“I’m not that easy to get rid of, Princess.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“You heard Vin, and if you didn’t, then let me lay it down for you. I am your fucking babysitter until he gets here in the morning.”
I push the door, forcing her back so I can pass.
With my hands on my hips I study the place, seeing a twin bed and an even smaller sofa. Well this is going to suck.
“I heard every word he said, but I’m here and I can promise you I won’t be leaving, again.” She rambles on with some nonsense, I couldn’t care less about. “My night is completely ruined thanks to you. I’ll be lucky if my friends are even going to want to see me tomorrow after the embarrassment you put me through.” That is until her last sentence pushes me once more over the edge. How fucking dare she put all the blame on me.
Turning back to her, I point at her. “It was your fault. All you had to do was walk out.”
“Leave, Gunner.” she orders, trying to make her voice stern.
Shrugging, I reply, “No can do.”
Moving back to the door, I shut it and lock the piss-ass excuse of a knob, then head straight for her bed. Quickly removing my shoes, I unbutton my shirt and let it drop to the floor, and with one swift move, I fall back onto the twin mattress.
“What the hell are you doing?! That’s my bed.”
“Not tonight, Princess.”
“Quit calling me that.”
“I hope you have an extra blanket.” Her mouth is agape, shocked at my nerve. Laying one of my arms behind my head, I tell her, “You better settle in, Princess.” I use the word again, knowing she hates it. “Your stand-in daddy will be here in the morning to shovel out your punishment.”
My words visibly bother her, but she never says a word, looking completely worn out. She simply turns around, facing her desk. After a minute or two, I watch as her arms lift and start fumbling with her breasts again. She pulls something out and lays it down on her desk.
“What’s that?”
“Forty dollars.”
One of my brows raises in question. A key, now money? “What else you got in there?”
“None of your business.”
She walks over to her chest of drawers and I can see her inhale, holding it in for a second too long.
For some odd reason, I ask out of concern, “Chloe?”
“Can you at least turn around so I can change out of this dress?”
It’s then my eyes roam around the room, noticing she doesn’t have a bathroom. Dammit.
“Fine, but no tricks.”
“I told you, I’m done.”
Not believing her one hundred percent, I aggravatedly turn my body to face the wall. She shuts the overhead lights out and turns on a lamp, allowing me to see her shadow play out against the wall.
Carefully, I watch the shadow, making out the rise of her arms as she shimmies out of the tight dress that fits her like a second skin. It’s hard for me not to turn back around to see the impression I must have made on her smooth skin. Swallowing hard, I continue to watch her shadow dig around for something else to put on. It’s wrong as hell, but it’s taking everything in me not to take a peek. She might be a pain in the ass but the… dude wasn’t lying. It’s a very nice ass. A very untouchable ass.
When I can make out she’s pulled something over her head, I maneuver my body back around quietly, hoping to catch just a glimpse. But she’s in the middle of putting one of her legs through a pair of sleep shorts with an oversized T-shirt on, that is unfortunately swallowing her whole.
“I wasn’t done.”
“The shirt is long enough to cover everything,” I tell her.
She ignores me and pulls her shorts up all the way before turning towards her closet, retrieving a blanket. The lamp gets turned off, ending the night as my gaze follows her steps to the sofa.
It’s quiet, too quiet. My eyes want to shut, but I can’t until I know she’s fast asleep. My mind wanders back to the desk, the money and curiosity wins out. “Why forty dollars?”
“What?”
“Why such a specific amount?”
I really don’t expect her to answer me, but then she says, “My mom always used to make Brittany bring enough money for a cab, and her house key. You know, just in case. An Uber driver would easily charge forty dollars on the weekend.”
“Hmm. It’s smart.”
“Yep, that’s me. Smart.”
My head swings in Chloe’s direction at her snippy words, and I ponder, just how caged is she?
Minutes later, my eyes desperately want to shut, but I hear Chloe ask softly, “What happened to you?... The scars… I know it’s from burns.”
My eyes pop open and stare into the darkness. I didn’t think she’d noticed. She didn’t linger or flinch like most people do, nor did she say or ask anything earlier. My hand travels down my arm, feeling the rigidness of my burnt flesh. The tattoos cover them well, but not up close, and definitely not by touch. I’m actually surprised I removed my shirt in front of her. I didn’t even think about it like I normally do. It hardly ever happens. I keep them covered. Only one or two women have ever seen them because I don’t need to see their repulsion to fuck them or their questions.
I don’t need it now either. “Go to sleep, Princess.”
5
Gunner
Bang…Bang.
My eyes open to someone pounding on the door. “Okay, hold your britches. I’m coming.”
Sitting up, I bend, picking up my shirt. Standing, I slide my arms into it and look down at a sleeping Chloe. I don’t know what time I fell asleep, scared she would try to sneak off, but I know it was hours. Then I was woken up again with the loud drunken voices in the hall from everyone returning to their dorms. Whoever is knocking better have a damn good reason for waking me up at… oh hell… six a.m.
Buttoning the last button, I open the door to an angry Vin who eyes me up and down.
“Are you going to stand there or come inside so I can leave?” I ask, abrasively.
His eyes nail me with another threatening look before pushing past me. Closing the door, he spots Chloe. “You couldn’t be a gentleman and let her sleep in her own bed?”
“Have you seen my car?”
I sit on the bed, putting my shoes on as he tries to wake sleeping beauty. “Chloe, Chloe.”
Finished with my shoes, Vin calls out to her again, “Chloe, wake up.”
Jesus, she sleeps like the dead. Smiling, I spy a half full bottle of water sitting on her nightstand. Reaching for it, I stand up taking the two steps to the sofa, and squeeze the bottle, letting the water squirt all over her face. She jumps up, screaming, wiping the water away from her face.
“What the fuck!” she screams and gives me a pair of eyes I shrug off. Repositioning herself, she squeaks in a little discomfort. I know it’s from her ass, which doesn’t surprise me. What does is that she glances at Vin and doesn’t say a word to him about it. Hmm.
I forget about it when Vin scolds me with, “Was that really necessary?”
“She’s up, isn’t she?”