“I feel like we’ve had versions of this conversation before, and I’m tired of it. You’re whatever I say you are to me.” I haven’t decided what that is yet, but it’s more than I imagined.
“Rory…”
“Yes.” I smile, playfully fluttering my lashes.
“What’s that look for?”
“Just buttering you up. I’m a nice, upstanding youngman, and you’re not going to be angry with me.”
He rolls his eyes, but I can tell he’s trying to bite back a grin. “You literally killed people tonight.”
“And you literally don’t care. What does that say about you?”
He puts the guitar away, then lies down beside me. “Shut up.”
“Oh, don’t like that topic?”
He surprises me by wrapping an arm around me. “When are we going to go do something fun?”
“Fucking me wasn’t fun?”
“You know what I mean.”
Yeah, I do. “Soon,” I reply, then reach over and turn out the light.
My mind doesn’t spin like it usually does, and before I know it, I’m asleep.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Shai
Idon’t knowhow I didn’t wake up when Rory came over last night because the second my bedroom door opens the next morning, I’m on alert. Rory and I are still naked in bed together, the blanket around me, his body on display.
“Hey, sweetheart!” Mom says, and I immediately tug the comforter over Rory’s dick so she can’t see it.
“Jesus, Mom. You can’t fucking knock?”
“Oh. I didn’t realize you had company,” she says, and while there’s a chance she doesn’t remember Rory coming over last night, it’s more likely that she does, and that the whole reason she’s in here right now is because she knows he’s with me. It’s not him specifically she wants attention from; she just likes to have attention from anyone, and she wants to be a part of everything. She’s always the loudest person at a party. She likes to have my attention too, but only when it suits her. If there’s a guy around, drugs to do, money to gamble, then I don’t matter, but when she’s feeling alone or neglected, she always comes to me.
“Well, I do,” I say.
Rory stirs beside me, cracking one eye open. “We’re sleeping, in case you didn’t notice,” he tells her.
“I was going to make breakfast.”
I can’t remember the last time my mom cooked breakfast for me. She’s not offering it for me now, though, she’s offering for Rory. I hate thinking about my own mom this way, but I’ve lived enough life with her to know exactly what’s going on here.
“We’re leaving soon,” he says.
We?
“Oh… Where are you going? When will you be back? Do you know anywhere I can get some coke?”
My fucking mom, ladies and gentlemen.
Rory cocks a brow at her. “He’s going home with me. I can maybe get you something later.”
Um…what the fuck. I don’t remember agreeing to go home with him. We’ll need to have a discussion about the way he makes decisions for me. And he’s absolutely not bringing her drugs.
