Free The Tenant by Sotia Lazu

bagel, perched up on the kitchen table, feet propped up on a chair, when a yell shattered the silence, followed by some seriously creative curse words.
    She slowly chewed and swallowed her bite—mostly to avoid choking on her own laughter—placed the rest of her bagel by her coffee mug, and ran to the bathroom. “Derek? Is everything okay?” she asked, making sure to sound worried.
    “Like hell it is,” came the reply from the other side of the door. “I gave myself a third degree burn. Where you running the cold water just now?”
    Third degree burn? Ouch! Had she turned the wrong valve? “No! I was having breakfast. What happened?”
    “Cold water went poof. That’s what happened.” She heard him turn the faucet on and imagined him testing the temperature again. “Are you sure you’re not doing something?” he asked.
    “Yes, I’m sure. Are you all right?” Her concern was genuine this time. She’d meant to annoy him, not physically injure him.
    “Wouldn’t say that, no. I’m not blistering or anything, but I think it’ll take a while before I enjoy sex again.”
    The image of him stark naked the first time she saw him came to mind uninvited, only this time his cock was red and glowing. Like Rudolf’s nose. She bit her lips together, trying not to laugh. “Is it serious? Do you need to see a doctor?”
    “I’m not showing the family jewels to anyone, looking like this.” He sounded indignant, then resigned. “I guess some salve should do it.”
    “I have aloe vera in the medicine cabinet above the sink.”
    “Great! Now I’ll smell like a woman too, other than feeling like one.”
    This time she let out a chortle. “Derek, I doubt you’ll let anyone close enough to smell… it , if it’s as bad as you say.”
    He made a non-committal sound, but she thought she heard a hint of a chuckle.
    “There’s coffee and bagels when you get out,” she said.
    He was silent for a heartbeat or two. Finally he said, “Thanks.”
    Amanda returned to the kitchen feeling… bewildered would be the correct word. She’d just had her most civilized talk with Derek, and it had been over his dick. Which she’d burned. If the day started like that, it could only get weirder. She shook her head and downed the first sip of her coffee.
    Thick saltiness hit her tongue and the back of her throat instead of the sweet dark flavor she expected, and she spluttered the liquid out of her mouth.
    As if the assault to her taste buds wasn’t overwhelming enough, Derek chose that moment to enter the kitchen in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. He looked good. Really good. Not for Amanda, of course; she liked her men more muscular. If he weren’t such an ass though, she might try to fix him up with her best friend. He seemed to be Becca’s type—tall, handsome, and available.
    Except for the being an ass part.
    Derek looked at her then the cup in her hand, and finally the bowl marked ‘Sugar’ that stood on the countertop, by the coffee machine. “Forgot to tell you. Sorry.” He actually looked contrite. “I don’t do sugar, so I put the salt in there.”
    Amanda wanted to say she knew he’d done it on purpose—she knew her misery amused him—but one look at his ducked head, crowned with messy white-blond-tipped curls, made her reconsider. What was savory coffee when compared to mutilation by heat?
    “I’ll survive,” she said. “That’ll teach me not to cheat on Sweet’N Low. I got a box in my purse.”
    She stood, but he got to it first, grabbed it from the dining room chair where she’d left it and brought it over. “This it?”
    “Yeah, thanks. And how are you feeling?” His torso was a weird pink color, but there were no blisters. Because she was only checking out his perfectly defined pecs and abs to assess the damage she’d caused. Luckily, it seemed to be minimal. She could only hope the same for the hidden parts of his anatomy. Not that she cared about the wellbeing of the specific parts; she