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Van by Sawyer Bennett (12)

Chapter 12

Simone

I rummage through the fridge, needing something in my stomach before I go into work tonight. It’s a long eight hours to be smelling delicious food and not tasting. We get a half-hour break to eat, but I’m squirreling away every penny I earn, so I’m not about to spend it on overpriced burgers at Lulu’s.

Sadly, there’s beer and more beer in the fridge. Not even a cold pizza.

With a sigh, I close the door and turn to the cabinets to search for an old box of Cheez-Its or something when my phone rings.

The song is “You Are My Sunshine,” which means it’s my mom calling. She sang that to me every night before bed when I was a kid.

My smile is big as I answer, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey sweetie,” she says in that voice that just warms me from head to toe knowing I have her unconditional love no matter how much of a fuck-up I am. “Checking in on you.”

“I’m good,” I tell her as I walk into the living room and plop down on the couch. “Leaving for work soon.”

“How’s it going?” she asks. She also thinks I work in a call center, and I do not like lying to her. It doesn’t cause me as much heartburn to lie to my brothers, but doing so to my mom weighs on me.

“It’s fine,” I say, and then quickly change the subject. “But I’ve got applications in at a bunch of places; my goal is to hold two jobs. Once I do that, I’ll be able to start sending you and Dad some money each month.”

She’s silent for a moment, and I know she’s warring with herself. I’m sure she’s still pissed at me for throwing away my education with so little thought. But she also wants me to be happy, and she’s proud of me for trying to make it right.

“Your father and I aren’t going broke,” she finally says. “Take a few more months and get settled. Put some money into savings for a rainy day, then you can start paying us back. Plus, you should get Lucas paid back for the car he bought you first.”

I smile, leaning my head back against the cushion. God, I love my mom. And my brother. All my brothers, and of course, my dad. Us Fourniers…well, we fucking rock.

“Listen, honey, I’m on my way out the door to meet a client, but are you sure you’re doing okay? You can always come home if you want.”

“I know, Mom,” I murmur, my eyes misting a little. I have to admit there is some appeal about going back home where I can be secure under my parents’ wings while I try to find myself.

But that would mean giving up Van right now, and I’m not ready to do that.

Even if he is being a stubborn shit who won’t admit that we’re exclusive.

So I tell my mom, “Maybe if I can’t get another job. But right now, I’m good.”

“Okay,” my mom says with a worried sigh. No matter I just told her I’m good, she’s going to worry. She’s a mom. She continues to prove that by asking, “How’s Lucas?”

My heart clenches as I think about the pain my brother is in. He’s gone from getting drunk to now just being very, very quiet and withdrawn. I can’t even bait him into yelling at me anymore.

“He’s not good,” I tell her truthfully. While I don’t want her to worry, he needs his mom worrying about him. “But I’m keeping a close eye on him.”

“I’ve been calling but he’s not returning my calls,” she says glumly. “But at least he’s texting me, so that’s something.”

“She’s going to be hard to get over,” I say, because the fact they created a baby together creates a bond that’s hard to replace when it’s broken.

“I hate for any of my kids to hurt,” my mom laments. “But I also know that Lucas will be okay. I know all my kids will be okay.”

“Awww,” I tease her to lighten the mood. “Is that your way of saying I’m forgiven for dropping out of school?”

“You’re not forgiven until you finish your degree or pay me and your father back every dime you wasted,” she replies tartly.

I laugh and promise her, “I know. And you have my word I’ll make it right somehow.”

“I know you will, baby,” she practically coos at me, and I withhold my snicker. “I love you, and your dad told me to tell you that he thinks you’re all right for a wayward kid.”

“I’m twenty-two,” I point out.

“You dropped out of school without telling us,” she replies smoothly. “That puts you in kid territory.”

“Whatever,” I mutter, like a freaking thirteen-year-old.

To this, my mom giggles. “Bye, honey.”

“Bye,” I murmur, and when I disconnect, a painful longing for home hits me so hard it steals my breath.

God, it was so stupid of me to drop out. Maybe I should go back and just go to med school. I know I can do it, that’s not an issue. I’m clearly the smartest of all the Fournier kids, and I have no doubt I’d be a successful doctor.

With a growl of frustration, I toss my phone onto the couch beside me and stare at the ceiling. Lucas is at the gym, and I have no clue where Van is.

Not that I care.

Not until I get exclusivity.

Yesterday morning in the garden shed I rocked his world good. And when I rocked his world, it rocked my own. Damn, but I loved all the dirty things he promised me, and that night, I was looking forward to him delivering them.

But it wasn’t in the cards. Because not only didn’t he call or text me with promises that I’d be the only one in his bed, he went out with Lucas.

And I wasn’t invited. My night off, and I was stuck at home by myself.

I stewed for a few hours, and then I couldn’t stand it anymore. I shot Van a text.

Where are you and Lucas partying tonight?

He didn’t answer me right away, but when he did, I could hear the smirk in his words. None of your business.

That chafed.

So I did what any girl who wanted to gain the upper hand would do. I pulled out my vibrator and took a lewd picture of me using it right there on the couch. I texted it to him with the words, This is what I’m doing.

I expected him to either A) ignore me, or B) curse at me for turning him on.

Instead, he shocked the shit out of me when he texted back, Get yourself off with that thing and send me a picture of your face as you’re coming.

Oh wow, did my panties get wet.

And this wasn’t technically me giving in on the exclusivity promise I was requiring, so I did exactly as he commanded. It wasn’t easy either, but I managed, and the photo was pretty hot.

In fact, his exact words back to me were, That’s fucking hot. I want to use that on you.

God he’s dirty, and I love it. But I was going to stand my ground. Not until you promise me I’m the only one you’re fucking.

His response was disheartening. I’m turning my phone off.

Asshole.

When he and Lucas came home that night at a little after 1 A.M., I was lying on the couch watching a movie. I was tired as hell and should have been using the time to catch up on my sleep, but I just couldn’t. I needed to see Van’s face and whether or not he still wanted me. He was playing it too close to the vest for my peace of mind.

Both Lucas and Van appeared sober. But I didn’t miss the subtle but clear shake of Van’s head when he shot me a quick glance.

I didn’t know what it meant.

Was he saying that he was never going to give me exclusivity, which if that was the case…fuck. Once I draw a line in the sand, I don’t back down from it, so we might officially be over before we even get going.

Or did he mean that there would be no sex in his room tonight because Lucas was sober and the risk was too great?

But even if he meant the latter, he’s assuming I’ll let him have me without the promise I need.

Ugh, it was so frustrating.

What was even more frustrating was that Van went to his room and Lucas stayed out on the couch with me to watch the movie. I thought he’d never get tired and go to bed, but when he did, I grabbed my phone and shot Van a text.

So are you going to clue me on what that shake of your head meant?

I drummed my fingertips on my thighs as I waited for him to respond.

And I waited.

And I waited.

And I waited.

I tried again. Are you asleep?

Nothing.

“Fuck,” I growled as I pushed up off the couch, having every intention of barging—well, tiptoeing quietly—into his room.

When I reached his door, my hand carefully wrapped around the knob and I gritted my teeth, knowing his door was going to squeak. But it was a risk I was going to have to take.

I tried to turn the knob, but it did nothing.

Didn’t budge a fucking inch.

I twisted the other way, and it held firm.

The fucker had put a lock on his door.

I’d stormed back to the couch, and when I got there, Van had texted me. Not in this room again while Lucas is here. The lock is because you don’t know how to take no for an answer, brat.

Gnashing my teeth with frustration, I fired a hot text back to him. There is no “again” unless you promise me exclusive rights to your cock.

His reply was instantaneous and it actually made me smile. We’ll see. Now go to sleep.

Oddly, despite the fact that Van had me completely off-kilter, mad, and horny on top, I slept like a baby last night. Because while he hasn’t given me his oath yet, he’s not ruled it out yet.

I slept well because I bet on myself to win this one.

No way Van is giving up what I can give him.

Sighing with boredom, I look at my watch and decide I don’t have time to do much of anything before I have to leave for work. So I go back to staring at the ceiling.

I’ve once again been left at the house all day by myself, both Van and Lucas gone when I woke up. Lucas had left a note that he was driving to the beach for the day “to reflect,” and Van, of course, didn’t leave me anything.

The chime of a text message has me scrambling for my phone again, and my heart trips over itself as I see Van’s name—which isn’t really Van’s name. In order to protect him from any potentially snooping eyes, I’d named him Tyrion Lannister in my contacts. Not that he had anything in common with the wee man, but he’s my favorite Game of Thrones character, so he got the honors.

Tapping on his message, I lean forward on the couch with the excitement of a girl who just got asked to prom.

The message floored me. Marriott Hotel on Creedmoor Road. Room 3499. I’m waiting.

Oh shit.

Oh wow…shit.

The thought of Van and me in a hotel room with nothing restraining our abandon has me almost ready to fly out the door.

But first things first. I can’t. I have to work.

He’s not deterred. Bossy alpha man. Call in sick. You won’t regret it.

Of course I won’t regret it, I think with an eye roll. The guy has a magic cock and tongue and hands and…okay, I’ll call in sick.

But more important. I need your promise.

Do you really? He writes back.

Yes.

It takes a moment for him to respond, but when he does, it’s lengthy and discouraging. You know I could cheat on you at any time. Any away game. Anytime I go to the gym. Fuck, I could hook up with someone in the middle of the day if I wanted to, and you’d never know.

But you won’t if you promise me, I text back with surety.

Another long pause, and I fret with what he’s going to say.

But then I smile when it comes. I promise.

I’m on my way. Be there in twenty minutes.

I push up off the couch and head to the kitchen to grab my purse. My phone chimes and I smile even bigger when I see Van’s reply.

Good girl. Bring your vibrator.

Oh damn.

Just damn, damn, damn, this is going to be good.