distance, but I could still tell.” She smiles, looking intently into my eyes. “I can’t believe this, Velaney Wills. A cute guy you actually like?”
“I think I do like him…I mean, we just met, but we spent the entire time talking and it just felt so natural,” I gush, smiling.
“Holy shit, Lane. I have never seen you lik e this before over a guy! Like…you have little stars in your eyes or something. Maybe the pussy fairy is finally working her little magic,” she says, pretending to wave fairy dust over me. She lets out a loud laugh, making me laugh with her.
“Eh, who knows? He was probably just trying to be nice to me, and all, because he recognized me from the bar. He probably has a girlfriend or something.”
“And there’s the Velaney I know,” she mimics, rolling her eyes. “You need to stop being so self-conscious. Guys don’t sit and talk to girls for long periods for nothing. Trust me.” She crosses her arms, lecturing me. “And considering you were at a Laundromat— most unsexy place ever to meet a guy , and yet you met one.”
“I don’t know. Probably because he’s Kenna’s brother, he was just being nice.” Too nice.
“You seriously don’t see how hot you are, Lane. I mean, really? Would I have an ugly best friend? ” She smirks, making me laugh in amusement.
“Well, he says he is coming to the bar this Friday with some work buddies. Maybe you can find some man meat for yourself,” I say, rolling off the bed to grab a sweatshirt. I don’t like how my nipples are instantly hard at just the mere mention of his name .
“ Hubba, hubba,” she squeals like a cat in heat. I shake my head at her, jumping back on my bed next to her.
“Down kitty,” I tease.
“Never.”
I spend the rest of the night thinking about Alex and how possibly, just maybe he could be the one to break down my walls… break thru me. The mere thought of it makes me nervous as hell.
***
I was eight years old when I said my first cuss word. I was at the dinner table with my parents and my sixteen-year-old brother, Aiden. My mom had just passed me a large bowl of mashed potatoes. The bowl was hot and had slipped right out of my hands, landing on the floor. The bowl broke into a million pieces, making the food scatter all over the hardwood floor.
“Fuck!” I squeal ed, covering my mouth the second it slips.
“Velaney Rose Wills!” my mother screamed, slapping me with her loud squeal. I froze in my chair, unable to recover from the word that had just come out of my mouth.
Later that night, my dad tucked me into bed and soothed me by explaining that sometimes bad words slip out. My father was much more understanding than my mother when it came to mishaps. He made me feel better, rubbing my head until I fell asleep.
I hear my door creak open with a glimpse of the hall light shining in. Aiden walks in, reeking of something so horrible that I have to cover my nose up with my blankets.
“Velan ey…sweet little Velaney,” he sings, stumbling to my bed. I sit up, getting a better view of him. Something isn’t right. He’s unstable and not talking clearly.
“What are you doing in here, Aiden?” I ask ed, mad that he woke me up in the first place.
“I wanted to play with you, silly,” he slur red, barely making any sense. He strips out of his pants and shirt. He lifts the covers off me and crawls in next to me. He never showed any interest in being around me before, so the fact that he was in my bed now was confusing.
“I was sleeping,” I complained, hoping he got the hint.
“You need to be punished, Lane,” he sa id in a serious tone now, his giddy tone is no longer present.
“Why?” I asked, feeling scared.
“You said a bad word. God doesn’t like it when you use those bad words.” My mother ha d said this to my brother and me hundreds of times. I know they are bad, but I hear my dad repeat those words plenty of times when he is on the phone and doesn’t know I’m
“I think I do like him…I mean, we just met, but we spent the entire time talking and it just felt so natural,” I gush, smiling.
“Holy shit, Lane. I have never seen you lik e this before over a guy! Like…you have little stars in your eyes or something. Maybe the pussy fairy is finally working her little magic,” she says, pretending to wave fairy dust over me. She lets out a loud laugh, making me laugh with her.
“Eh, who knows? He was probably just trying to be nice to me, and all, because he recognized me from the bar. He probably has a girlfriend or something.”
“And there’s the Velaney I know,” she mimics, rolling her eyes. “You need to stop being so self-conscious. Guys don’t sit and talk to girls for long periods for nothing. Trust me.” She crosses her arms, lecturing me. “And considering you were at a Laundromat— most unsexy place ever to meet a guy , and yet you met one.”
“I don’t know. Probably because he’s Kenna’s brother, he was just being nice.” Too nice.
“You seriously don’t see how hot you are, Lane. I mean, really? Would I have an ugly best friend? ” She smirks, making me laugh in amusement.
“Well, he says he is coming to the bar this Friday with some work buddies. Maybe you can find some man meat for yourself,” I say, rolling off the bed to grab a sweatshirt. I don’t like how my nipples are instantly hard at just the mere mention of his name .
“ Hubba, hubba,” she squeals like a cat in heat. I shake my head at her, jumping back on my bed next to her.
“Down kitty,” I tease.
“Never.”
I spend the rest of the night thinking about Alex and how possibly, just maybe he could be the one to break down my walls… break thru me. The mere thought of it makes me nervous as hell.
***
I was eight years old when I said my first cuss word. I was at the dinner table with my parents and my sixteen-year-old brother, Aiden. My mom had just passed me a large bowl of mashed potatoes. The bowl was hot and had slipped right out of my hands, landing on the floor. The bowl broke into a million pieces, making the food scatter all over the hardwood floor.
“Fuck!” I squeal ed, covering my mouth the second it slips.
“Velaney Rose Wills!” my mother screamed, slapping me with her loud squeal. I froze in my chair, unable to recover from the word that had just come out of my mouth.
Later that night, my dad tucked me into bed and soothed me by explaining that sometimes bad words slip out. My father was much more understanding than my mother when it came to mishaps. He made me feel better, rubbing my head until I fell asleep.
I hear my door creak open with a glimpse of the hall light shining in. Aiden walks in, reeking of something so horrible that I have to cover my nose up with my blankets.
“Velan ey…sweet little Velaney,” he sings, stumbling to my bed. I sit up, getting a better view of him. Something isn’t right. He’s unstable and not talking clearly.
“What are you doing in here, Aiden?” I ask ed, mad that he woke me up in the first place.
“I wanted to play with you, silly,” he slur red, barely making any sense. He strips out of his pants and shirt. He lifts the covers off me and crawls in next to me. He never showed any interest in being around me before, so the fact that he was in my bed now was confusing.
“I was sleeping,” I complained, hoping he got the hint.
“You need to be punished, Lane,” he sa id in a serious tone now, his giddy tone is no longer present.
“Why?” I asked, feeling scared.
“You said a bad word. God doesn’t like it when you use those bad words.” My mother ha d said this to my brother and me hundreds of times. I know they are bad, but I hear my dad repeat those words plenty of times when he is on the phone and doesn’t know I’m
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