“Yes, but the best way to get over these things is to face them.”
“Are you going to hold a spider?”
“There is no reason I need to hold a spider. That is not a skill I’ll ever need for everyday life.” I fight a laugh at her stern tone. “You’re a brat.” I sit up laughing, crossing my legs under me.
“I’m going. I might find some hot guy I can bring home on my next break. Surprise Dad. I bet he’d love that.”
“Ha ha. Let’s not push it. Getting him to agree to let you go out of state for college was hard enough.” That had taken both of us. Thank God Trudy is always on my side. She has a way with my dad. She’s the only one that can ever seem to get through to him. “He wants you to call him tomorrow. Can you swing that?”
“Oh, you know me. My Saturdays are packed full. Let me check my busy social calendar to see if I have an opening.”
“This new college is making you sassy. I like it.” I smile into the phone. “Have fun but be safe. I love you,” she tells me.
“I love you, too.” I end the call. Trin comes bouncing in the front door a minute later.
“You’ve got to get better at locking the door,” she tells me.
“Sorry.” It isn’t a habit I am used to. I also don’t want to admit it wasn't a habit because at home no one could get near our front door. You had to pass through the front gate that had a guard at it. My dad does not mess around when it comes to safety.
“Two girls living together. We have to lock the door.” She turns, flicking the lock. I know she’s right. I’m learning that I’m not the most street smart person. “So what are we wearing?” She drops her bag down at the door.
“Jeans and a shirt?”
“Oh, look at you. Getting wild and not wearing yoga pants.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” Sometimes I’m not actually sure.
“Yes.” She walks over towards me, pulling my hair out of the ponytail I have it in. “Let’s get ready.”
“It’s only seven. Don’t these things start late?” I yawn thinking about it. I should have taken a nap.
“We’re going to eat first.” I perk up at that. Trin has a car which means we can go somewhere good.
“I’ll be ready in five minutes.” I pop up from the sofa. She grabs my arm.
“You’re not getting ready in five minutes.”
“I gotta at least put pants on.” I look down at my bare legs. We don’t have to leave right this second. I’m hungry and all, but pants are a must.
“I meant that it’s going to take us an hour to get ready.” I know this is not a fight I’m going to win. I lean down, grabbing the gummy bears off the coffee table to hold me over.
“You’re going to do my hair and makeup, aren't you?” She’s been trying to get at me since we moved in together. It’s not that I don’t like makeup. I just often forget about it. When I do remember to put some on, it’s usually only a little mascara and lip gloss.
“Oh, by the time I’m done with you you’re going to look damn sexy.”
“How is that different from how I look now?” I don’t necessarily think I am sexy but I think I look decent.
“Right now you got that whole adorable thing going on. That girl next door look.” She pulls me by my arm toward her bedroom. “How do you do walking in heels?”
“I’m actually not too bad,” I admit. I’ve had to go to a few events over the years that my father hosted. Trudy always picked me out something nice to wear. It typically included heels. I actually like them because they make me taller. The problem always was that I didn’t care much for the clothes that were paired with them.
“I’m not talking wedges,” she teases as she sits me down in her makeup chair and turns on the lights that line the mirror, almost blinding me.
“I give. Do with me what you want as long as you take me somewhere good to eat.” I put my hands up in mock surrender.
“Deal. But only after I make you look good enough to eat. You’ll have the mouths of those boys at that party watering to get a taste of you when I’m finished.”
I’m not so sure I want a boy. The man from the cafeteria today flashes into my mind. He’s been doing that since I saw him. There was nothing about him that even came close to being a boy.
Chapter Five
Daman
Socks. I suddenly like socks. I open a tab on the browser and search for thick, fluffy knee length socks. There’s a lot of choices so I order one of each. She definitely likes color. My eyes drift around my barren apartment. Two clicks and I have a green toaster in my shopping cart. The recommendations tell me I can also buy a green butter knife and then a whole place setting in green. I order it all. I feel accomplished.
Now time to pick out something to wear for dinner. It’ll be the first time we officially meet so I’ll need to make a good impression with her. It would be good if she’d fall in love with me so I don’t have to kidnap her. I don’t know much about how the whole Stockholm syndrome thing works. Anyone who locked me up has always ended up dying. I need to avoid that outcome with my girl.
I walk to the closet and throw open my doors. A sea of black confronts me. I rub the back of my hand across my forehead. My former profession didn’t really lend itself to colorful clothing. I pull on a pair of black cargo pants, a thin black turtleneck and top it all with a black leather coat. Even my belt buckle is black. At least I don’t have to worry about everything matching. After pocketing my wallet, I return to the computer and order a pair of green socks. They'll get here tomorrow. All I have to do is not mess up tonight and when I see her again, I can be decked out in things she likes.
My footsteps echo against the concrete floor as I head back to the computer to figure out the restaurant they’re going to. A man has to eat, after all. I’m not prepared for what’s on my screen. I take one look and grab my knife. And my gun. What my girl is wearing is illegal. Or should be illegal. High heels, short and tight skirt, a ripped T-shirt held together on the side and the shoulder with two knots I could slice off before she could voice a protest. Hell, a stiff breeze could probably render her tits out in a half second or less. I should’ve put a speaker in the ceiling because then I could’ve been her conscience telling her that going out dressed like this was going to cause problems. A glance down at the way my cock is filling up my loose cargo paints is exhibit A.
Red blurs my vision as I think of all the other men who are going to have the same exact reaction and then I’m going to have to kill them. For their own safety, I need my girl to wear different clothes. Or, better yet, stay inside. I head back for the closet. They’re going to have a sudden electrical problem only I can fix. For that, I’ll need my uniform.
Halfway to the wardrobe, there’s a loud knock on my door. More of a pounding. I ignore it, but the pounding continues, followed by a muffled shout, “Yo, Daman, I need to talk to you. It’s an emergency!”
Reluctantly, I redirect my course, dropping the knife and gun into a drawer by the front door. My neighbor, Flip, tumbles in as I open the door.