Antidote by LC Lehesaho

33

Maybe it was a dream.

Maybe I didn't let him sleep in my bed, and perhaps he didn't hold me the whole night. Because fuck me if I fell for that. But my bed is empty, so there is a chance I wasn't that brainless after all.

Scrambling up, I check the clock on my phone and see Luke's text, informing me that he's coming to pick me up in an hour.

Having a headache is a part of me these days, so I'm not even a bit surprised by the pounding in the back of my skull. Wiping my eyes, I walk out of my bedroom, and then I realize that, yes, I have been an idiot.

The scent of fresh coffee floats to my nose like an enchanter.

A peek around the corner confirms my doubts.

Tiger’s eyes snap to me from the cup of coffee he is pouring at the moment. He has the same sweatpants on from last night, and he is still shirtless, which tells me that it wasn't a dream.

"I was bringing you coffee," he says, lifting the mug higher.

I stare at him for a while, not sure what I should say. So, I decide not to say anything, simply spin on my heels and walk to the bathroom. I can't deal with him yet.

Vivid images of him between my thighs flash behind my eyes, no matter how hard I try to blink them away. It's something I really need to get out of my head before seeing his face again. I can't deny it, he was mind-blowingly good at what he did to me. Even the hate fuck was marvelous.

But still. I fucking hate him.

Okay, I don't.

But I certainly should. He fucked me over, hurt me more than anyone else ever has. I'm not going to let him out of this. I didn't plan to fuck with him yesterday. It was a pure accident. My mind was all over the place, and like that, my decisions have never been very smart. But it worked to my benefit, somewhat. I wanted to hurt him, and I know I succeeded. Not only by telling him I had sex with Luke, that was a mind game to make him do the things I asked him to do, but he refused. Grow a backbone? Bitch, please.

I know he loved every second of fucking me. And the way he held me like I'm the most precious thing in the world afterward in the shower. Tiger loves me, just like he said.

My words cut deep, and even though I don't hate him right now, it still makes me feel better that he fucking knows how he hurt me.

It might be petty, but I don't care.

I take my time brushing my teeth and detangling my hair. Delaying on purpose, hoping that Tiger will get bored and find his way out of my apartment. After I've put on casual makeup and braided my hair on both sides of my head, I press my ear to the bathroom door.

No sounds.

I sneak out and tiptoe to the kitchen. Just to see him sitting on the counter, coffee mug beside him, and instantly his dark eyes land on me. Oh, fucking hell. Tiger takes another cup from the shelf and pours steaming coffee in it. "The last one got cold already."

"Hmph." I fold my arms across my chest, trying to ignore the fact that I'm not wearing any pants—just my yellow lace panties with an oversized T-shirt which, thank fuck, reaches below my ass.

He jumps off the counter, and walks to me with the coffee cup in his hand. My heart begins to palpitate at his closeness, and my skin tingles.

I want to hit my head against a wall for reacting to him this way.

My mind wants to be mad, but my body certainly doesn’t.

Tiger tilts his head to the side, biting the corner of his lip. "Can I make you breakfast?"

Holy shit. He never makes breakfast. Never.

I take the cup he offers, shaking my head. "I'm not hungry."

I watch him swipe his dark hair back, but a wild strand flows back to tickle his temple, and he decides to ignore it, stuffing his hands in his pockets. We end up staring at each other in silence.

His eyes are glued to mine, but I let mine drop to his bare chest. Sipping the coffee, I watch the faint lines going back and forth on his upper body. They're not visible enough to see from a distance, especially when the ink covers a lot of his skin and catches the attention, but they're easy to see from this close.

The scar around his neck is more visible, wider than the others.

I think I'm finally ready for this.

"Can I ask you something?"

Tiger's muscles tighten in front of my eyes like he senses what I'm about to ask. Of course, he knows. He can read me better than anyone.

"Go ahead," he answers, but his strained voice tells me that there's a big possibility that I'm not getting an answer.

"Who did that to you?" I trail my eyes to meet his gaze. The expression on his face is closed up, not letting me read him even the slightest.

He runs his tongue over his teeth, taking a deep breath, and exhales through his nose like an angry bull. Finally, he speaks. "Our father and his brothers, when he found out that he wasn't actually our father at all."

Jesus Christ. My eyes widen, and a low gasp escapes from my mouth, and I slap my hand over it. His family did it? How could they? Oh, my God. Oh, my—

"Stop that," he snaps at me, brows pulled into a tight line. "I told you 'cause you asked, but I don't want to see that look on your face."

"What—" I start, but Tiger cuts me off.

"Pity. I don't want it."

I drop my hand from my mouth and focus on looking normal while clearing my throat. Then I catch what he said. "Did you say ours?"

Tiger closes up again. His face doesn't give out anything. "Amelia's and mine."

"Amelia?" I ask, stunned. I've never heard the name before.

"My sister."

My eyes bulge again, even though I tried to be cool. "You have a sister?"

"Had. I really don't want to talk about this," he says and looks over to me, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

I gulp the coffee down in one take, suppressing my need to ask more questions. Even though I'm pissed at him, this is the topic I don't want to push him with. My heart is shattering because I can't even imagine what he’s gone through.

And lost a sister? Oh, my God.

I lift the empty cup in the air. "Thanks for the coffee." Then I walk around him, and after placing the cup in the dishwasher, I walk out of the kitchen. Tiger is now leaning against the wall, hands still in his pockets, wearing that unreadable face. I grab my red duffel bag on my way to the bedroom, and that makes him move. He follows me like a shadow, and that is the exact reason I need to do this. When I pick a couple of hoodies from my closet, he can't keep quiet.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing," I retort, taking a pair of jeans from the shelf next. "I'm taking a time-out."

"A what?"

After throwing a couple of undies into the bag with other clothes, I give him a look. "I need space." I jerk the zipper closed, and motion a hand between us. "We're too close. We need to let the dust settle, okay?"

Tiger's entire being looks like he's going to explode. His hands have rolled into fists, and his shoulders look like they're carved from stone. "What the fu—"

I shoot my index finger in the air, stopping him. "No. Now I want you to treat me like I'm a motherfucking princess and don't throw any shit at me. I have every right to be hurt, and you're not going to bark at me about my decisions. Get it?"

With a low growl, he rubs his face with both hands and then runs his fingers through his hair, crossing his fingers behind his head. My core tightens at the sight of him. Tiger is so fucking handsome that it should be illegal, and he knows exactly how gorgeous his body is. More so, he knows how it affects me.

Now his brown eyes are locked on mine, as I try my best not to look at the masterpiece on display.

"Okay," he sighs. "At least tell me where you’re going."

"Really wanna know?" I ask, knowing that he can figure it out, and wiggle my skinny jeans on. I can almost hear him gritting his teeth as he places his hands at his waist and drops his head down. Tiger is so fucking pissed that it's a miracle he hasn't exploded yet.

"How long?" he says, voice only slightly vibrating from his emotions.

I'm incredibly impressed by his self-restraint.

"I dunno. A couple of days tops." I take a hoodie from the shelf. "Hey, turn around. I wanna change in peace."

Now he lifts his head up, a slight smile on his face. "I've seen you naked, and I—"

"Don't test me, Tiger," I warn him, and to my surprise, he turns around without any further comments. I change my shirt and throw the bag on my shoulder, walking to the nightstand to grab my phone. I give Tiger a glance now that his eyes are following me. "I need to go. See you."

He doesn't say a word, but I didn't expect him to. I'm sure he'd have a lot of things to say if I hadn't told him to treat me like a princess.

At the door, I turn to look at him. "And hey, Tiger." He cocks an eyebrow, questioning. "I'm really sorry about your sister."