Slamming Demon (Pounding Hearts 2)

my daughter, Brett.”

“Of course, sir.”

I turned towards the door to leave but turned back around at the last second. “Sir, may I take her out next weekend?”

He just stood there, staring me down. I thought for sure he might tell me to fuck off but then he smiled a little and said, “Yeah, I think that will be fine.”

As I heard the door shut behind me, I took a leap off the stairs leading up to their front door and punched the air. She fucking liked me. Mandy liked me. Fuck yeah.

Chapter Six

Mandy

Oh god, what the fuck did I do?

I groaned and it took way too much effort to open my eyes. As soon as I did though I immediately slammed them shut against the bright sunshine.

“Good morning, Amanda,” my mother said coldly from near my window. “I hope you enjoyed yourself last night.”

All I could do was groan in response.

“Your father is expecting you for breakfast.”

My stomach lurched a bit at the thought of food. I didn’t want to but I could smell the bacon.

“I left some water and Advil for you on your nightstand. We expect you downstairs in five.”

I listened to my mom’s heels click out of my room. She slammed the door behind her and the loud bang cut like a knife through my head.

My parents were pretty cool about me going out and having fun, but whatever I did last night must have pissed them off.

Ugh, I tried to sit up. It felt like I gained two-hundred pounds overnight. Fumbling for the glass of water, I threw back the Advil, winced as my brain screamed out against the sudden movement, then gulped down the entire glass of water. I knew I was dehydrated and that’s why I felt so shitty. Grace and I figured out last year that if we drank a glass of water after a night of drinking before we fell asleep we usually woke up not feeling so shitty.

I guess I didn’t get around to drinking that glass.

I looked down at myself. At least I was still dressed. I lifted my skirt and yep, still had my panties on. But fuck if I could remember anything after dancing on the table. How did I get home? Brett? Oh fuck, Brett… I still couldn’t remember what happened, but I had a sinking feeling that I did something embarrassing.

What did I do? I searched for my phone. It wasn’t on my nightstand. I ended up finding the thing tucked beneath the covers at the foot of my bed.

I shot off a quick text to Grace.

Me: What happened last night????

I waited, hoping she’d answer. Hoping I’d get some clue of what my parents were so upset about, but no response was forthcoming. Dragging myself to my bathroom, I brushed my teeth and wiped the mascara off my cheeks. Once I was mostly presentable, I dragged my butt downstairs.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” my father said from the table.

I felt like a freaking zombie as I groaned and nodded my head back at him. I managed to get my butt to the chair across from him and sat down.

“How are you feeling?” he asked and I swear there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He knew damn well how I was feeling.

I moaned at him and rubbed my temples. “I feel like crap.”

“Well, can’t say I’m surprised,” he said and looked back down to his paper. He was old-school, he still liked to read his news in print. My dad scooped up a forkful of eggs and took his time swallowing them down before going on. “I’m glad you had that nice boy with you. Do you know how you got home?”

“Brett?” I asked, so not sure but hoping it was him.

My father looked back up at me and slowly nodded his head. “Yes, Brett brought you home. In fact, he had to carry you in.”