Page 230 of Daddy's Pride
He scoffed. “Then how come we pay you the rentmoney?”
I mean, technically, he hadn’t paid this month, but there was no more point saying that than there was explaining, again, the answer to his question. Not because it was a secret or anything, but just because none of them really cared about the details.
None of them had to care. Unlike me.
When my parents had found out my “full ride” scholarship covered tuition but not housing, I’d been worried they’d make me stay in-state for college and keep living at home.
Instead, they decided they’d buy a whole freaking house for me to live in out here.
I was surprised at first, since they were all about me earning my own way through life, not getting a free ride. But then I realized that it definitely wasn’t.
The house is an investment property for their retirement, which they said “made more sense than pouring money down the drain” by paying for me to live in the dorms.
And what better way to make good on that investment than to rent out all the bedrooms to other students, right?
Except instead of just, you know, letting me live here along with everyone else while I focused on school, they’d also decided that they didn’t need the extra expense of hiring a property management company to handle things like collecting rent and fixing the hot water heater. Not when it would be “good for me” to get some “real-life experience” by being responsible for all of that myself.
All by myself.
My dad in particular has always believed in the “sink or swim” philosophy of parenting, so they left it up to me to figure out things like how to come up with a house maintenance schedule, how to make a budget to handle all that maintenance—plus, of course, the taxes and regular house bills and stuff—and what to do when those two things didn’t exactly match up thanks to never getting the rent on time.
But even though all that was on me, it’s still “their house, their rules.” And no pets was one rule they emphasized big-time, as if they thought I’d run out and get myself the dog I’d always wanted the minute I was out on my own.
Which, to be fair, I totally would have if the idea of taking on one more responsibility didn’t make me want to shrivel up and die right now.
“Um,” I said, trying to shove my constant feelings of being overwhelmed back down where I could ignore them for a little longer, since all three of my roommates were staring at me expectantly. “I, uh, well, you know my parents put the house account in my name. That’s why you pay the rent to me.”
And then I bit my tongue, literally bit it, to keep from reminding them that it was way past due for this month already, and I had house expenses to cover, so they really, really needed to hurry up and pay it.
“Okay, yeah, that was rhetorical, bruh,” Jacob said, waving my answer aside. “But the dog thing? Genius, right? You’ve gotta see that.”
“I mean, sure?” I said, feeling like I might be sick. “But we still can’t?”
The uptick in my voice instantly made me think of Gay Daddy, and how he’d teased me about making things come out like questions whenever I got nervous. Although to be fair, an embarrassing number of things had made me think of Gay Daddy ever since our two text convos.
Unfortunately, Ryan must have been able to tell I wasn’t saying no with confidence, because he grinned at me, waggling his eyebrows. “We can’t, huh? You sure about that? Because it’s not like your parents have to know.”
“I’m sure,” I said, shaking my head quickly. “I can’t lie to them.”
“Aw, sure you can, O! You just need a little practice,” Tyler said, squeezing my shoulders in what I guessed was supposed to be encouragement.
“No, I really can’t.”
All three of them gave me disappointed looks, making my stomach clench up so tight with nerves that I tasted bile in the back of my throat.
I swallowed fast, rubbing my hands up and down my thighs to get the clammy sweat off as I gave them a weak smile. “Um, sorry, guys.”
“Well, just think about it,” Jacob mumbled after a minute, giving me one last wounded look. “House mascot that’s also a chick magnet? It would be sick.”
No, I was definitely going to be sick.
And it’s not like I hadn’t thought about it—I’d wanted a dog since forever—but I kind of wondered if they’d thought about it. At least, about anything beyond how many girls it might attract.
Even if my parents hadn’t had the no-pets rule in place, a dog was a commitment, and it really didn’t feel like any of my roommates were considering what it would take to properly train it, or walk it regularly, or the cost of feeding it, or the shots it would need or investing in pet insurance or how to manage regular check-ups at the vet when none of us had a car.
“Pizza?” Jacob said, thankfully dropping it.
“Hell yeah,” Tyler agreed, bouncing to his feet. “Let’s split an Uber and go out to the new artisan place.”