My Stepmom's Boyfriend (Forbidden Fun)

The line goes quiet for a minute, and then my friend comes back.

“Sorry about that. Les just knocked over another vase. I don’t know why my parents keep putting vases in the hallway. You’d think with a house full of kids, they’d keep everything locked up, but no. They’re just insane.”

“He didn’t get hurt, did he?”

“No, he’s fine.”

I can hear Cammie’s three younger siblings screaming and running around in the background, and I wince. Poor Cam doesn’t have much private space in her apartment because the six of them are squeezed into a two-bedroom apartment not far from where I am now.

“Back to you,” my friend chirps. “What happened? This came out of nowhere.”

I sigh. “I don’t know what happened. Fiona just decided that she was done, and now I’m out on my ass.”

“Darn, Cait. I’m so sorry. What are you going to do? You can crash here, you know that. My parents love you.”

That’s exactly what I wanted Cammie to say, but it’s crazy because that house is far too full to add another person to the mix.

“Thanks, Cammie, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Come on, Cait,” my friend says persuasively. “At least come tonight. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? You need a roof over your head!”

“Thanks Cam,” I say with tears in my eyes. “I’m so grateful, but let me just try and figure some things out first.”

“Alright.” Then, there’s another horrific crash in the background. “Shoot. Cait, I’ve got to go. Mom and Dad aren’t home and the little terrors are driving me crazy.”

“Of course, of course, I get it. I’ll call you if I’m going to come stay.”

“Okay. I love you, Cait. You’ll get through this! Chin up!”

Then with a click, my friend is gone and I’m standing in the street, the phone hanging lifelessly from my hand. I appreciate Cammie’s generosity, but where would I sleep? In the bathtub? I know that her parents share one bedroom, and then Cammie sleeps with one of her siblings in the other bedroom. The remaining two kids share the sofa bed in the living room. Clearly, there’s no space for me.

But realistically, what are my options? I only have a few dollars, so a motel is out of the question. Is there a homeless shelter in Medina? Some place that opens its doors to wayward girls? I’ve never had to know the answer to that, but now, it might be my only hope.

I continue walking, and come upon my city’s proverbial tracks. On one side of the tracks is my neighborhood. Apartment buildings reign, although there are a few rickety old houses with beat-up, rusted old cars out front. But on the other side of the tracks, I know what I’ll find. This is the rich part of Medina, where folks eat caviar every night and retire to five-hundred thread-count sheets. I’ve never been before, but what the hell? There’s nothing to lose now.

I cross the tracks and begin to walk. Sure enough, the cracked sidewalks and decrepit houses fade away and large, gorgeous mansions take their place. The homes are even more magnificent than I thought possible. Quite a few have circular driveways with sculpted topiaries and water fountains that tinkle gently in the evening air. Clearly, I’m out of my usual environment.

But now, I haven’t eaten for a while and my entire body aches with exhaustion. Finding a slightly shaded spot, I sit down on the curb and bury my head in my hands. What a sight I must be, sobbing on the side of the road in the nice part of town. Hopefully no one calls the police on me. Then again, at least if I’m in jail I’ll have three square meals and somewhere to stay.

Suddenly, something cold and wet presses against my arm. I lift my head and find a large dog standing in front of me, wagging its tail while its tongue lolls out, dripping drool.

I jerk away, startled, but the dog isn’t deterred. It presses its nose against my arm again, begging me for attention. He’s cute. Tentatively, I scratch between its ears.

“Hey, buddy. Who do you belong to?”

He looks at me with friendly eyes and his tail wags even more furiously, like a metronome going berserk.

“Buster, Buster, what the …? Sorry, Miss. Buster doesn’t usually molest people.”

I grin.

“No, no, it’s fine. Buster wasn’t doing anything wrong.” That’s when the air evaporates from my chest because when I look up, the most attractive man I’ve ever seen is looking down at me. He’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous with hair like charcoal and blue eyes that remind me of the ocean. Right now, he just looks apologetic though.

I jump up and brush off my clothes.

“I’m so sorry. I was just…”

The man stands back for a moment, shooting me a puzzled look. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”