I got out to find Diana waiting there with a smile on her face. “What’s with that look?”
She smirked. “I was just making sure that you didn’t sit inside your van any longer than you needed to.”
She was right.
I would’ve sat out here for at least ten minutes as I psyched myself up to go inside and get ready with her.
She eyed my clothes from my feet to my hair.
Then she smiled. “Those red sequin boots are beautiful on you with your tanned legs. You’re getting a lot of sun this year. How am I not?”
“Because you refuse to deal with anything bigger than a pig,” I explained.
And she had.
If it was a horse or a cow, she wasn’t touching it.
I, on the other hand, had no shame.
Money was money, and the bigger they were, the better they paid. And I was all about making as much as I could at that moment in time.
Because, sadly, money was tight. Even tighter than it had been when I’d been working at the vet clinic.
Why, even though I replaced that job with another?
Because what little I was able to access out of the account my stepmonster and father also had access too had gone dry.
As in, there wasn’t a single cent in it. The moment money hit, it was right back out, as if it’d never been in the first place.
That was, sadly, what I got for fucking with my stepmother.
She was a vindictive bitch, and would rather wait up until three in the morning when that money hit my account, and immediately take it out, than give me access to even one single cent.
Something in which she’d done now multiple times. Sometimes, she let me think I had some. So I’d go to the bank to withdraw some, and when I’d get there, there’d be an error, as if whatever money had been there was now gone.
My guess, she had some sort of secret access to my whereabouts, and allowed me to think that I’d get some. But the moment I got close enough to the bank, she’d remove it.
Poof. Gone.
“True,” she said. “You’ve spent a lot of time out there. But if that was the case, you’d have some funky tan lines due to the muck boots you wear. But you don’t.”
She had a point.
But I made it a point to spend some time outside every day to get some good old-fashioned vitamin D. That meant, every single morning, I went outside, practically naked, and lay out on my balcony with my feet stretched high on the railing.
Speaking of balcony… that would suck not to have that anymore. I felt like I was on top of the world in my little private oasis.
I’d have to find a place for all of my plants…
“Let’s go,” she said. “I’ll give you some fighter braids.”
I rolled my eyes. “Those are just the easiest for you to do. Since I notice you’re not ready yet.”
“I just have to put on some blue jeans, because Bain gets all bent out of shape when I wear shorts on the bike,” she explained. “I swear this is a really laid-back get-together.”
I shrugged and followed her inside, spotting Bain at the kitchen counter with his hips leaning against the granite. His eyes locked on his girl.
Sometimes, when I was around them, I felt like my entire soul was cringing inward.
Not because I hated what they had, but because I wanted it so bad.
I wanted someone to treat me like Bain treated his “Luce.”
“Luce,” Bain said. “You almost ready?”
“I need ten minutes. Five to braid Mattie’s hair, three to get dressed, and two to go to the bathroom.” She mapped out her plan. “Did you get the hair ties?”
I grimaced. “I forgot.”
She shrugged. “That’s okay. I have enough to get me through the next couple of times.”
She then produced a few black ties from her kitchen junk drawer.
I sat on the ottoman with my back to Bain, because his intensity made me uncomfortable.
At least with my back to him, I didn’t have to see his eyes.
Making eye contact was not one of my problems.
However, I think making eye contact with Bain, or any of his friends, was an intensity that barely anyone could handle. Let alone someone that already had issues.
Diana had an iron set of brass balls to be able to deal with Bain on any level.
“Here, hold this,” Diana urged as she gave me half my hair.
I held it and twirled it around my finger like I always did, until she’d finished with one side.
Right when she finished with the other, the front door opened and closed, and then I heard that achingly familiar voice say, “What’s up, loser?”
I rolled my eyes as I heard the unmistakable sound of backslapping and skin meeting skin.
A bro hug.
Or, at least, that was what I called it whenever I saw them all hug when they hadn’t seen each other for a while.