by Celeste, B.
The more I think about it, the angrier I get. But anger won’t get me anywhere either, so I tell myself to calm down and sip my juice. I still have one more day before facing the wench, which means one more day to formulate a backup plan. I quickly learn that night before bed that I don’t have one.
Jenna left in the early hours of the morning after falling asleep for a few hours on the couch watching some horrible reality dating show. I stayed up when one became two and two became three, feeling prickles of anxiety when I saw snow sticking to the roads and knowing Easton hadn’t gotten home. It’d rained earlier in the day and froze over when the temperatures dropped, leaving black ice everywhere.
When seven a.m. rolls around and Ainsley has a plate full of eggs in front of her, the sound of keys rattling outside has all the worry rippling through my body draining in a heartbeat. As soon as the door closes behind my roommate, I blow out a tiny breath and finish buttering Ains’s toast and putting it beside her plate.
East walks into the kitchen, probably hearing the commotion, and looks at me with tired eyes and messy hair. Bedhead. He has bedhead but wasn’t sleeping here.
Swallowing past the stupid lump in my throat, I offer him a small wave and turn back to the stove to prepare myself eggs. “I’m making breakfast if you want some,” I say in my best even voice, telling myself not to wonder where he was all night.
It’s none of my business.
“I’m good.”
He’s good. I nod with my back to him, not asking or offering anything else. No drink, no inquiry if his night was good. Something tells me it was, and I don’t need to know why, how, or because of whom. I just scramble another two eggs, put two more slices of toast into the toaster, and busy myself with the sizzle of the hot skillet.
He turns after a few moments, greeting Ainsley before making his way upstairs. I let my shoulders droop but refuse to let disappoint linger for long. We had no expectations when we started sleeping together, so I couldn’t get angry at him for spending the night at another woman’s house. It’s a waste of time to be bitter.
Long after Ainsley and I are finished eating and the kitchen it cleared, East comes back down in a pair of his signature black sweatpants and a black tee that hugs his body. His hair is wet, his eyes are brighter, and he walks past where Ainsley and I sit on the floor playing to plop down in the chair.
“How was the birthday party?” he asks after a while of silence.
“Good.”
“Cool.”
Good. Cool. Awesome. “Yep.”
My eyes cast upward when I feel him staring and I wish I hadn’t looked. He’s watching me carefully, his eyes slightly narrowed. It doesn’t last long thankfully. We break the contact, his eyes going to the TV where a cartoon plays, and mine to the doll clothes scattered in front of me as we change all of Ainsley’s Barbie’s wardrobes for what I presume is a fashion show.
I notice the snow picking up outside, blowing haphazardly in the strong wind that howls loudly. Staring at the large flakes hitting the windows, I ask, “Were the roads bad coming home?”
“They were cleared off.”
“Oh. Good.” I cringe at the choppy response but brush it off. I am glad the roads are clear. I know what can happen when they’re not this time of year. “We got in before they could get bad, but I…” I was worried about you. “I was hoping they’d be okay when you had to travel.”
Shaking my head at myself, I focus all my attention on my playdate with Ainsley. Every Sunday we do this—dolls, house, pretend bake, tea party, anything just to blow off steam and have fun. Later we’ll watch a movie and eat junk food and just enjoy each other’s company until bedtime.
East scoots forward. “Want anything from the kitchen? I’m going to grab a water.”
I force a smile as I look up at him, shaking my head. “I’m okay. Thanks.” He nods once and walks away, not seeing the twitch of my lips as they fall into a frown.
“I was worried about you,” I whisper audibly, brushing hair behind my ear. I roll my shoulders back and pick up the Barbie closest to me and hold her up. “What do you think, Nugget? Leopard print mini-skirt, or floral maxi dress?”
Ainsley points to a pair of denim jeans.
“Or that.”
I get to work dressing the doll.
The day is spent in silence.
Chapter Ten
I spend Monday’s lunch period crying in my car. Three tissues stained with off brand foundation and cheap mascara later, and an incoherent phone call to Jenna, I’m no better off. My eyes are red, my cheeks are flushed, and I can barely catch my breath. All I can think is, what am I going to do now?
Thinking back to the first half of my day, I consider all the ways I could have done it different. Like not going off on Harris and saying the administration shouldn’t have hired her. Or telling her that she had no right to judge my choices in Ainsley’s education because she wasn’t part of the decision-making process. Does she even have kids? She doesn’t know what’s best for them. If her daughter were in Ainsley’s shoes, she’d be sure to use her authority for good rather than self-righteous evil.
Bitch. She’s a total bitch just like Jenna said. And I had to bite my tongue hard to refrain from calling her as much when she said I had no right to speak to her the way I did. As an employee, I could agree. As a parent, not so much. But she didn’t care.
I have two options now. Go back inside and finish my day or go home and say screw it. Harris all but told me I was done. “Perhaps it’s best you found somewhere else to finish your student teaching.”
And that was it.
She smiled and walked out.
I know I should have walked out too, gotten in my car and gone home with a pint of edible cookie dough, but I didn’t want her to see me break. So, I went back to the class I was assigned to and pushed through until lunch. Then I broke down.
Hands shaking, I open the car door and take a deep breath. Tonight, I’ll speak to my adviser and figure out what can be done so I can graduate on time. If I have to wait another semester, I may pull out all of my hair. I’m already behind on my degree since taking time off to care for Ainsley, and now I need to finish it for her. For us—to get a steady job and finances.
The rest of the day goes as good as it can. I say what I need to in class, grade what I’m told to, and don’t interact more than necessary. I put a smile on my face when I pass by students and coworkers and try not to shove my afternoon yogurt in Karen’s face when she smirks at my blotchy expression.
When the last bell rings and the halls empty of students, I breathe easier from the façade suffocating me. Evie makes sure I’m okay after hearing what happened, and Diane brushes my arm when I tell her I won’t be back.
As soon as I bring Ainsley home, I order Chinese for dinner despite the probable shitty paycheck I’m bound to receive soon. Right now, all I care about is sweet and sour chicken, fried dumplings, and stir fry.
I’m surprised when the door opens as I clean up the kitchen, and I hear Easton talk to Ainsley in the living room. As I begin putting the leftover boxes of food into the fridge, he walks in with arched brows. I don’t blame him—a permanent scowl rests on my face since I got home that not even two plates of food could deter. Not to mention there are way too many boxes on the island. Normally I’d be embarrassed, but I could be doing worse things than eating my feelings.
I keep busy as he walks up to me, looking into one of the cartons closest to him. “There’s veggie stir fry labeled in the fridge. I got rice and cheese wantons too. Figured you’d eat some.”
“Piper.”
I close up the last box. “Sorry I didn’t get more. They didn’t have a lot of options and I haven’t seen you eat Chinese food before. Wasn’t sure if you ate it.”
“Piper,” he says quietly, coming up behind me and leaning in. “What’s wrong?”
My teeth grind. “Nothing.”
I go to bring the last of the food to the fridge, but he wraps
his palm around my upper arm to stop me. “Piper. Stop. Talk to me.”
Wiggling from his grasp, I yank my arm from his hold and face him. “Why do you care, Easton? I had a bad day. Shouldn’t you be at work or … somewhere?”
One of his brows goes up. “Somewhere being where? I go to work and here. Stop changing the subject. What’s wrong?”
This is the most we’ve talked in a while. Usually our conversations are a few sentences here and there, more often a word or two and that’s it. But the way his blue eyes survey my face, my pinched brows and thinned lips, has concern carved into his flawless features.
“Like I said, I had a bad day.”
“So, tell me about it.”
I close my eyes for a millisecond and let out a heavy sigh. “No offense, East, but I don’t want to. There’s a lot on my plate right now that I need to take care of.”
Finishing my task, I wait for him to walk away and leave me be. He doesn’t. When the counter is clear and plates are washed, he just stands there expectantly.
When I go to leave, he stops me again, pulling me into him and caging me between his body and the counter behind me. His body heat is too warm, too consuming, and the faint smell of peppermint on his breath has me swallowing from the taste I’ve become familiar to.
“East,” I plead softly. “Please stop.”
“Talk. To. Me.”
My jaw locks over his persistence. He shouldn’t care and I’m not sure why he does. Or maybe he feels obligated to since we live together—have slept together. Either way, my feelings are none of his concern.
He spins me around, a breath catching in my throat as his fingers go to my hips. He squeezes and then moves my hair away from my neck, peppering soft kisses against the back of it. “Talk to me, Piper. Just tell me what happened. You’ll feel better.”
Feel better. I’m sure I’ll feel a lot of things if he keeps going. The way his lips trail to the crook of my neck and teeth nip my skin has me arching backward, my butt brushing his hardening length. I bite my bottom lip as his hands move to the front of my pants, lingering on the button.
“I…” I try finding my words as he pops the button and slowly pulls down the zipper. “I don’t know why we’re even talking right now to be honest.”
His chuckle blows warm air against where his mouth caresses me. “You’re like me. It’s hard to talk about your problems face to face. But if you don’t, it’ll bottle up until it slowly kills you. Then you’ll lose your shit on the wrong people, at the wrong time.”
Again, he speaks from experience. His thumb brushes against the skin just above my panty line, not moving lower toward the ache that’s settled between my thighs. He’s right though. I always play off my feelings and pretend like it’s fine, when really it eats me up inside.
“I was fired,” I whisper, barely able to hear myself. It’s the last thing I want to admit aloud, knowing it makes things real. “Sort of.”
His finger dips below my panties, brushing my pubic bone. “How does somebody get sort of fired?”
I lick my lips and give him more access to my neck, letting him lick, nip, and kiss every inch of skin he can. His mouth lingers over my pulse for a moment as his free hand pulls at my pants to lower them enough to dip his hand into.
My lips tremble as he brushes my wet slit, the pad of his thumb pressing against my sensitive bundle of nerves. “There was a problem with … the principal about Ainsley. She doesn’t want Ainsley there because of her … p-problems. Oh, God.” Dropping my head back against his chest, I open my legs further as his fingers dip into my arousal. “That feels so good, East.”
He bites down further into my neck, then swipes his tongue against the same spot to sooth it gently. “The principal sounds like an asshole.”
Eyes fluttering closed, I nod. “She is. I wasn’t going to let her take Ainsley away when s-she’s smart enough to be there.” I talk quietly so Ainsley doesn’t hear, holding back the moan that creeps up my throat as he works me with his fingers. When he adds a second digit and begins entering me and hooking until he hits the perfect spot, I lean forward and bury my mouth in my arm to refrain from making noise.
“She fired you for being a parent?”
My lips part. “Yes.”
His kisses become lighter. “I’m sorry.”
Don’t be. I meet his fingers every time, grinding into him until his cock grows harder with every brush of my ass against the front of his jeans. “What are we doing?” I ask, feeling my orgasm building.
“Whatever the fuck we want.”
I bite my arm again as he quickens his movement, his fingers thrusting into me as his thumb rubs against my clit. “But I thought…” Just shut up, Piper, I scold myself. If I open a can of worms, it’ll be awkward.
I’m so close to coming when he asks, “You thought what?”
My breathing becomes heavier as I choke my whimpers down. Sweat dotting my brow, I grind down into his hand and make a gargled noise as I come hard. He lets me ride out the sensation, kissing my neck, jaw, and cheek until my body stills against him.
“You thought what?” he repeats, pulling his hand away and letting me zip and button my pants again.
I swallow. “Never mind.”
“Pip—”
“I have to get Ainsley ready for bed.”
Before he can answer, I walk around him and into the living room where Ainsley is intently watching another cartoon. She doesn’t even look at me when I sit down beside her, just keeps watching her show without a care in the world.
I envy her.
Her innocence.
But I know, deep down, her innocence was lost when her parents died. And we only have each other to get through the tough times.
“I love you so much, Nugget.”
Her eyes travel over to mine.
And she smiles.
I’m woken up to an unfamiliar sound that puts me on edge. It’s nearing five in the morning, too early to be up, but too late for East to just be getting home. I push the comforter off me and grab the baseball bat I keep next to my bed.
Tiptoeing out of the bedroom in my bare feet and oversized tee covering my body, I focus on the noise. I pause when I realize it’s coming from Ainsley’s room, and rush to open her door when I hear the muffled sound of crying. Resting the bat against the wall when I see her damp face buried in her pillow as she restlessly moves, I walk into the room and sit on the edge of the bed.
Something comes from her that cracks my heart in two as I move hair away from her sleeping face. Her cheeks are red, her lips pinched, and I can tell she’s in pain.
“Daddy,” she whimpers in a brokenly melodic tone I haven’t heard in so long. My lips part as she cries for Danny, and it’s only seconds before tears stream down my cheeks too.
“Baby girl,” I whisper, voice cracking as I brush my fingers through her hair. “Wake up, sweetie. It’s just a nightmare.”
But it’s not. She knows it was this day three years ago that her father passed away. I was hoping she’d be like any other kid with no sense of time. Of course, she isn’t. She’s aware—too aware. I can’t help her stop feeling the loss, the pain. I can only be there for her as she experiences it.
Ainsley doesn’t wake until I gently shake her arm, lip quivering at the way she bolts up. Her tear-stained face shatters me into tiny pieces, her arms wrapping around my neck and clinging to me. We both need this.
“I know, Nugget.” And I do. I know what it’s like to miss Danny. I loved him more than I should have, even when he couldn’t love me the same. Not before Ainsley’s mother, and not after her. Danny and I were never meant to be more than friends, and I…
Throat closing, I struggle to take a breath. My chest hurts when I think about the night he died. I’ve blamed myself every single day for causing his death. I may not have been behind the wheel of the car that lost control and hit his, but I was the reason he was even out in the weather he shouldn’t have tried battling.
; “Danny, wait—”
“We shouldn’t have done that, Piper.” The anguish on his face makes the hope on mine disappear. Any thought of us finally becoming something more than best friends extinguishes like a fire being doused by ice water.
“Danny…” My voice breaks, head shaking as he slides on his boots and grabs his jacket from the hook by my apartment door. “I thought…” What did I think? That we’d sleep together, and everything would change? We both made the choice.
But I realize his was out of pain. Not love. Not like my choice was driven by. I wanted every part of him—his heart, his thoughts, his body. And he wanted something different. An escape. An escape he regrets.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, zipping his coat and grabbing his keys from the end table.
I look outside at the blizzard they warned us about. “You can’t drive right now. You could get into an accident. Just stay here.”
“I can’t!” he yells, turning to me with red-rimmed eyes and an unreadable expression. His lips are drawn downward, and his brows are furrowed in like what we’ve done is burying him alive slowly.
And it kills me.
“Please. I’ll stay on the couch,” I beg, anything to keep him here. The visibility is poor through the window and I doubt it’s any better on the roads. “Think about Ainsley.”
The pain in his brown eyes intensifies. “I am, Piper. That’s why I have to go. My little girl needs me.”
I want to scream at him. Beg. Plead. What about me? What about how much I need him? But he doesn’t give me the chance before he opens the door, spares me one last look, before shaking his head and walking away.