For some reason, she’d woken up feeling a bit melancholy. Last night had been amazing. And Spike had woken her up this morning with his tongue on her clit. But then he’d pulled back. Instead of holding her afterwards, he’d immediately gotten up to shower. Which is where he was now.
You’re expecting too much. This isn’t a proper relationship.
It’s just that he ran so hot and cold sometimes that she couldn’t keep up. He was protective to the point of being ridiculous. She wasn’t to touch anything in the kitchen on her own. She couldn’t run up and down the stairs. She couldn’t bathe by herself. Or go far from the house.
He’d even done some research on good nutrition for vegetarians and had groceries delivered with plenty of protein alternatives for her. She’d never eaten so
well in her life.
But at the same time, it felt like he kept this distance between them. He spent most of his days in the office. Sure, he came out for movies or to feed her meals and snacks. He always got up early and let out Mr. Fluffy then would bring her coffee in bed. He would ask her if she was feeling okay, and get on her case if she didn’t eat right or drink enough fairy juice.
However, spending most of her days alone was wearing on her. So was the fact that she had things to do and couldn’t even leave the house. She was kind of lonely. And she didn’t feel like she had the right to ask him for more. Maybe he didn’t want to play with her Little. Maybe all her singing and dancing around the house just annoyed him.
It’s all for the best. You can’t go getting attached. Or falling in love with him.
That would be a disaster.
“What’s wrong?” Mr. Spain barked through the computer screen. “Why is she grimacing? Is she in pain? Did she hurt herself?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Spain,” she told him patiently. “I was smiling.”
“What? She was what?”
“She was smiling, you old fart,” Mrs. Spain said.
“What? Why do I care if she’s going to Walmart?”
Millie shook her head with a real smile this time.
“How are you, dear?” Mrs. Larsen asked. “Are you still staying with that boy?”
Mrs. Larsen considered anyone under the age of sixty to be a boy.
“Yes. I’m still here.”
“What’s wrong? Are you unhappy there?” Reverend Pat asked. “Has he done something to you?”
“Who did something to our eagle?” Andrey asked in his big booming accented voice.
“Eagle?” He’d never called her that before.
“Ya. Others say dove, but why would you wish to be a dove when you could be an eagle?”
Okay, she wasn’t in the mood to explain that one.
“I’m fine. No one has done anything to me. I’m just impatient and cranky from sitting around and doing nothing.”
Which wasn’t a lie. She’d never been good at waiting around. And it felt like nothing was happening, even though Spike had explained that he had people working on finding Corey, the Devil’s Sinners’ jerk.
“What’s going on with all of you?”
She heard the shower turn off as Mrs. Spain started talking about her garden and how the rabbits had gotten into her carrots.
Suddenly, her voice dried up and her mouth dropped open. “Mrs. Spain? Are you all right?” Was she having a seizure? Drool actually appeared in the corner of her mouth. Was she having a stroke?
“Mrs. Spain?”
“Is that your man, Millie?” Mrs. Larsen said loudly.