Page 3 of Lollipop

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.”