Page 41 of Krampus Kruk
I step away from the door and walk farther into the kitchen so I can see who’s here as my step-dad opens it. I hear my own heartbeat as I see a man come into view.
Krampus.
Fucking Piotr fucking Kruk.
The puffed shoulders of his black coat dwarf Ed’s wilted frame. My heart starts to race when my stepdad turns back, looking confused.
I inch forward, and Mom shifts behind me, like she’s coming too. I hold out a hand to stop her.
“This is my mess,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.
As I approach the door, I clock the Christmas-themed bouquet in Piotr’s hands. Flowers? Really? Fucking flowers? I’m annoyed again, annoyed by this whole fucking day.
“Morgan,” my stepdad says with a concern I’ve never heard from him. It nearly startles me.
Since when is he protective?
“Ed,” I snap, “give me a minute.”
He stares at me for a beat then cautiously steps back into the living room. Now, I’m looking directly into the bright, arrogant blue eyes of a man I should no longer find attractive—but, damn it, I fucking do. His soft smile almost makes me forget why I’m angry.
“Do you not know how to read a clock? Dinner happens at five,” I say coldly, not able to think of anything else to say.
“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”
“I hate flowers.”
“They’re for the host,” he replies smoothly.
I loudly laugh. “You’re not serious.” I think back to our joke—him being my date to Christmas dinner.
“You invited me,” he says, cocking his head.
I blink hard, overwhelmed. “I uninvited you.”
“Semantics.”
My jaw drops. I wish I didn’t like him here. I cross my arms. “I didn’t give you the address.”
His expression barely shifts. “I have my ways. Plus, I needed to see you again.”
“You’refuckingcrazy,” I hiss, fighting the urge to glance back at the sure-to-be-eavesdropping audience. “I’m not introducing you to my family.”
He lowers his voice. “What’s worse, baby girl? The questions they ask when I leave … or me staying?”
Baby girl.
“I hate you,” I whisper, although I’m smiling.
“I’ll make up for it later,” he says, sex dripping in his tone.
I scoff. “Do you not understand the concept of a one-night stand?”
“I understand, but you’re more than a tight pussy.”
My cheeks flush. He’s not whispering anymore. My mom and stepdad definitely heard that.
I should tell him to go, slam the door in his face. However, that doesn’t feel right in my body. My heart has me wanting to jump into his arms and kiss him. I adjust the painting under my arm. My brain is on overdrive, considering what I should do next.
