“I guess it’s much better to keep working as a waitress forever and writing songs that nobody will ever sing.”
Dad massages his temples, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know we’ve never had much money. But Aaron Blaze isn’t your meal ticket out of here—”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, well, why can’t I live a little? This is an exciting experience. I don’t see why I should stop unless you have a good reason.”
“I’ve given you—”
“The age thing? We both know you don’t care about that.”
“These rich men, they think they can do anything they want. He won’t treat you right.”
“Dad, you’re talking like we’re going to freaking elope or something. It was one kiss.”
I don’t tell him that eloping with Aaron would only make all of this so much better. I can’t see what his problem is, except that it’s weird for him to see his daughter kissing someone, anyone. But his reasoning against Aaron specifically doesn’t seem true to me.
But I don’t know what else it could be.
“It doesn’t matter now anyway. He doesn’t know my name and if I send a message to his PR people, they’ll probably just think I’m crazy. You ruined the one chance I had.”
I try to keep my voice soft. I love my dad and I never want to be mad with him, but it’s difficult when there’s so much regret twisting me up inside.
Dad sighs. “I did you a favor. Trust me. You don’t want to become some spoiled rich kid’s hobby.”
“That isn’t fair. How is he a spoiled rich kid? He came from nothing. He gives loads of money to charity, way more than most.”
Dad runs a hand over his head. “It sounds like you’ve been doing your research.”
“Maybe I have. Unless you’re going to kick me out based on who I date, I don’t think you can tell me no here, Dad. But I don’t want to fight.”
Dad softens, leans forward, and places his hand on my arm. “We could never fight, Billie. I love you. You’re my daughter. And you know your mother and I would die before we kicked you out. You’ll always have a place with us.”
“I love you, Dad.”
I squeeze down on his hand and then we walk into our apartment building together.
The elevator has been busted for what feels like years, so we take the stairs. Dad is nearing fifty and normally sturdy and strong, but he winces with each step, his hand on his hip. It’s a pain that began a few months ago and has lingered ever since. I sigh, silently wishing there was a way I could pay for his surgery, pay for my mom to start her management training course again... there’s so much I wish I could do for them.
When we get to the top of the stairs, dad turns to me, frowning tightly. “It would probably be best if we didn’t mention the kiss to your mother.”
“Why?” I say.
“Because she might not like hearing about her daughter kissing a rockstar.”
“But why?”
“Please, Billie. Can we just leave it?”
His tone becomes pleading, a note of something like desperation in it. I can hardly stand it.
“Okay, Dad. I won’t tell her.”
We walk into the apartment to find mom sleeping on the couch. An egg timer ticks from the kitchen divider and the TV plays one of her drama shows with the volume turned down. She looks so peaceful, and dad and I exchange a glance.
It’s only when I’m alone in my bedroom that I let my mind fully go over all that’s happened. I remember the way Aaron approached me, a fierce twist to his lips, his eyes pinning me in place with that flaring intensity.
Then he kissed me, and I was certain I was going to float up and away, out of my body, to find I was asleep on the floor. When his lips were roughly pushing against mine, when our tongues clashed, I accepted it. I tried to dig my fingernails into his shoulder, but I thought he might laugh at me, mocking my pathetic attempt to be sexy.
But as I lie back under the covers, I let myself think about what would’ve happened if I’d dug my fingers in harder. What if I’d squeezed against his bare skin, dragged my nails around to his back, and then pulled my body up close against his?
I could’ve slid my hand down his front, stroking over his massive manhood. In my fantasy, the arena is empty. It’s just us.
I slip my hand under my panties, softly stroking my clit, sliding down to my soaked slit. He’s got me so freaking excited. My panties are sticky, my core tingling when I softly brush around the edges of my entrance.
In my mind, I see Aaron tearing off his shirt, revealing his rippling tattooed chest.