Thick - Page 2

As if she knows I’m thinking of her, my phone rings.

“Hey Mom,” I answer.

“How’s it going, sweetheart?” I can hear a touch of annoyance in her voice and it’s clear she still isn’t happy with me about this.

I planned my move on the same day they were set to take off on their trip. They’re going on a year-long cruise around the world where they end up back in Florida where they plan to live. With my move the same day it’s physically impossible for them to be in both locations at the same time.

“Great.” I chirp, pretending not to see Paul watching me. “The movers are almost done and I can start unpacking.”

“That’s good. I wish we could have helped.” She sighs into the phone. She wishes she would have hovered. It would have been sweet but annoying.

“Mom, I’ve got this. You’ve already helped enough.”

I was a late-in-life surprise for my parents. They’d always planned to retire early, so I knew when I turned eighteen and graduated it was off to college or move to Florida with them.

I chose neither and instead moved to the city not far from our small town. Maybe I could go to college; it’s still an option. But living out in the middle of nowhere, I’d gotten a jumpstart on my passion and it took off when I’d only been fifteen. The Love Toy Company was surprised by my age when they signed me up but they still took a chance on me anyway.

At this point I’m riding the wave, but maybe I should look into college. I could go for something like business maybe? Right now I don’t want to think about that. I’m enjoying my first taste of being on my own. Even if I don’t look old enough to be doing it, I’m doing it anyway.

My parents are older and they should be out seeing the world. They’ve done right by me and I want them to enjoy this time. I don’t want them to be worrying about everything I’m doing. I might be clumsy, but I think I can take care of myself. I bounce back better than most and I can handle this.

“I know, but I want to see what your place looks like when it’s all done.”

I laugh because I’m sure she can picture it already. She helped me find this apartment and we packed up my childhood home together. Their stuff went into storage and mine was boxed and tagged for the movers, who came the day after they flew out.

“I’ll send lots of pictures.”

“I know, but don’t photoshop me into them!” She uses her mom tone on me and I laugh.

“But it will be like you’re here with me,” I say.

“You pick the worst pictures.” I laugh harder when I hear my dad in the background laughing with me. A second later I hear a loud horn.

“We’re setting sail, honey,” I hear my dad say to Mom.

“I’ll email them.” I know they won’t have the best service out at sea. Mom has told me this five million times since she realized I wasn’t actually going to move down to Florida and stay at the new place.

“You be careful,” she adds. “Don’t get too worked up.”

“I’m not.” It’s not a lie because I’m not worked up right now.

I’m sitting on my sofa bed not moving. Mom says I only get clumsy when I get worked up. What she really means is when I get excited, and I get excited easily. I can’t help it. My parents didn’t try and keep me in a cage when I was growing up, but living so far from everything, I didn’t get to see much unless we were traveling. Now there’s excitement at every turn here.

“I love you,” I hear Dad say.

“Love you both,” I tell them before ending the call.

When I look up I see Paul standing by the door writing on a clipboard.

“All done?” I ask as I stand up and make sure to walk carefully to the door so I don’t fall again. I take the clipboard and sign where he points. “Thanks,” I say as he leaves with his guys and I close my door.

I’m finally all alone in my new place and I turn around to take it all in. When I do, I catch sight of one of the movers’ hats sitting on top of a box. I grab it and open my door to call for Paul. I remember a second later I forgot my phone and I promised my mom I wouldn’t step outside my place without it. Quickly I turn to grab it and run right into my closed front door.

“Ouch!” I yelp when as I rub my head. “Of course,” I mumble to myself as I reach for the knob.

I pause when I hear something behind me and turn around to look to the door across from mine. Am I supposed to introduce myself to the neighbor, or are they supposed to introduce themselves to me? Maybe you wait until you run into each other?

Tags: Alexa Riley Erotic
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