𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣
⊱ ─────────── ⊰

"No, Mary, everything's fine. Yes, I swear." I tell my ex's mother. She's been going on about me getting back with Chris, but it's been more than a month now, if it was going to happen, it would've.

"I hate that I haven't heard from you because of the split." She whines in my ear.

I stand up and rub my back, it's aching from being hunched over, pouring food into the dog bowls.

Duke and Stevie thank me with joyous barks and tag wails as they dig in.

"How's he holding up?" Mary exhales.

"From what I can see, he's fine, Mary; why don't you ask him?" My tone comes off more annoyed now because I am.

It's not that I don't love her anymore, because I do, but she's been a pain ever since the breakup. It's August now, too much time has passed. If I'm somewhat over it, she should be too.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I hear something small clicking against my bedroom window.

With my eyebrows furrowed over squinted eyes to see better, I try to make out a figure in the dark.

I hardly see anything, just trees and the bushes.

Hm.

"—Morgan, are you listening, honey?" Asks Mary, sounding needy.

I dial back in, trying to be there for her. She's having a hard time, too, divorcing Carter.

I tell her that I'm still here and proceed to ask about how she'll think they'll be able to run the restaurants and bed-and-breakfast.

"A-huh..." I mumble, loosely listening to Mary as I fold the clothes occupying my bed.

BANG!

A sudden smack against that same window makes me jump out of my skin and scream.

Ben's face appears and he stands there, grinning, reminiscent of Billy Loomis from the movie 'Scream.'

"Morgan, sweetie, are you okay?!" Mary stresses her concern.
Knowing her, I can picture her on the edge of her seat, probably ready to call Chris to check on me; if not, order a plane ticket herself.

Hand on my beating heart, I bring myself down  and try telling her that I'm alright.

"I, um, dropped something," I make up, running over to the window to open it.

Ben contorts his body to fit and then jumps to the floor.

"Shhh!" I warn him, pointing to the phone that still has someone else on the other end, listening.

"Who's there, Chris?" His mother hopes.

I feel bad when I hear the desperate tone of her voice.

Thinking nothing of it, because I just want to shut her up, I lie and say that it is Chris.

"Oh, good!" Her voice rings with glee. "Tell him I said 'hi!'"

"Oh, he heard you." I pretend, watching Ben wander around my bedroom.

"Hi, Mom!" Ben shouts, waving.

I throw a pillow at his back and he flails his arms, looking at me like he didn't know what else to do.

I turn my back to him so I can end the call with Mary, finally.

"I'm happy you two are working things out." She says, sounding like she's about to cry.

"I have to go, Mar'." I hesitate to say anything else to avoid more lying.

"Alright," she accepts, "Have a good night, I love you both."

"We love you, too... Bye."

I let her hang up first and once she does, I sit on the edge my bed and sigh.

"I think I make a pretty good Chris." Ben jokes, posing as my ex before me.

I lift my head only a little and shake it at him to disagree.

"Was that your Mother on the phone? What'd you say her name was, Chelsea?" He talks fast as he picks up one of my bras on top of the pile of laundry.

"Oh?" His eyebrow raises suggestively, prompting me to snatch the bra from him.

"That was my mother-in-law, actually."

"You mean ex mother-in-law?" Ben corrects me, walking around my bed.

"Yeah." I whisper, looking down at my feet.

"What are you doing here?" I ask Ben, seeing he's just being nosy.

He looks at some photos I have up of Chris and I in frames and shows them to me with a smirk before putting them down and moving on.

"A better question is: why do you still live with this guy? Honestly, if you need a place to stay, I have more than enough room."

"This is my home, it was built for me, and I like it here." I ramble, shrugging my shoulders.

Ben looks at me, unamused. "Are you still fucking this guy?"

"What?" I laugh at his vulgarity.

He chuckles but asks again. "Are you still banging him, yes or no? I'm just wondering."

Ben hops on my bed and makes himself comfortable despite the heap of clean clothes at the foot of it. 

I blink my eyelids rapidly, trying to fathom his audacity.

"Ben, what do you want? You never show up unexpected."

"I've never came inside before."

"For good reason," I remind him, folding my arms over my chest because that's where Ben's eyes keep falling.

He bites his lip for a moment and then stares past my body.

"Where is he, anyway? Probably working, huh?"

I hunch my shoulders before looking at the clock and seeing this is too late for Chris to be working.

I wonder where he is, I ponder in my head.

"Well, I'm not leaving until you watch One Piece."

"Isn't that Anime?"

"It is, and you'll love it." He snatches the remote from my drawer and powers on the smart TV.

I roll my eyes back, and cozy up to him in bed.

"I'm just not into it." I complain.

Ben looks down at me and meets my gaze.

"I'm into you, though." He grins, holding my chin up before I can turn my head away.

He slowly goes in for a kiss. I watch his eyes come to a close, and lips pucker.

Just do it, I tell myself in my head. It's just a kiss.

No, I can't. What if— Oh, fuck it.

I lean in, just as slowly, but we hit foreheads.

I laugh it off, thinking the moment was ruined, but Ben grabs my face and pulls me back in.

His lips brush mine, his breath washing over my face.

"I want you so bad." He whispers against my mouth.

I look down at his lap and gulp, unsure of how to respond to his erection.

"You're the girl of my dreams," he flatters me, his fingers getting lost in my hair.

"I would let you do anything to me, you hear me?" He chuckles and starts to kiss down my neck.

Oh my gosh, my weakness.

I constrict my legs when I feel Ben's hands trying to get between them, and seal my lips.

"I-" I want to stop him but can't. He's found the spot and I've fallen victim.

"Shit!" I curse at myself for being so weak.

"Oh?" He growls. "You like that, is that your spot?"

I nod my head, keeping my eyes closed so I don't have to look at him.

Ben chuckles and then sucks my neck, just under my chin and a pinch to the right.

My body— and primal instinct— takes over. It's like my thoughts shut up and I only react to what's happening to me.

I lie flat and spread my legs, welcoming Ben between them.

He puts his head on my chest as he carefully fondles my breast.

"They're so perfect," he whispers. "Can I see?"

I nod my head, but don't move, giving him the chance to undress me himself.

Ben's eyes grow with wonder as he kneels over my body.

He gulps, taking his time to grab my shirt and remove it.

Well, he's moved too slow.

I hear the alarm system sound and the door opens and closes.

"MORGAN?" Chris's loud, husky voice calls for me.

Ben looks like he's just seen a ghost. His body freezes, eyes darting about, probably locating the nearest exit.

"Fuck, he's gonna kill me, he's gonna kill me, he's gonna kill me." Ben freaks out, trying to crouch down and hide behind the bed.

"Don't hide," I scold him, "get out!"

"No," he stands firmly with a newfound boldness. "Why do you have to sneak around, I thought you were single?"

"I am." I whisper, trying to push his body to the window from which he came.

"Then tell him about us."

"Us?" I tilt my head and wonder what he means by that.

"Or I will." Ben proclaims, puffing his chest.

I'm impressed.

I stop forcing him through the window and wonder what he'll do next.

"Morgan?" Chris sounds closer and that scares Ben right out of my room.

He clumsily falls into a bush and then runs away.

So much for being impressed. Ick.

I put the window down and casually run back to the bed so I can act natural and resume folding my clothes.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in!" I allow once I've caught my breath.

Chris enters, his frame taking up the doorway, hardly letting the hallway light in.

"Hey." He says, picking the skin on his palms.

"Hey." I return with a small smile.

"Just getting off?" I ask as I place a neatly folded t-shirt on top of the others.

"Yeah," he answers, walking further inside. "How was your day?"

I shrug. "Alright. Uneventful. You?"

He chuckles and mimics my shrug. "Alright. Uneventful."

I softly laugh at his copying me.

Chris picks up a t-shirt of mine and looks at me, intrigued.

"You stole this from me." He accuses.

I playfully act offended, jaw on the floor. "No I didn't!"

"You did. This is the shirt Mom made for my thousand point celebration game in college."

"Okay, you caught me." I give in, rolling my eyes back.

Chris laughs, throwing it back down.
"It's probably too small for me anyway." He says, standing back with folded arms.

It isn't until I heard him say that that I noticed he has gotten bigger.

"You've been working out more?" I inquire.

"Well, you know." He jokes, flexing his arms.

"You look good." I quickly regret my compliment.

"So do you." Chris says easily. "Pilates?"

"Yeah, well, you know." I tease.

I can't help but stare, his green eyes are locked on my face. He's always been so good at maintaining contact, but as hot as he is, it can be intimidating still.

Chris nods, subtly laughing at my rambling.

"Did you, um, want something, or?" My voice trails off.

I'm staring at his lips. Oh God, and he just wet them. Fuck, he's so sexy. He knows it, too, knows I'm staring and knows I think he's sexy.

"No," he rasps, "I mean, I brought home Pizza and Pasta. I know how much you love it, and I was craving it."

"What'd you get, pizza or pasta?" I tease.

Chris smiles wide, walking backwards out of the room. "Come find out."

Duke and Stevie greet me, circling my body as I try to walk through the kitchen.

"Hi, babies." I talk, and pet them.

"Lydia asked me earlier if you want to have another play date this weekend." Chris tells me.

I twist my mouth in thought.

"Are you going to be here?"

He shakes his head no.

I roll my eyes. "Then, no, thank you."

He laughs out loud with pizza in his mouth. "You're just never gonna like her, huh?"

"It's not that," I claim, "I just rather you be here."

"That's cute." He teases, pinching my cheeks.

"Shut up." I giggle, putting a slice of veggie pizza on my plate.

"I'm also still mad she took Piper from us." I admit.

Chris slows his chewing to talk. "You did offer."

"Because her dog died! I was trying to be nice, I didn't think she'd say 'yes.'"

"Well, we did say we weren't keeping a third dog, Morgan."

"Blah blah blah." I mock Chris, earning a playful head push.

Silence falls and while it's not awkward, I turn on the tv near the kitchen, instead of striking up another conversation.

"I'm turning on the news," I make known.

"Since when did you watch the news?" Asks Chris, holding up the wall behind me.

I shiver from him being so close to me and try to contain myself but hardly can, that scent hits my nose and makes my knees buckle.

I swallow hard before replying, "Since I wanted to know what's going on in the world."

"Isn't that what you use TikTok for?" He gives me a hard time. I elbow him in the stomach for it.

"—Thank you, Adam. I am on the scene at a local country club where a waitress has just been found dead. Hope Bishop was a graduate student who spent her summers here as a Cart attendant. Employees say she didn't have any enemies and they don't know who could've possibly done this. Police are labeling this some sort of freak accident, we advise you to watch this next clip with caution." The news anchor reports.

After such an interesting story, I kept my eyes on the screen, wanting to see a picture of Hope. I quickly look away, though, at the showing of her dead body on the golf course.

"Oh... my..." I can't even spit out another word, I'm so disgusted.

I bury my face into Chris's chest.

"We've just gotten word that the cart was compromised and something caused a leak. That, combined with the alcohol on the cart caused an explosion. Bishop apparently smelled something and checked the battery at the time of the explosion causing the fatal injuries you've just seen on screen. The accident was captured on surveillance video— the only way, other than teeth— that the body was able to be identified. The prestigious country club will be closed for business over the weekend. Back to you, Adam."

Chris comforts me by rubbing my back.

I should've known nothing good was going to come from me turning on the news, this is exactly why I don't.

His phone rings and he steps back, excusing himself, to answer it.

"Hello, who's this?" I listen to him talk.

"It's Harper, from the golf course." A woman's voice says.

I look up at Chris as his face falls to a more concerned expression.

"Harper, are you okay? I just saw the news—" he paces out of the living room and walks through the sliding glass door to continue his conversation outside.

Who the hell is Harper?

✕

I've just closed the kitchen, dishes washed and put away, and lights turned down.

The house is quiet except for Duke and Stevie whimpering for me to let them outside.

I've waited for a half an hour being that Chris was on the phone all this time, but I don't want to deprive them.

After Duke and Stevie, I step onto the patio.

Chris is sitting under the stars, his head in his hands.

"Hey." I talk quietly, standing over his body.

"Hey." He replies.

"Did you know the girl - Hope?" I wonder aloud.

Chris shakes his head. "I knew of her, met her once at the course."

I nod my head. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asks.

"You seem pretty upset about this."

He shakes his head. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Chris clenches his jaw then sits back against the lawn chair and lets out a deep breath.

"I knew her friend."

"Oh."

"She, uh, she doesn't think that was an accident."

I look at Chris, confused.

"Why not?"

He shakes his head, looking out into the distance.
"I don't either."

"What's going on, Chris? How do you know her?"

He finally looks at me. "I don't want you around Tate, alright?"

My eyes roll back. "Chris, what does he have to do with—"

"I'm not asking you, Morgan." Chris puts his foot down.

Looking me dead in my eyes, I can see how serious he is. So, I oblige.

"What if he talks to me?"

"Walk away, call me, scream for help. Anything. I don't trust him, and I need you to be safe."

"Chris, is this another Beck or Malcolm thing?"

He tears his eyes away from me and sighs heavily. "I don't know," he falters. "I hope not."