Colson is always at my house, spending nearly every spare second he has with us. My dumb step-brother's sexy as hell best friend. Have I dreamt of my wedding day? Only a zillion times over the years. Has Colson been the groom? Always.
"Hey, Lolli." Colson has called me Lolli since I crashed my bike when I was five and cried. My step-dad Darrell brought me a lollipop for being a 'good girl'. Scooping me up into a hug to ease the pain from falling. Colson watched me light up for a lollipop, so from that moment forward, I was forever known as Lolli. Even though I tell him all the time to call me Ronni, I still enjoy the nickname. But I'm eighteen now, and no longer a little girl. The six month marker of turning eighteen and the anniversary of my mother’s passing fall on the same day. I’ve spent my entire life missing one parent, and now I miss them both. Even if I don’t remember my father, I still miss him.
"Hey, Col. What's your guys plan for the day?" I ask, pushing the breakfast potatoes around on my plate. Darrell is an amazing cook, and we always have fantastic meals. He has this thing about making sure that I’m fed well, eating everything on my plate. But, today I’m just not in the mood to finish eating.
Colson leans over me, wrapping his arms around my body, hugging me closely. My back to his chest as I sit in the chair. "A little thing was eyeing me yesterday, and I was thinking about introducing her to my wonderful wand that knows all the right spells." He kisses my cheek and stands back up. I blush knowing exactly what he's talking about, and who. I teased him yesterday in a short plaid skirt and a hot pink top that fits snuggly. Obviously without the others knowing, I don’t need that kind of drama from the house.
"As if, Col. No one wants your magic cock when it's only the size of a fucking pencil." Dash bounces off his chair to rise off his plate. Colson moves around to the otherside of the table, he’s fucking glorious with his sandy blonde hair and green eyes that have the softest glimmer of orange.
"You wish it was the size of a pencil, that way when it slides into your ass at night, it wouldn't hurt so much." Colson claps back. I choke on my last bite of eggs, trying really hard to make gagging on food sexy. I fail.
"Careful, sis. Your whore is showing." Dash raises an eyebrow at me while I take a drink of milk. My life is pretty normal, right? Except I’m surrounded by men who would put some of the hottest movie stars out on their ass.
"You're just jealous I get to play with tits whenever I want," I say, grabbing my chest. They aren't massive, but they're an overflow handful size, well for me. They'd fit perfectly in Colson's hands though. Outside of this house, no one would ever hear me speak like this; I’m free to be myself at all times, but I don’t want the judgemental looks from the outside world, so my bubbly exterior stays intact.
"Enough," Mitch says, slamming his fist on the counter. "If Dad was here he'd rip you all a new asshole." Mitch likes to pretend he’s in charge when Darrell’s not in the room. Bossing us around like we’re a bunch of children.
I'm not entirely sure if Colson and Dash actually fool around or not, but the idea of it is hot. Like stick my hand down my pants and finger myself while I watch hot.
"Ready for church?" Darrell asks as he barrels into the kitchen in his light blue button down tucked nicely into his jeans. He gives off Papa Bear vibes, like he will rip you apart if you push him too far, but sweet and kind hearted, making sure everyone around him is taken care of. Dash looks the most like him, with those piercing blue eyes and dark hair. Where Dash’s hair is wild and untamed, Darrell keeps his styled back.
"Yup."
"Ready."
"Let's go."
I of course sigh. I hate going to church now. It feels like a lie. I used to believe in God, but then he took my mother away from me and left me alone in this world. Now, I have Darrell, who's cool. He still reminds me that he's not actually my father. That he only married my mother. He's taken me in, yes. Been like a father, yes. But I still to this day call him Darrell. I tried to call him Dad once, and he looked at me as if I killed someone. He told me that he wasn’t my father and he would not be called that again. So, I don’t call him anything other than Darrell.
I follow the guys out to the garage, and we all climb into the SUV. Mitch and Darrell up front, with me sitting between Colson and Dash in the back. Colson always puts his hand down in the seat and runs a finger along my thigh. His touch sends a shiver through my body. I keep my attention on my phone, scrolling through videos of annoying people dancing to silly songs. I always feel like a little girl giggling when his finger traces the edge of my thigh that rests against the seat. Everything in me tells me to just take a chance, but then I see Dash, who has a stern face, with his blue eyes and careless hair.
Last week while we listened to the preacher talk, Colson held my hand. Secretly of course. Nothing out in the open, not like anything’s happened yet aside from touching briefly or holding hands.
We attend a private school, and everyone there parties, except me. I have to keep the innocent look going, especially since my mother died. At least until I blow this popsicle stand. I can’t wait to find myself away from the never ending looks of ‘poor girl who lost her mother’ or ‘the girl who has no friends’. It's entirely too much sometimes.
Darrell stops the SUV, parking it in his favorite spot at church. The furthest one away from the door as there are people who need the closer ones. In my opinion, if they wanted closer parking then they should have gotten to church on time. Darrell says that, one day, I’ll be an adult, and when I drive myself to church, I can park wherever, I just have to remember that there are people out there who aren’t as lucky as I am. He’s always thinking of other people, making sure they have what they need. Sometimes even things they want.
Colson opens the door and climbs out, offering me a hand, like he always does. I take it, feeling his thumb rub along my fingers a little longer than he should in front of everyone. Looking up at him through my lashes, I give him a soft smile.
Church is well, church. They drone on about all these things, making each passage fit how they need it to. Taking the verse and making it their own. When all I see are a bunch of hypocrites. Mrs. Vincent is 'happily married,' putting on a good show for the public, but she bangs the mailman. Mr. Sanders sits there in his three piece suit ,but I know for a fact he has a thing for younger men. And the preacher up there, telling us the story of when his wife was sick, how he asked God for help, and then one day, she miraculously got better. It was the doctors and medicine that made her better. Because if God was real, where was he during all of my praying and pleading when my mom was sick?
"Pay attention, Lolli.," Colson whispers under his breath, giving my hand a quick squeeze.
I stick my tongue out at him and stand up. Darrell grabs my wrist, turning me to face him. "Ladies room. I'll be quick," I say using my 'I'm the super innocent one, you can trust me' voice.
He lets go, and I continue down the aisle toward the back. When I reach the double doors, I drop my posture and let out a sigh. The statue of Jesus on a cross stares at me, almost like he's judging me for not being at the pew with everyone else. "Judge not, that ye be not judged," I tell the statue.
I was given free will, so if my will is to no longer believe, then am I not made to be like this? I drop my gaze away from Jesus and follow the gold and white marbled floor to the bathrooms.
Staring at the mirror, I see a shadow of myself. I'm here, but am I?
"Lolli." Colson's voice is a whisper as he makes his way into the girls bathroom. I jump at the sight of him in here with me and watch as he flips the lock on the door. "Why must you tease me?"
"Why are you so easy to tease? A little ass shake here and an eye bat there, and I've got you eating out of my palms." I take a step away from him.
His tall, thin build is masked with an oversized leather jacket. He's not bulky like most of the jarhead wanna-bes in my class. He's perfectly slim with a pair of square glasses perched up on his nose.
I watch as his long strides bring him closer to me. "I've been eating out of your palms for thirteen years, Lolli." Colson touches my cheek with his thumb. "I just have to watch myself around Dash." He takes a deep breath in.