Your Girlfriend Calls Me Daddy-Chapter 81 - 82 | Two Scratches and a Bite Mark

He drove off, and Cheon and I stood alone in the parking lot. The gym loomed ahead, all glass and steel and way too much enthusiasm for this hour.

"I still think this is a terrible idea," Cheon said.

"Which part? The workout or the outfit?"

"Both."

I handed her the spare bag. "Get changed. I’ll meet you inside."

She opened the bag, looked inside, and her face went from pink to red. "This is what she left?"

"Something wrong?"

"It’s a sports bra and short shorts."

"Yeah. That’s what people work out in."

"This is barely clothing." She held up the shorts. "These are shorter than my uniform skirt."

"They’ll fit fine."

"That’s not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

She glared at me, clutching the bag to her chest. "The point is that I’m going to be half naked in a gym full of our classmates."

"You’ll look incredible."

"That’s not helping."

I leaned in close, my mouth near her ear. "You’ll look incredible, and everyone’s going to know you’re mine. That’s the part you’re really worried about, isn’t it?"

Her breath hitched. "I’m not worried about anything."

"Liar."

"I’m the class representative. People already talk about me constantly. This is just going to make it worse."

"Let them talk." I kissed her neck, just below her ear. "You signed the contract, Panda. You knew what this was."

She shivered but didn’t pull away. "I didn’t think it would be this public."

"We walked into class together yesterday. Mera had marks all over her neck. Everyone already knows."

"That was Mera. This is me."

"And?"

"And I’m supposed to be perfect. I’m supposed to have my life organized and under control. I don’t do things like this."

I pulled back to look at her properly. Her grey eyes were wide, not with fear exactly but something close to it. Vulnerability. The same expression she’d worn last night when she’d asked if I was her boyfriend.

"You do now," I said quietly. "You’re allowed to be messy, Hae-Won. The world won’t end if you’re not perfect for one morning."

She stared at me for a long moment, and I felt the drain pulse between us. Warm. Steady.

"Fine," she said finally. "But if anyone laughs—"

"They won’t."

"If they do—"

"I’ll handle it."

She nodded once, sharp and decisive, then marched toward the women’s locker room like she was heading into battle.

I watched her go, appreciating the view, then headed into the men’s side to change.

The locker room was mostly empty. A few guys from other classes, nobody I recognized. I stripped out of my street clothes and pulled on black compression shorts and a grey tank top that Vito’s assistant had apparently ordered along with everything else in my wardrobe.

Rich kid problems. Someone else bought my gym clothes.

I caught my reflection in the mirror and paused. White hair still damp from the shower. Mismatched eyes. The Angelo genetics doing their work, making me look like I belonged on a magazine cover instead of in a high school gym at six in the morning.

Scratches ran down my back from Cheon’s nails. A bite mark sat just above my collarbone from Mera two nights ago.

I looked exactly like what I was: a guy with too much going on and not enough sense to slow down.

My phone buzzed.

outside. where r u

Mera.

I texted back that I’d be out in a minute, shoved my stuff into a locker, and headed into the main gym.

The space was massive. Weight racks lined one wall. Cardio equipment filled the center. Training mats covered the far end where people were already stretching.

Mera stood near the entrance wearing her own version of gym clothes—black sports bra, matching shorts that showed off her red skin and the curve of her tail. Her yellow eyes found me immediately, and she grinned.

"Look who actually showed up."

"Don’t sound so surprised."

"You’ve skipped every single session since you got here."

"I’ve been busy."

"Yeah. I bet." She looked past me toward the women’s locker room. "Where’s Panda?"

"Changing."

"How’s she doing?"

"Embarrassed. Flustered. Pretending she’s not."

"So normal Cheon behavior."

"Pretty much."

Mera’s tail swished behind her, that tell she had when she was thinking something she wasn’t saying yet. "Did you make her scream?"

"Jesus, Mera."

"What? I want details."

"Yeah, she screamed."

"Good." Mera’s grin widened. "She needed it. Girl’s wound tighter than a fucking spring."

The locker room door opened, and Cheon emerged.

Holy shit.

Mera’s gym outfit fit Cheon like it was designed specifically to destroy my self-control. The black sports bra hugged her chest, and those tiny shorts sat low on her hips, showing off her legs and the flat plane of her stomach.

Her light blue hair was still down, falling loose around her shoulders instead of pulled back in her usual severe ponytail.

She looked nothing like the uptight class representative who color-coded her planner and lectured people about academy handbooks.

She looked like mine.

Cheon’s eyes found us, and her face went pink when she saw Mera.

"Oh god," she muttered, walking over like she wanted to disappear into the floor. "This is mortifying."

"You look hot," Mera said cheerfully.

Cheon’s blush deepened. "That’s not helpful."

"It’s true though." Mera looked her up and down, completely shameless. "Rome’s got good taste."

"I’m right here," I said.

"I know. I’m complimenting you."

Cheon crossed her arms over her chest, which only made the sports bra situation more noticeable. "Can we please just work out and not discuss this?"

"Sure." Mera’s tail wrapped around my wrist, tugging me toward the training mats. "Come on. Let’s see if you can actually keep up."

I followed, and Cheon fell into step beside me, her shoulder brushing mine. The drain between us pulsed warm, and I felt her Essentia running bright underneath her skin.

Other students were starting to filter in. Aurora and Nolan near the weights. Emma on a treadmill. A few people from Class 1-B I didn’t recognize.

All of them noticed when we walked past. All of them stared.

At Cheon specifically. At the way she looked in Mera’s borrowed clothes. At the way she walked beside me with her hair down and her usual armor completely gone.

"They’re staring," Cheon whispered.

"Let them."

"This is exactly what I was worried about."

"You’re fine." I touched her lower back, just a light pressure. "Breathe, Panda."

She did. One long inhale, one slow exhale.

Then we hit the mats, and the real work started.