Diamond
“Seven weeks to go,” I grumble under my breath as I jog down the stairs with the bag I packed with my clothes—and by “clothes,” I mean the few outfits I was able to salvage after Finn’s stunt last week.
My demonic housemate stayed true to his word and paid for the damage he caused, but I still have to go shopping and replace everything his fancy dry cleaner couldn’t save.
Fortunately for Finn’s genitals, my Radiohead T-shirt fully recovered. Bastard has no idea how close I came to dumping itching powder into his underwear drawer.
Barking travels through the first floor of the house when I reach the bottom of the stairs. Lexie comes running in my direction with a swinging tail. She’s been greeting me this way for five days straight.
I might’ve had the weirdest first week at a new job in history, but I’m still going to miss her running to me every morning.
“Good morning to you, too.” I chuckle, petting her behind the ears. “Who’s a good girl?”
As if on a quest to prove herself, Lexie sits and holds out her paw. I’ve been practicing tricks with her all week. It sure didn’t take her long to understand that shaking hands equals treats.
“Nice try.” I squint at her, but she doesn’t budge, ogling me with those big, adorable brown eyes.
I hate playing bad cop, but I’d rather Mr. Richards didn’t come home to find his dog has gained thirty pounds.
Stay strong, Dia.
Resist.
Resist.
Resi…
Res…
Re…
Run to the kitchen and give her a treat.
I’m back to my feet in an instant and maneuvering my way to the kitchen to give her a goodbye treat. Mr. Richards suggested that I take my weekends off for the rest of the summer. He said his son could hold down the fort for two days out of the week, and I deserved a break from Finn.
Fine, he didn’t say I deserved a break “from Finn,” but I can read between the lines.
He’s been checking in nonstop, asking me how things are going like he half-expects me to cry him a river about his awful son. Worst part is, even if I wanted to snitch, I can’t.
My silence is the only thing protecting me from Finn’s cruelty. He read me loud and clear when I insinuated that I’d tell Xavier about his betrayal.
Finn lay low for the rest of the week, staying out all night, then grunting in disgust whenever I walked into the room. He’s been avoiding me like the plague, but there haven’t been any more “ruin your life” schemes…
Yet.
I put on coffee and grab Lexie’s treats in the cabinet above the fridge.
“Last one. I’m serious,” I fake-scold, and Lexie devours the treat off the palm of my hand.
“A pet rock has more authority than you.”
I flip my head to see Silver Springs’ killjoy standing in the doorway. Finn is shirtless, wearing gray shorts, and balancing a basketball against his hip.
We make eye contact for a second too long, and I lower my gaze, focusing on his shredded six-pack and his large fingers wrapped around the basketball.
He has big hands.
Dia, stop.