“Ha.” He laughed softly, head tilted. He dropped the stack of mail on the table, walking forward. “That’s nice to know.” He studied my attire, smiling softly. “Cool dress.”

“Thanks.” I beamed inside, bursting with rays of sunlight—or maybe it was moonlight. I felt cool to have his compliment—like the moon—not hot and blazing like the sun. I fought hard to ward off my blush, looking towards the open window above Mrs. Black’s favorite red leather recliner.

“You two coming to Janet’s shindig tonight?” he asked.

I whipped my head. “Um… I’m not sure. We’re going to go to the mall. Izzy is going to help me pick out a dress for graduation day.” I gave an innocent shrug and press of my lips. “It’s right around the corner, after all.”

“Really? I believe Izzy has had hers picked out since winter.” He folded his arms across his broad chest, a crooked smile taking over his lips. I hadn’t realized before, but he only had on a black muscle tank. His muscles flexed as his arms crossed, the detailed ink making my heart spasm a little.

Fuck, Izzy’s dad was hot. With his goatee and hair styled the same ever since the day I met him. Classy and casual. Why couldn’t guys my age look like him?

“Well, I’ll let Janet know.” He walked past me, and I caught a whiff of his scent. There was a smidgen of cologne, but it’d most likely faded from a long day at work. His natural scent was inviting. Delicious. My body hummed inside, familiar with his smell. “She might be a little disappointed, though.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “If I find a dress in time, we’ll try to make it.”

Izzy trotted down the stairs with a small tote bag, greeting her dad as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders. “Hey, Dad.”

“Izzy Bear, heard you weren’t coming to your mom’s party tonight?”

“Oh…” She pretended to care, pouting her bottom lip as she pulled away. “I was going to, but Chloe has been asking me to help her buy a dress for weeks now.” That was the lie we agreed to use if our parents asked our whereabouts.

He looked at me briefly before focusing on her again. “Sure, kiddo.” He gave her a sarcastic, full-of-shit look. “Come on, now. You don’t have to lie to me. Just be safe and be sure to call me tonight. I won’t hound you unless I feel I have to.” He looked at each of us. “You’re smart girls. And I trust you around Chloe. That’s the only reason I’m letting you go out tonight.”

My lips spread when his eyes bounced from hers to mine. They sparked a little, the brown pools gentle and confident. Unable to conceal the grin and the blush that ran over my face, I dropped my head, pretending I didn’t notice the spark in his eye. Sometimes I wondered if Mr. Black was flirting with me or if he was just a really nice guy.

There were certain looks he gave me, looks that only boys that were into me provided. Like how he winked at me every time he saw me, and even when he stood only a few inches away, watching as I spoke to him and filled him in on the latest school gossip. He watched how my lips moved, and even noted how my eyes always rolled when I mentioned Riley. He wasn’t pretending to be interested in what I had to say. He actually responded and even gave me advice.

It was… strange. But, for some reason, I liked it. He was the only one that actually listened to me. Not even Izzy indulged in my concerns fully. Most times, she was too busy talking about herself or something she got into, and if she wasn’t, she’d be on her cellphone, texting or tweeting away while I quietly explained my reasons for being upset, happy, etcetera. She cared, of course, but she didn’t listen quite as well as Mr. Black.

Izzy kissed his cheek. “I’ll be safe, Dad. Don’t worry,” she promised. Then, she picked up her bag from the corner, gesturing for me to come on with a hurried swoop of her eyes. She was out the door in a second, and I followed after her, but before walking out, I took a glance over my shoulder. Mr. Black waved a hand, wordlessly saying, “See you later.”

It was hard ignoring the heat that slid through me as he sat on the arm of the sofa, arms folded again, brown eyes hot and smoldering. “See you later, Mr. Black.”

“Later, Chloe.” Chlo-ee. I shut the door, but trust me, the way he sang my name replayed in my head all day and all night long.

Even as Izzy got completely drunk and puffed on marijuana, I thought about him. I imagined him, and then I remembered that, ever since I was twelve, I had always admired him.

He kept himself in great shape. He was nice to me. Sweet. And it seemed when he was younger, he was a complete badass, but Mrs. Black whipped him into decent shape and made him sort of good. I knew there was some darkness in him, and that alone intrigued me.

When I was a little older, spending endless hours at Izzy’s and growing into my mature, girly ways, I wondered how he was in bed. I’m a little ashamed to admit that I heard him and Mrs. Black one night.

I’d slept over with Izzy, and it was nearing two in the morning. I could hear them when I went to use the bathroom. She sounded like she was in ultimate pleasure—like she never wanted it to end—and he groaned, gently banging the headboard against the wall.

I could vividly imagine him.

Eyes shut.

Body tense, ready to release.

I was sixteen. I was pathetic.

And crushing on my bestie’s dad.

Hard.

Around 1:45 AM, Izzy’s cellphone rang, buzzing on the nightstand. It was a constant ring. On and off. Maybe it was urgent. “Izzy,” I groaned. “Your phone.” She snored. When her phone stopped, mine decided to ring, and I picked up, answering groggily.

“Hello?”

“Chloe!” Mr. Black’s voice came through the line, frantic and on edge. I perked up, eyebrows stitched.

“Mr. Black?”

“I—fuck. I need—where is Izzy? Where are you?”

“We’re… at Frankie’s. Why? What’s going on?”

“Is she sleeping?” His voice sounded strained.

“Yes.”

“I need you to wake her up… please.”

“Mr. Black… what’s going on?”

“It’s Janet…” His voice broke. “I’m at the hospital and Janet… she—there was an accident.”

“An accident?” I gasped. “What do you mean? What happened?” I hopped off the sofa, rushing to where Izzy had passed out on the floor. She groaned.

Mr. Black continued. “On her way home from the bakery she stopped at some—some run down gas station. Got robbed and mauled by some low-life motherfuckers. I swear to God if they find them I’ll fucking kill them.”

“Is she alright?” I asked.

“She… tried to fight back. Broke her jaw. Broke some ribs, and…” He swallowed hard, and his voice was unclear. “Because she fought back, they stabbed her eight times. She would have bled to death if someone hadn’t found her, heard her cries for help.” He sniffled. My heart cracked.

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

“They don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

I shook Izzy harder, and she sat up, eyes broad and confused. “What the fuck, Chloe?”

“Izzy, I—we have to go.” I stuttered, keeping the phone glued to my ear.  “What hospital?” I asked into the phone. Mr. Black told me where, and as soon as I was dressed and helped Izzy back into her dress, I grabbed her keys and rushed down the stairs, meeting at the car.

Izzy groaned, calling after me. “I’m so lost,” she whined “I don’t get what’s going on. Why are we leaving in the middle of the night? Did Marco try to come onto you? I swear I’ll fucking kill him.”

I slammed the car door behind me, and when she was inside, I turned to face her, gripping her shoulder caps. “Izzy, I seriously need you to get out of your high and hung-over stupor and listen to me.”

She frowned, forehead creasing. “Sheesh. Okay…?”

“Your mom was… robbed and stabbed eight times on her way home tonight.”