Laine

I wake up on my own, and my heart does a little jump. A flip of panic at the thought he’s left me, that he doesn’t want me in the cold light of day.

I slip out of bed and grab my dressing gown, my feet quick on the stairs as I make my way down, and there he is, in the kitchen, and he’s cooking.

He’s already dressed, and he looks even more perfect in his suit this morning. His hair is slick and styled, and so dark that way that you can barely see the grey at his temples. His shirt is crisp and white, and he’s so careful as he fries up eggs.

“Morning sleepyhead,” he says, and he’s smiling. His smile makes my tummy flutter. “I was just about to wake you. Food’s up.”

He flips the eggs onto a plate, and grabs some toast from the toaster. Bacon, too. I smell bacon.

It’s the best smell in the world on a Monday morning.

I take a seat with a smile, say yet another thank you, and my fingers brush his as I take my plate from him. I feel it all the way up my arms.

“Are you all set for college?” he asks. “Anything else you need?”

He takes a seat opposite, tucks right in to his eggs like I didn’t just call him Daddy last night. Like he didn’t sleep in my bed with his big, hard cock against my ass.

“I’m all set,” I say.

“Good.” His eyes are so dark on mine. “I think we should make a start on those ground rules.”

Rules.

I can handle rules.

I nod. “Ok.”

“I’ll be dropping you at college and picking you up at the end of the day. If there are any problems, you call me. If you’re going to be late, you call me. If you need anything, you call me.”

I nod. “Sure.”

“We eat dinner together every evening. You do your college work here. If you need help with it, you ask me.”

“Ok.”

His eyes don’t leave mine. “Do you have any obligations, Laine? Any jobs? Friends? Clubs you need to attend?”

I shake my head. “Just babysitting. Casually. Most weekends.” I pause. “And Kelly Anne. Sometimes I hang out with her.”

“There’s no more need for babysitting, Laine. You’ll have an allowance. It’s better you concentrate on your studying.”

I feel like I should argue, tell him he’s done too much already, but there’s something different about him this morning. Something so… authoritative.

I don’t want to argue with him, so I don’t.

And I like that I don’t.

I like how it feels to have rules.

To have someone who cares the way he does.

“Ok,” I say, and he smiles.

“Good girl.” He tips his head. “How are your eggs?”

I’ve barely noticed them. “Perfect,” I say, and it’s true. They’re just right. Just the right amount of runny.

I dip my toast in and they sure taste great.

Everything is great around Nick.

He slides my phone across the table. “I’ve saved my number in your contacts. You’re on an unlimited plan.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll call you, at lunchtime. Just to check in on you.”

I can’t stop my goofy smile. “Thank you.”

“There’ll be other rules,” he tells me. “But they aren’t for now.”

I nod. “Ok.”

Ok. Everything really does feel ok.

Better than ok.

I feel all the words in my throat. Words about last night, about how good it felt to have him beside me. About how much I like him, how grateful I am, how he’s the best thing ever, and I really mean it.

But they don’t come out.

I just smile, like an idiot, and eat my breakfast.

He takes my plate when I’m done and loads it into the dishwasher with his.

“Get ready,” he says. “We leave in fifteen minutes. We can’t be late, Laine. I’m never late.” He fastens up his cufflinks and slips on his suit jacket from a hanger on the door, and I’m staring, gawping like a silly fool, until he raises an eyebrow. “Chop-chop,” he says, but his eyes are sparkling. “You don’t want to try my patience, sweet thing.”

I don’t try his patience, not even a bit. But there’s a weird flutter between my legs at the thought.

* * *

Nick

She cradles her lunchbox in her lap, looking at it as though she’s never had one before. Maybe she hasn’t.

It pleases me to see her so taken aback by simple gestures. It’s one of the things I love the most about Laine, the way everything is a wonder, everything is such a gift.

Spoiling Laine Seabourne brings me great pleasure.

Disciplining Laine Seabourne will easily bring me equal pleasure.

But I don’t let myself consider that. Not yet.

Not before we’ve worked out the ground rules.

I pull up at the college and she looks so hesitant.

“All set?” I ask, and she nods. “I’ll call you at lunch.”

She nods again, but she doesn’t move. “Thank you, for the ride.”

“My pleasure,” I tell her, and her little fingers grip the door catch before she changes her mind and leans in my direction.

Her lips brush my cheek for just a moment, but I feel the contact right the way through to my dick.

“See you later, Nick.”

Nick.

That will have to change.

All in good time.

I watch her leave, her college bag thrown over her shoulder, her tiny frame wrapped up tight in her new coat. She’s still holding her lunch as she makes her way to the entrance, and it fills me with a sense of satisfaction I’ve been missing for far too long.

It feels so good to have someone to take care of. Someone to care for.

Someone to love.

I’m about to pull away when I see a girl bound up the steps and grab hold of Laine’s elbow. The girl has a mass of dark curls, a face full of makeup, and I know, instinctively, that this must be Kelly Anne. Laine’s useless, selfish non-friend.

I see Laine shrug, and Kelly Anne is looking in my direction. She sees the car and says something, and Laine shrugs again before she carries on walking.

I wait until they’re out of sight before I drive away.

I think it’s time Kelly Anne was added to the ground rules.

I make a mental note of that for later.

* * *

Laine

“So? What the hell, Laine? Who’s the Mercedes guy?”

Kelly Anne won’t let up, and it’s annoying. It makes me feel awkward and uneasy, like she’s poking at something too private to be shared.

“That’s Nick,” I tell her, like my answer stands a hope in hell of cutting it. “The guy who rescued me.”

“Nick,” she says. “And what’s the deal with Nick?”

“He’s looking after me.” I try to outpace her but she’s having none of it.

“Looking after you how?”

“I’m staying with him… while my house gets sorted… you know, the house you gave the key away to, the house that got totally invaded by a load of deadbeats from a shitty club while I was stranded in the rain.”

She looks so horrified, and I’m glad.

I nod my head. “Yeah, Kels, that house.”

“Jeez, Laine, I’m sorry. Mum saw Mrs Barnes from down your street yesterday, said your house got all fucked up. I’m a total fucking ass.”

I don’t reply in the affirmative, even though I probably should. “Nick’s letting me stay at his. He sorted me out with some clothes. Brought me to college.”

She stares at the lunchbox I’m still clutching to my chest. “Made you sandwiches…”

“Yeah, made me sandwiches.”

She tugs at my elbow, but I don’t let her see inside the box. “Don’t you think that’s a little…”

“A little what?”

She pulls a strange expression. “I dunno, a little creepy? Some random guy rescues you, buys you dresses and packs you a lunchbox. That’s a bit creepy, no?”

I shrug. “He’s not creepy. He’s really nice.”

“He could be a serial killer. Ted Bundy was a really nice guy, you know.”

I laugh. “You’ve been watching too much CSI.”

“Yeah, and you’re really sweet. Too sweet. Like take advantage of sweet.”

She’d be the one to know. If only I was bitch enough to point that out.

“I may not be worldly wise like you, but I’m not stupid. He’s a nice guy. I like him.”

And I guess I say like him with a little too much conviction, because her eyes widen and she gives me that look. The interrogation look.

“You like him?! Like really like him? Like want his dick like him?”

I sigh, back myself into the wall to let some people pass. “Yeah, I like him. I like him like that.” And now I’ve said it I feel it all over again. The tickles and the flutters. That feeling of burning up. The memory of his body against mine.

Kelly Anne’s mouth is open, and she looks so shocked. The most shocked I’ve ever seen her look.

“But he’s… he’s…”

“He’s what?”

She struggles for words, which is totally unlike her. “He’s like… old. Like an old guy.”

“He’s not an old guy.” I laugh, and it sounds so high-pitched. “He’s forty-two, that’s not old.”

“My dad’s forty next summer, Laine. Forty. And he’s an old guy.” She sighs. “This Nick guy’s old enough to be your dad, Laine. Isn’t that weird?” She screws her face up. “Gross.”

The thought makes my heart pound, as though she’ll know. Know the dirty thoughts I want to keep all to myself.

“I haven’t really thought about it like that,” I lie. “I just like him.”

“And does he like you?” Her eyes are right on mine, and I can’t lie. I don’t know where to look. “Has he… tried anything?”

I shake my head. “No… it wasn’t him… it was…”

“It was what?”

I feel my cheeks burning, and I put my finger over my lips until another crowd of students pass us by. “It was me…” I whisper. “I… I tried something…”

The grin spreads right across her face. “You tried something?! For real?”

I nod. “Yeah, and it was stupid, alright? I made a fool of myself.”

She’s trying not to laugh, I can tell. “I’m sure you didn’t…”

“Yes,” I say. “I totally did.”

“And what did he do?” she’s smiling so bright.

“He… he told me I didn’t have to say thank you that way.”

“And you don’t, Laine. Using sex for that is totally skanky.”

I don’t even try and work out where Kelly Anne’s rules on skanky sit. In her world it’s ok to put it about to anyone who looks hot after a couple of tequilas, but clearly not to express gratitude that way. It’s ok to ditch a friend to go running after a piece of random dick, but not ok to fancy someone old enough to be your dad.

“Well, he didn’t take it.”

“I’ll bet he wanted to, though.” She nudges me in the arm. “He must like you, Laine. Cute little blonde thing like you. I bet he’s jerking off to the thought every five minutes. Dirty old man.” Her laugh cuts right through me. “Seriously, though,” she says, “you should come stay with me, not some random old guy.”

The thought fills me with dread. “I’m good,” I tell her. “I like it with Nick.”

“Daddy Nick, making you sandwiches and buying you dresses. Very cute.”

Daddy Nick. The thought has me burning up, and my heart keeps pounding and my mouth is all dry.

I barely register the fact she’s still talking.

“So, where do you sleep? In his room? Please tell me it’s not in his room…”

I shake my head. “In his daughter’s room.” I focus on a safer topic, tell her about Jane’s lovely things, and the writing on her wall, and how great it feels there.

Kelly Anne doesn’t look impressed, at all. Her eyes screw up and she looks at me like I’m some kind of crazy.

“You’re staying in his kid daughter’s room? With pink curtains and a mad hatter tea set?”

I shake my head. “It’s not his kid daughter’s room now. She’s all grown up. She doesn’t live there anymore.”

Kelly tips her head to the side, and she’s thinking. It makes me feel uneasy, and I’m glad class is starting soon.

“So… if she’s not his kid daughter… then she’s an adult now, right?”

I nod. “Yeah, I guess so. Probably moved away.”

“So… if she’s grown up… why is her room still like some kiddie shrine? I mean, where’s all her teenage shit? Surely she’d have like Backstreet Boys posters up, or some other crap like that. Maybe some makeup… some grown-up kid shit…”

“Maybe she liked it that way… the way it was…” My answer is lame, and it’s because I don’t have one. Because I haven’t even thought about it.

Haven’t thought about the fact Jane’s room is still like she’s five or six years old, even though she doesn’t live there anymore, hasn’t lived there for a long time.

“Maybe she lived with her mother…” I ponder aloud. “Maybe she didn’t live in there… not all the time…”

“Still,” Kelly Anne says. “She’d still have some grown-up shit, Laine. I mean, who wants a fairy castle when they’re at high school?”

Me, I think, but I daren’t say it.

“I’ll ask him,” I tell her. “About Jane. I’m sure maybe there’s another room she had or something. Or maybe she didn’t live there…”

Kelly Anne pulls a spooky face, waggles her fingers like a ghost. “Or maybe she didn’t exist… oooooooh… maybe he’s like the guy from Psycho and you’ll find his dead mother in his cellar…”

That thought really does make me laugh. “You’re an idiot,” I tell her. “You really have been watching too much CSI.”

I brush past her to make my way to class, and she follows, shrugs at me. “Tell me that when you realise he’s some freaky pervert and you’re running barefoot to my house as he chases you with his imaginary daughter’s dildo or something.”

“You’re gross,” I tell her, but I’m grinning.

“No,” she says. “You’re gross. I’m not the dirty little bitch with a creepy daddy fetish.”

I laugh at her words but I’m not really sure what she means. I mean, she doesn’t know Nick. Doesn’t know how he saved me, how he cares for me. Doesn’t know how safe I feel when I’m with him.

“He’d make a really good daddy,” I say.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Tell him that while he takes your V card, Laine. That’ll really get him off. Dirty old pervert.”

I don’t reply. I can’t reply. In my mind, I’m sitting on his lap, my arms around his neck as he…

“Laine?”

I snap back to reality, and the heat in my face betrays me.

“I’m worried about you,” she says.

But I’m not worried at all.