Reasonable Doubt: Volume 2 (Reasonable Doubt 2)

“Let’s!” I snatched my hand away. “Let’s discuss how I’m twenty f**king two and I’m a junior in college when I should already be a graduate! Shall we? Can you explain why that is?”

My father’s face reddened and he motioned for me to sit down, but I stood my ground.

My mother clutched her pearls. “Aubrey...We did what was best at the time, and even though switching school systems twice in two years was unfortunate, it made you who you are today. Now, the campaign won’t start until—”

“I don’t care when the hell it starts. I’m not going on a pointless campaign trail, and I’m not taking any of my classes online because guess what?” I could feel my blood boiling. “You can’t learn f**king ballet online!”

The restaurant was suddenly silent.

“You two are beyond selfish and you don’t even know it.” I shook my head. “I’m voting for the other guy.” I stormed off amidst gasps and whispers from the other tables—slightly content that my parents’ picture perfect family had been publicly scratched a bit.

“Your number, Miss?” The valet said to me as I stepped outside.

“My what?”

“Your number?” He tilted his head to the side. “For your car?”

Shit... I sighed and looked over my shoulder.

Patrons were pointing in my direction and I couldn’t bear to go back in there just because I didn’t have a ride home.

I considered calling a cab, but I knew that was pointless. It would take forever to get here, and I could probably walk back to my apartment faster than they would arrive.

There was a bus stop a mile or so down, but I only had a credit card. I doubted Andrew would come get me, but I decided to give it a try.

Subject: A Ride.

I really need a favor...

—Aubrey

Subject: Re: A Ride

Wanting to take a ride on my c**k in the middle of the day shouldn’t be considered a “favor” at this point.

—Andrew

Subject: Re: Re: A Ride

I’m not talking about your dick. I’m talking about your car...Would you be able to pick me up right now? I was at a dinner with my parents but it didn’t end well...and I don’t have my car.

If you can’t, I’ll understand.

—Aubrey

Subject: Re: Re: Re: A Ride

Where are you?

—Andrew

Half an hour later, he pulled into the country club’s driveway.

I slipped into his car before he could even park—not looking back at the snooty members who were probably whispering and wondering about what had happened between me and my parents.

“I’m taking you home, right?” he asked as he pulled off.

“No...”