so soon.

> Alex: Hey. Alex here. How’s your head?

> Me: It’s fine, thanks. I’ll survive.

I tried to sound chill, to downplay everything. I wanted to seem cool.

> Alex: Glad to hear that. Um… I know we just met, but a couple of my friends and I are going out to this nightclub tonight for some drinks. I was hoping you could come.

> Me: Sounds fun, but my best friend is coming into town tomorrow. I really wanted to spend time with her.

> Alex: That’s okay, but if you change your mind, just hit me up and I’ll send you the details.

> Me: Thanks, Alex.

> Alex: Goodnight, Melissa xxx.

Still, I hadn’t seen Jamal since our little elevator session. Not that I was trying to. I hated how he could just show up and take - take my body, take control, take space in my mind like he belonged there. Like I was his because I definitely wasn't.

And I hated myself even more for being so damn affected by him.

He knew exactly how to touch me. How to unravel me. How to drag out those slow, devastating orgasms that made my body beg for more even when my brain was screaming. No one else had ever done that. No one else even came close.

The worst part? I didn’t even know him. Not really. He was just this dark, brooding presence with eyes that stripped me bare and a body that haunted my sleep. He was my stepfather’s best friend, for Christ’s sake. What the hell was I thinking? What the hell was he thinking? He was too intense, too sensual for his own good. And if I wasn’t careful, Jamal would be the end of me.

He was already in my dreams. Now, he was creeping into my waking thoughts too. I couldn’t go a full hour without thinking about his mouth on my skin. I couldn’t stay still without remembering his hands between my thighs.

I was spiraling, tense, and dangerously close to texting him. I found out he had his number saved on my phone, the day he came to “return” it. Then I heard a car horn.

Chrissie.

I shot up and bolted downstairs.

The cab pulled up, and there she was—wild red curls, long waves, loud energy. I practically tackled her on the sidewalk.

“Took you long enough,” I said, wrapping her in a hug that felt like coming home.

“Missed me that much, huh?” she teased, smirking as she pulled her shades down to meet my eyes.

“Fucking shut up, bitch.” I laughed.

We both giggled like the chaos twins we were, grabbing her bags and heading inside.

Michael was descending the stairs with some stiff-looking guy in a suit—definitely a lawyer or someone equally boring. I introduced Chrissie quickly, watching the man nod politely before disappearing behind Michael.

We went to the elevator which took us up to the guest room set up for her, down the hall from my room. It was nearly identical to mine but in Chrissie’s favorite palette: black and white, sharp and elegant, like her.

She dropped her bags and turned to me with that feral look I knew too well. It was interrogation time.

“Okay. Now spill,” she said, dramatically flopping onto the bed. “Tell me about the hot grandpa you’re banging.”

“Oh my God, Chrissie…”

“Don’t ‘Oh my God’ me. You’ve been holding out. I want details.”

I hesitated. Then I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair and sitting beside her.

“I came back to my room after dinner on my first night here. Went to shower, right? But I forgot my towel in the room. So I came out naked, and Jamal was there. Just standing there like it was normal.”

“Shut. Up.”

“I swear,” I groaned. “I froze. And that’s how it happened. He didn’t even hesitate. Just… took over. So dominant. So fucking skilled. Chrissie, I’m still reeling. My legs barely worked the next morning.”

Chrissie screamed and rolled onto her back like a teenager at a sleepover.

“I hate you,” she cried. “You’re literally living my dream. Fuck…. Melissa”

“And yesterday,” I added, whispering now, “he fucked me inside the elevator.”

Her eyes widened like saucers. “The same one we rode up in?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, Melissa.”

“I know…”

“This man sounds like sex on legs.”

“He is,” I admitted. “But I don’t know much about him. Just that he’s Michael’s best friend. He’s always closed off and doesn’t talk much.”

“Well, he talks with his dick, apparently,” Chrissie muttered, eyes glinting with wicked amusement.

I groaned and fell back on the bed next to her, arm flung over my face. “And then there’s Alex.”

Chrissie sat up like a meerkat. “Who the fuck is Alex?”

“A guy I met in the park yesterday. Around our age. He texted last night, invited me to a club. I said no because I knew you were coming.”

Chrissie blinked at me. “What? I want to go to the club. And you need to be distracted - from this hot, sexy grandpa. Text him now. We need shots.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes but already reaching for my phone.

> Me: Hey, Alex. Change of plans. My bestie wants to go out. We’re in.

He replied within minutes, dropping the club name, time, and address.

“Done,” I told Chrissie. “We’re going out.”

We had the rest of the day to choose outfits—which meant full-blown fashion chaos.

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