“Mother what?” I stand up and get closer to her, trying to figure out every little thing I can about Jolie.
“That’s what I call my Aunt Lola. Well, not that name in particular, but she’s literally like every Disney movie villain. Ever since my mom passed, she thinks she’s lord of the manor and what she says goes. Never mind that she’s just a lazy slob and milking my father dry,” Jolie unloads. It’s all starting to click now.
“Makes sense. I’ll meet you at my bike around nine thirty. And, Jolie, as hot as fuck as the shorts and tank are, need you to wear clothes that cover you, sweetness.” I lick my lips, keeping my toothpick to the side the entire time, and when desire hits her eyes, I know that tonight will end with more than a ride on my bike.
Four
Jolie
“Jolie, did I ever tell you how much you look like your mother?” Clearly, Dad is deep into the whiskey bottle tonight. He’s harder to steer into his bedroom. We live in an area off of the Inn that’s our house. Maleficent has a room on the first floor, one that we could use for a paying guest, but my father and his bleeding heart.
“A time or ten. Let’s get you into the bedroom. I still have work to do.” I tell him a white lie.
“I’m sorry, Jolie. Your mother would be ashamed to see me like this.” He leans heavier into me.
“I think she’d be more upset that after years of not having her sister around for a reason, you thought it was a great idea to let her back in. I still, for the life of me, can’t figure that out.” I usually bite my tongue and don’t bring this up, but apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment.
“You need a woman around, Jo-Jo.” I sit him on his bed, breathing a sigh of relief that now he’ll fall asleep for the night. I guess he’s at least not a mean drunk, just an overly emotional one.
“Not her. If you’re good for the night, I’m going to shower and work on the books.” Another lie leaves my lips too easily. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and it’s not like I’m a teenager anymore. I’m twenty-one years old, living at home, afraid to leave out of fear I’ll lose not only my dad but the Inn, too.
“Maybe so. We’ll talk about this in the morning. Goodnight.” His head hits the pillow, and I know we won’t finish this conversation tomorrow.
“‘Night.” I kiss his forehead. Never in a million years did I think I’d be tucking my father in like a toddler, yet here I am.
It takes me another thirty minutes to clean up our side of the house. If I thought it would help, I’d throw away all of the liquor, but Dad would just go out and buy more. So, I just let him kill himself day by day. It hurts so bad to watch knowing there’s nothing I can do to help. There are times I’ll bawl my eyes out in the shower, the only place where I know it’s okay to let it all out. I go around, picking up the glasses, food from dinner that I put in the Crock-Pot before I went up to clean rooms, and then it’s off to take a quick shower, rebraid my hair, and find a suitable outfit to wear on a motorcycle while also looking cute at the same time. Since I’m used to wearing shorts and tank tops, I’m not so sure the jeans I have will work. Hell, I’ll be lucky if they even fit after not wearing them for over a year.
My mind goes back to the way Decker’s eyes never left my body or eyes when I was looking at him. It was like he was devouring me without a single touch. Now I’m going to be pressed up against him for whatever length of time this ride lasts, and I know for a fact I will be using my fingers to get myself off the minute I’m back in my bedroom for the night.
Instead of thinking everything over one hundred different ways, I take a quick shower, dry off, jump around in my jeans until they stretch out enough to fit over my thighs and butt. It seems with all the working and cleaning, my ass and thighs are only getting more muscular. I’ll have to remember to go jeans shopping soon, though, or this winter will be interesting. I find a shirt that’s semi-fitted and covers more of my arms than a tank top, and then throw on my pair of black Chucks. That’s as good as it’s going to get. I look at my phone, realizing it’s already ten minutes past nine thirty, and I really hope Decker didn’t give up on me. With that, I move as quietly I can until I make it outside, then I take off at a full sprint, only stopping when I see he hasn’t given up yet. Maybe, just maybe, luck is on my side.