Half Of My Heart | 18+

[2]

D I M I T R I

• • •

The sweet innocent bella — Anya Renée — looks absolutely shattered as I open the door and she collides with my body.

I instinctively reach to curl a hand around her leg, unfortunately to a spot where her skirt doesn't cover her. Standing at 5'8 Anya Renée has always pulled the sweet girl look girl well, with her innocently seductive outfits which comprise shorts skirts, and tank tops with fancy blazers, prim and proper blonde hair, hazel eyes deep, and full lips pouty, always with a pencil between them while she does the class work.

I have found myself staring at her more than once, imagining the end of the pencil to be something much bigger and thicker, wrapped around those swollen pink lips. Something belonging to the southern part of my body.

I push the thoughts away from my mind, reminding myself that this is my student and my son's girlfriend. Or should I say ex-girlfriend because my son is standing half-naked in an unbuttoned shirt and pants, watching the back of Anya's head like he is struggling between wanting to drag her to him or letting her go?

"Anya..." I rasp. "What happened?"

The girl blinks back her tears and I realize that I am still holding her bare leg. I reluctantly tear my fingers off her skin, my palm tingling as she pulls away.

She walks past me without answering my question and is out of the door. I force my gaze to my son's, already speculating what had gone wrong.

"What the fuck did you do now?" I growl at him.

Just then, a rush of footsteps comes down the stairs. Blake and I both look up. I recognized Amelia Miller from the cheerleading team striding down in one of my son's shirts.

What the fuck?

"You cheated on Anya!?" I boom at my son, causing him to flinch at the sound of my voice.

"Mr. Rossi...I can explain," Amelia tries to chirp in.

"No need." I snap my eyes at her, glaring hard. "Get the fuck back in clothes you came in and head out of my house."

The girl gulps, strutting away without another word, unlike my son who is still standing there with his head bowed down.

"You..." I stride to him, eating the distance between us so that I can tower over him even though we are almost the same height. "Explain."

He looks up, his mother's brown eyes staring back at me. My heart squeezes, parental sympathy replacing the rage for a second.

"I didn't mean to. It just happened," he murmurs, stalking off to drop himself on the couch, holding his head between his hands. "Fuck! I have to get her back."

I want to slam his head somewhere cold to knock some sense into him.

"This was the third time, Blake." I square my shoulders, crossing my arms over my chest. "You cheated on her the third time."

"She forgave me!"

"Because she is too innocent," I remark with a warning tone. "And don't raise your voice when you're talking to me."

He looks away, respecting me enough to not do that again. My son is everything to me but as he grows up, I am beginning to understand how much of his mother he is made of. He is unsteady just like her, always up to no good. Just like her.

His one-time fuck comes back downstairs, this time dressed in her cheerleading uniform. She has a bag slung over her shoulder and a flush on her cheeks.