21
Spence
Chinese takeout was nixed by my high-maintenance priss. Pizza only received an unenthusiastic ‘Meh’, and the MREs that I keep on hand were straight up dismissed with a threat of her never returning again if I made the same offer twice. So what did we do? We cooked together.
We washed and cut vegetables. We marinated steak. We boiled potatoes and mashed the shit out of them until the butter oozed, and Abigail’s infectious laugh fucked me up inside.
For the first time in my life, I’m eating dinner with candlelight and soft music playing in the background. And surprisingly, I don’t hate it. Better yet, I enjoy it so much, my face aches from smiling.
Miss Priss has a sense of humor, once you scratch beneath the surface and she stops trying to push you away.
She wears jeans again tonight, and a coral top with sleeves that only go to her elbows. It’s funny how Ashley can wear spaghetti straps and have her tits hanging out, and I react much the same way Abigail did to the thought of pizza, but put Priss in a cute top that shows no curves and only a little forearm and throat, and my body does strange things.
It almost feels like eighteenth century England;show us ya ankle, miss!
She stops chewing her lip when she relaxes, which is both a pleasure and a pain. I love seeing her nibble that fucker, because it sends my mind into a thousand different directions, though they all end in my cock. But knowing she’s relaxing also feels good.
We eat our food, I experience my first real date, and Abigail enjoys herself so much, I bear witness to my first ever throw-her-head-back, belly-bouncing, hyena-laugh when I tell her about some of the stupid shit my friends and I have done over the years.
I don’t mention girls, and I keep the topics mostly legal.
Abigail tells me about her brothers, and how despite every shitty encounter I’ve had with them so far, we would actually get along if everyone stopped with the ‘Alpha crap’.
Her words.
My priss says ‘crap,’ and it’s almost as sexy as if she just came out and said that other C-word.
The universe smiles down on us, because for the two hours from when we peel the first vegetable until now, my security remains untouched. No one comes onto my property. No one calls me. No one even goes on the properties of those homes I’ve set up security for –I wonder what Abigail would say about her brother and her assistant? – so I get to tune into the red-haired beauty, and help her become more comfortable in my presence.
“So you’re saying you go to the hospital in your spare time and visit with the sick kids?”
She sips her one and only glass of wine and shrugs. “Few times a week. I seem to favor Marcie, though. She’s seventeen and sassy. She has a thing for my brother, which is weird.”
“But… why?”
“Because he’s my brother!”
“No.” Chuckling, I bring my beer up and take a sip. “I meant the hospital. Why do you go there? I’m not saying what you’re doing isn’t amazing and selfless, I just mean, why? You don’t have a hobby to take up?”
Her eyes turn thoughtful. “I like to visit with them. I like to give them something new to focus on. They spend every day and every night staring at the same walls. Same posters. Same doctors and nurses. Same curtains. The hours drag for them, while the rest of us rush around and complain there’s not enough time in a day to get all of our work done. Those kids are being poked and prodded all day long, and often, those pokes are for the chemotherapy being pumped through their veins. They’re poisoning themselves in hopes that the poison will kill the cancer before the cancer and the poison killsthem.”
She takes another small sip to buy herself time. “It’s an hour or two out of my day. Not a sacrifice at all, and for the time I’m there, they smile and forget their world stinks.”
“But how did this become a thing for you? I can’t say I’ve ever considered visiting the hospital except to visit my own friends. And they’re rarely there for more than a couple days.”
“Well…” She pauses with a smile. “Maybe I’m less selfish than you are?”
I tilt my beer and laugh. “Ain’t that the truth. I don’t deny that I’m selfish. I mean, aren’t we all? It’s human nature, no? Puppies fight each other for their mom’s milk. Colleagues compete for the promotion and pay raise. Soldiers fight to be the winner in battle. We all have our own best interests at heart, it’s a survival instinct. I guess you’re just less mean about it.”
“You’re probably right. My visits are self-serving too, I suppose. They help me remember my life is pretty good.”
“Morbid,” I chuckle. “Compare yourself to the sick kids. It’s one way to remember shit ain’t all that bad.”
Abigail’s eyes darken as she watches me. A pregnant pause, tension, worry. She draws her bottom lip between her teeth, and sends my heart into a spiral of uncertainty.
“What?”
“I spent a lot of my time staring at those walls once,” she whispers. Her eyes turn scared. “Wishing someone other than my brothers would visit and tell me what it’s like to be on the other side.”