Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Aubrey

"Such a waste."

I looked over to find out what Sonja was complaining about now. Since her father had denied her idea of having a party over the weekend, there'd been a litany of things that were wrong.

"What now?"

"This!" She swept her hand the length of her bikini-clad body. "Me!"

"What are you talking about?"

She moved to the side of one of the chaise lounges scattered along the length of the pool. "It's a crime for me to look this hot and there not be a single guy around to admire it."

I pulled up short by one of the other chairs. "Are you… are you for real?"

"Well, it's the same for you," she answered, flicking her hand in my direction.

"Okay, first of all," I countered, moving to a chaise close to where she was now setting down her things, "I don't think we need to have guys gawking at us to make this not a waste, and second… I'm not hot."

Sonja rolled her eyes. "Ohmigawd, are you for real?"

"Yes, I'm for real! I'm not hot!"

"Oh, really?" Sonja replied, dropping onto the cushion of the chaise nearest her. "So, David fucked you for six months because you're totally fugly. Lyle goddamn near proposed to you after a year because you're absolutely hideous. And those fuckboys…"

"Now hold on," I countered, throwing my towel onto a chair. "What's that joke? Dudes will have sex with a sock!"

Sonja flopped back with a groan. "I give up with you."

"You're just heated 'cause you know I'm right."

"And you're in denial 'cause you know I'm right," she fired back.

For the next several minutes we arranged our towels, adjusted the chaise backs, and generally got ourselves settled in to spend some time sunbathing at her father's pool. It was beautiful out—clear, sunny sky, temp in the low eighties, a slight breeze coming up from the ocean less than five miles away. We both put on lotion, but Sonja did it cursorily while I made sure every square inch of exposed skin was covered. I'd be burned lobster-red in less than twenty minutes if I didn't, and I had no desire for that.

"So," Sonja began once we were both lying back in our chairs, "I've never really asked you this, but… I know the kind of guys you've dated and hooked up with, but what is it you really find attractive in a man? What is it you're really looking for?"

I raised my head, looking over at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, let's be honest," she replied, slipping on her sunglasses, "you haven't exactly had the best of luck with relationships."

"David and Lyle were both cute, and I liked them!"

"And both relationships ended up crashing and burning."

I leaned back, staring up into the azure sky above me. "I left David because he didn't want to be in a serious relationship. He just wanted to have fun, which to him was mostly sex on demand, on his terms, and when he wanted to get off. Not only that, but nine times out of ten he never reciprocated."

"Okay, that was a dick move, admittedly. And Lyle?"

"Lyle…" I blew out a deep sigh. "You ever been with a guy who's perfect? Like, all your friends look at him and say, ‘oh my god, you're so lucky to have a guy like that!'"

"Not really, because my standards are like super high, but… go on."

I bit back my immediate retort and continued. "Anyways, outward-facing Lyle checked off every box a person could ask for, but…"

"What?"

"One morning I woke up in bed with him and looked over and thought to myself ‘this isn't the man I'm going to sleep with every night for the rest of my life.' I have no idea where the thought came from, but from that morning on it was a downhill, self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Whoa. Was the sex that bad?"

"No!" I answered with a groan. "That wasn't it at all! He just… He just wasn't… right."

"Okay." Sonja nodded slowly. "I won't even ask about the fuckboys…"

I chuckled. "You like sex, I like sex. The fuckboys were sex. Regrettable sex for the most part, unfortunately, but they scratched that itch."

"I can't argue with that, but…" She glanced over. "You still haven't answered my question."

"What am I looking for?"

"Yes."

"I…" I searched the sky above me for a way to frame an answer that didn't make me look as creepy as I sometimes felt. "I dunno."

"Aubrey."

"Okay, I do know, but…" I made a vague gesture with my hand. "It's hard to describe."

"Humor me. Try."

"Okay, when I think of the kind of person I want to be with, the kind of man I see in my mind when I think about waking up in bed in the morning isn't a David or a Lyle or anyone like them. It's… it's…"

It's your father.

"Aubrey!"

I startled, wondering for a split second if I'd said it aloud. "Argh! Gimmie a minute! It's not easy to put in words!"

"Just tell me who the guy you see yourself in bed with is!"

"What I find really, really sexy is an older man." The words came out in a tumble.

Sonja lowered her sunglasses with a finger. "An older man."

"Yes. Someone… experienced. Strong. Self-assured. A man who has no problem taking charge and doesn't feel he has to ask my permission to do so. A guy who takes care of me as if it's natural, the easiest thing in the world to do."

Sonja laughed. "Oh my god! You've got a Daddy kink!"

I jerked up from my cushion. "I… I do not!"

"Oh, yes, you do." Sonja chortled. "Everything you just described one hundred percent confirms it."

"That is so not true," I replied hotly.

"It so is."

I thrust my hand toward her. "I just don't want a… boy, that's all. And just because that's what I don't want doesn't mean I have a Daddy kink."

"Except you do."

I slumped back down. "Jesus Christ you're being a complete bish right now."

"No"—she pointed—"I'm being truthful and not letting you hide what you are behind a wall of denial because you're kink-shaming yourself."

"I'm not kink-shaming!"

"Says the kink-shamer."

"God, I hate you sometimes," I grumbled.

"No, you don't. You love me because I keep you real."

For a minute, we let the conversation die, each of us lost in our own thoughts. There was no way I was ready to admit to Sonja she was right, even if she was. Maybe, when it came to men, she had no qualms confessing her fetishes, but it was an uncomfortable subject for me, even if she was my best friend. It was hard enough to do it to myself.

"Let me ask you a question." Sonja broke the quiet. "I think you once told me you weren't really close to your dad. What do you remember about him?"

I frowned, thinking back on something I hadn't in years. "He… He wasn't around a lot when he and my mom were still married. He worked in construction and spent a lot of time on job sites away from home. He'd come back for a few weeks, a few times for a couple of months, and then he'd be gone again. Honestly, I barely knew him."

Sonja nodded. "And what about when he was around? What was he like?"

"He was distant. He really didn't spend a lot of time with me, actually."

Which was true, but I could still picture him—a big man, strong, arms that as a child had seemed impossibly thick, corded with muscle, colorful with tattoos. The few times I could remember him holding me, it was as if I were this tiny thing captured by a giant, held against my will.

I looked over at Sonja. "It's funny, he never really acted like he wished I was the son he'd always wanted, like you hear some people talk about. He acted more like he just didn't have any interest in children at all. When we did interact, he talked to me more like an adult than a kid. Honestly, a lot of times I remember he was kinda crude, and almost borderline abusive."

"Abusive?" Sonja rose up on an elbow. "Like… physically?"

"I mean, no, not really, but… if I did something he didn't like, he'd spank me. With his belt. That was about as physical as he got, and it was enough. Otherwise, most of the time it was just… ignoring me. Or telling me to go get him something, and once I had he'd dismiss me like I was a servant. Anytime I tried doing something nice for him, he either told me I'd done it wrong, or just brushed it off like he couldn't be bothered to notice."

"Wow," she murmured, gazing at me for a long moment. "Okay, just so you know," she continued, "you totally have Daddy issues."

"That's… That's absolutely ridiculous." I tried to sound convinced, but even I didn't believe it. "Besides, what would you know? You have the perfect father who always treats you like a princess."

"Exactly."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Whatever. You act like you're getting your degree in Psych, not Chem."

Sonja lay back down. "I don't need to have a degree to recognize a Daddy kink when I see it."

"I swear," I grumbled, lying back myself, "I don't know why I talk to you."

Sonja's light laughter drifted up from her chaise, and I settled on mine, silence falling between us in a gentle lull. I replayed the conversation of the past few minutes over, drifting between the question ‘ what are you looking for?' to the memory of Mr. Delgado's fingers gently kneading my shoulders, the whisper of his voice in my ear.

‘ Good girl. '

Again, the intrusive thoughts caromed around inside my brain, all of them Sonja's fault. Which wasn't true, but it was easier to blame her than to accept that I did, in fact, have a Daddy kink, and the current center of attention of that was the father of my best friend.

God, you are a piece of work, Aubrey.

Despite my disordered thoughts, it was peaceful by the pool, relaxing, and as the quiet grew in length, between the warmth of the sun interspersed with the cool of the passing breeze, both of us were soothed into a state of indolent drowsiness.

Until someone cleared their throat.

We both shot up, heads swiveling to see who the hell had walked up on us. We both caught sight of him at the same moment, our heads snapping to a halt. A man stood under the house's eaves, his back to the wall, arms crossed. At first, I thought it might be Mr. Delgado, come home early, but a second went by, and I realized it wasn't. Mr. Delgado was tall and fit but lean like a fashion model. This man was the same height, but he was stockier, with broader shoulders and waist. Antonio Delgado had an almost classic European GQ look. This man looked like one of the college football players I'd tutored one semester. Mass built for power, to grab ahold of people and take them down. There was one thing both men shared, however; they were older, easily in their forties if not older.

"Jesus, you scared the hell out of me!" Sonja gasped, breaking the silence that had hung like a silken spider's web connecting all three of us.

The man pushed away from the wall, approaching slowly along the edge of the house in the shade of the patio soffit.

"My apologies, ladies. Wasn't my intention."

"Who are you?"

Sonja's tone was guarded, and when I glanced over, her body language matched. I'd been startled by the man's sudden appearance, too, but now I began to stiffen also, because if Sonja was nervous…

"I'm a friend of your father's." He glanced from left to right slowly. "I couldn't find anyone inside the house. Is he here?"

"No, he's… out right now."

The man might not recognize it, but I did. Sonja was doing her best not to sound nervous, to keep her voice cool and collected even if she wasn't.

"Was he expecting you?"

"I doubt it."

For a long second there were only the sounds of the gentle lapping of the pool and the far-off drone of a city so close that somehow now felt like it was a gajillion miles away.

"How… How did you get past the front gate?" Sonja asked quietly.

"I had the code."

"Oh." Sonja's body had been tensed before; now it went taut, her spine rigid as she sat on the edge of her chaise. "Well, he's gone for a while on business. If you give me your name, though, I'll let him know you came by."

"Is there anyone else here? Tomás? Someone else?"

"No," Sonja replied after a second.

Now his gaze came back to her, his eyes piercing. "So, you're here all alone."

"He'll be back soon," she answered, her voice almost a whisper.

"Oh, Sonja, I think we both know he won't." He stepped out from under the patio into the sunlight. I'd been right; he was a big man, and now he slipped his hand inside his sports jacket to the back of his waist to pull something out.

A gun.

Sonja gave a sharp cry as I sucked in a lungful of air as if I were being dragged under water. The man held the weapon down at his side, pointing it at neither of us. The sight of it, though, dark gray and menacing, sent a rush of fear pulsing through me that left me lightheaded. Neither of us moved as the man simply stood there, smiling.

"No, Sonja, we both know Daddy won't be back anytime soon. And that's good, because it'll give us all the time we need…"

My heart seized.

"To do what I came here to do."