“When do you even talk to him? In between surgeries while you live at the hospital?”
“Please stop arguing, Arabella,” my dad said, rubbing his eyes. “He’s the closest thing you have to an uncle, and since Grandpa died, family is sparse. So, take what you can get.”
“Don’t I get a say in it?” I argued.
Why bother asking my opinion when they didn’t want to hear it anyway. They never had before when making a decision for me.
“What will you say, Arabella?” Mom asked. “You’ve been back from your backpacking adventures for two weeks and start school in less than a month. You sold your car to traipse around Europe for six months. Uncle Willem lives right off campus and can give you a ride if need be.”
“You could always help me with another one. Pay for half like you did the first, and I’d pay you back.”
Both parents knew better and silently shook their heads, moving on without even entertaining the idea.
“He was nice enough to offer when we told him you somehow forgot to apply for student housing,” Dad said.
I shrugged completely unrepentant. “Whoops.”
What can I say? I kind of hoped they wouldn’t hold me to my word of going to college, and maybe if I didn’t have a place to stay, then I wouldn’t have to go.
My world history class my junior year had sparked a light in me I didn’t know existed. From then on, all I could think about was traveling the world any way possible. I delayed my first year of college after high school and worked two jobs to save money. My parents let me know they wouldn’t be helping in any way if I put off college.
It would have been perfect, except my best friend, Felicity, got sick before we left, and the trip that we’d planned on splitting, had turned into a solo purchase. One I couldn’t afford.
“You’re not getting out of this. A deal is a deal,” Mom reminded me.
They’d ended up giving me the small amount I couldn’t make up in such short notice to cover Felicity’s portion, but I had to apply to college and be back in time to start the fall semester. They’d made me apply before I left, and I would have promised almost anything to get out that door.
“I know,” I grumbled.
“We thought you could leave a few weeks early and look for a job. Willem said you didn’t have to pay any rent, but you will be responsible for taking care of yourself.”
“Will I have a curfew? Or will I be allowed some freedom?”
“Jesus.” Mom’s arms flew in the air before pacing away.
I was being snotty, and I knew it. I just hated this pressure of a life I didn’t choose closing in on me. Especially after months of answering to no one but myself.
None of it was new. They wanted me to be a certain way and encouraged, as Mom put it, me to be better. I thought I was fine the way I was.
In the very stereotypical fashion, I tended to push back to keep them at a distance so their disappointment stung less.
“Will you be taking me? Or am I flying? If I’m flying, how will I know it’s him when I see him. It’s been so long. A stranger could come claim me, and I’d never know.”
My dad merely stared, used to my antics. “It’s been two years, I hardly think you could forget how he looks,” he deadpanned. “And you’ll be flying.”
I definitely didn’t forget how he looked.
I’d only seen him a handful of times at holidays when he could make it out to Denver, but the last time I’d seen him, I’d been old enough to understand attraction. It wasn’t like I was putting my non-existent daddy issues on him by finding him attractive. It was more factual—objective. Uncle Willem was hot.
He’d been tall, broad, dark hair, and ocean eyes. His square jaw had been clean-shaven with his hair slicked back. It’d been thanksgiving, and while I’d lounged around in my leggings and giant sweater, he’d looked put together in slacks and a button up.
Too bad I’d been into guys just as savage as my personality. So, while my feminine body recognized his looks, I’d been able to brush it aside.
I hadn’t talked to him the whole time, fully entrenched in my peak teen years of attitude. We’d had one moment when we crossed paths in the kitchen.
“Nice nose ring,” he’d said.
I’d given him my signature smirk and walked away.
“What about Todd and my friends.”
“Todd?” Dad asked.
“My boyfriend.”
“Please,” Mom scoffed. “If you expect me to think you’d want to stay for Todd, you must think I’m dumber than rocks.”
“You have a boyfriend?” Dad asked. “Since when? Have we met him?”
“Since before I left. He came to my graduation party.”
My dad’s face screwed up when he remembered the polar opposite of me. “The football player?”
“If Todd can be your boyfriend,” Mom added air quotes for good measure, “while you’re overseas for six months, then he can handle you going to college.”
“Listen, Arabella,” my dad said, ready to bargain to make it end. “You put in an honest effort at school, earn half the money for a descent car and we’ll pay the rest and make sure you have an apartment by summer.
At this point it was all a waste of time to argue. Even my own stubbornness had its limits. And the apartment didn’t matter—it was the promise of freedom and independence.
“Fine. I’ll pack this week, but I’m heading out to enjoy my last Saturday with friends.”
“Be back by midnight,” my mom called to my retreating back. “And we still need to talk about the tattoo I saw in one of your pictures. As well as the topless beach.”
“Topless what?” my dad screeched.
I chuckled but kept walking to grab my things.
All-in-all, maybe leaving home earlier than expected would be good. After having a taste of freedom, every rule that used to be my norm felt like a shackle tying me in place.
So, I’d move to Cincinnati with Uncle Willem and utilize the roof over my head. He could stay home and sip his tea by the fire while he read a good novel on how to tie the best Windsor knot. I’d be out and about and working my ass off to afford a place of my own.
I just needed to keep my eye on the prize and hope good ole Uncle Willem didn’t try to control me like some misplaced father figure.
As far as I knew, he was single with no kids. So, it’d be just him and me. I planned on not being there as much as possible.
Willem
“I can’t tonight, Tessa. My niece is coming in.”
“Niece? Since when do you have a niece? And how have you not told me about any family? We’ve been together for almost a month?”
By together, she meant fucking. We’d been fucking for a few weeks—on occasion. It was time to cut ties, and maybe having Arabella here would be the perfect excuse. I should have done it sooner, like the first night I realized how incompatible we were. I’d tested her limits and lightly fisted her hair, and she’d winced with a whine that damn near stole my erection. It wasn’t like I wanted to tie her up and cane her, but I was a big guy with a big appetite, and I liked a woman who could handle both sides of me—the one that tortured with soft touches and teasing kisses and the one that gripped so hard I left bruises as I fucked you into next week. I liked a woman who wouldn’t cave to me throughout the day, only to kneel and beg me for release later that night.