Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Lolly

I still have the knife held firmly in my hand. I’m not quite sure if I should put it down yet. It doesn’t help that he’s acting weird as shit.

“I wasn’t expecting you tonight. Dad said you would be coming tomorrow.”

“I’m a little early. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get here.”

That makes sense. “It’s alright. I’m sorry I, um,” I put the knife down but not far from me, “threatened you with a… knife.”

“It’s a perfect response to having a stranger in your house. I would honestly worry if you didn’t try to protect yourself.”

I give him a half smile. Bet my sister wouldn’t threaten a hot guy like him with a knife if she found him in the same vicinity as her. I’m not going to look into why his words make something in my belly turn all hot and molten, like his praise affects me in ways it shouldn’t.

“I’m not sure what condition the bunk house is in but it’s, um, out…”

“Actually your mom and dad said it would be alright to stay here. In the house.”

“With me?” It’s like they don’t care at all. Hurt and anger hit me hard as I fight to not let the emotions take over. If they did I would just sink to the floor and start crying and I might never stop if I start.

He’s rocking a frown on his face now, his eyebrows draw together and his beautiful blue eyes turn stormy. “You know what? I can stay out there or if it’s not great I can find somewhere in the city to spend the night or…”

“No.” I interrupt him. It’s not his fault. “It’s…you shouldn’t have to wake up super early just so you can work all day. The nearest town is an hour away.” Believe me, the drive is murder.

“I don’t mind.”

I do.

“Um, where did they tell you to sleep?”

“I think they said it was the first door on the right once you get up the stairs?”

No. They wouldn’t.

“First door on the right?” He nods and I turn to the counter and away from him so he doesn’t spot the tears in my eyes. I yell and take the dough in my hands and slam it down a few times like I want to take my sister's head. Or my mom. Or my dad. “You okay?” His voice is closer now.

I probably shouldn’t be wishing he was a serial killer so I could actually maim someone right now and have a damned good reason to. I am so trying to hang on to my manners but those… parents of mine are making it so hard.

“Yes. That’s just… let me call my parents.”

I waste no time putting a cover over my bread and setting it in the cold oven to let it do its thing. I wash my hands and go over scenario after scenario about what I can say when I find out they did what he says they did.

And I am not pleasantly surprised. They confirm they did tell this cutie he could sleep in the first room on the right… my fucking room.

“Where am I supposed to sleep, Mom?

” “There’s a very comfortable couch in the living room, dear. Oh, and the one in the den.”

“Why can’t he stay in Cammie’s room?”

“Because that’s her room. Besides you’re hardly ever there anyway. You decided to move out. If you want a bed of your own… go back to your apartment.”

“But… I’m here now.”

“I don’t mind taking the couch…”

“Nonsense, you’re a guest. Sleep on the couch in the den, dear.” And she hangs up before I can say another word.

I turn to him and we look at each other for a long time.

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them. I’m more than willing to take your sister’s room.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure I don’t want to make you sleep on a fuc… damned couch while I'm kicking back in your room.”

“Thank you.”

In the space of an hour, this man has seen me at my very worst and somehow, he still treats me better than my own damned parents. I show him the room and go across the hall to my own still trying to make sense out of my mom and dad. They don’t make sense to me. What parent would be alright leaving a stranger with their daughter while she sleeps? Or ask her to sleep where there are no doors to lock to keep a stranger out? It’s like they want me to get murdered so they don’t have to worry about me anymore. Or more to the point, they don’t have to put up with my bitching, which is a direct quote from my mother.

I settle down for the night finally and start a movie on my laptop. A knock at my door has me rolling my eyes. He probably doesn’t have any towels in there since Cammie usually brings 'special' towels with her when she comes to stay. I pull the door open before I realize I’m in a pair of short shorts and a flimsy tank.

“Shit!” I hurry over to a chair that my robe is thrown over but it’s not much better since it’s kind of slinky. Still, it’s something. I hurry back to the door noticing that he didn’t push his way in while I was gone. He stayed in the hall like a good boy. “Um, hey.”

“I don’t mean to bother you but, uh, can I use your bathroom?”

“My bathroom? Um, what is wrong with Cammie’s bathroom?”

“It’s…there’s…I would rather use your shower or maybe one downstairs.”

“Why?” This man didn’t appear… shy before now. So what the hell?

He rolls his lips around his teeth before answering me, “It’s… full.”

Full? Of crap? I can throw that shit somewhere else. I brush by him and make my way across the hall. The door is still open, so I go straight for the bathroom, which is closed. I open the door and stand looking around. It looks pretty clean - and empty - to me. I turn to look at him because he’s followed me inside. He points to the shower silently.

What the fuck? Is there a dead body in here? Because that is what Ander is acting like it is. I take a fist full of the curtain and jerk it back. And that is when I see it… right there on the shower wall. A big rubber dildo suctioned to the wall!

My eyes widen when I see it even though my brain is running so slow. My cheeks are engulfed in fire and I fumble with the curtain to pull it closed.

“You know what? You take my room and I’ll take Mom and Dad’s room downstairs. Come on! Let’s go!”

I take him by the hand, cheeks still redder than a fire engine, and pull him from the room. I try to take his duffle off the bed and almost fall forward. It's heavy. He takes the bag away from me immediately.

“What the hell do you have in there? Never mind! Just… let’s get the hell out of here.”

Out in the hallway, he stops us by placing his hand on my arm slowing me down. “Are you sure you want me to stay in your room, sweetheart?”

The nickname trips me up much more than the hand on me. He stops me from completely falling on my face and rights me. He just…he called me sweetheart. I realize he is waiting for a response, so I hastily nod for him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. God, I don’t know how I’m ever going to look Cammie in the eyes again after… that!” I wave my hands around.

“I can’t believe she would use something that small.”

All I can do is stare with wide eyes and an open mouth. That…thing in my sister’s shower was anything but small. What the hell does it mean that he thinks it’s ‘small’?