My heart sings in excitement as I prepare dinner.

He’d be home soon.

I open the oven and check the tenderness of the meat. Fifteen minutes more and it would be perfect. This is Ry’s favorite. Ribs.

I put the mashed potato in a glass bowl and set it on the dining table.

I smile at my fancy arrangement. It’s Hawaiian-inspired, complete with little colorful parasols. I have flowers, too.

I love watching home decorating shows. I got a lot of tips for the apartment. Ryland was appreciative of my efforts and I glowed under his praises. I love taking care of him and his place. I want to make every meal special for him. I want him to come home after a long day’s work and be able to relax in a clean, fresh-smelling apartment with a hot meal waiting for him.

You’re acting as his wife.

Well…if only circumstances would lead us that way, I’d gladly be his wife. But I know he won’t be amenable to that. Not yet, anyway. He treats me as family. And there’s my father who’s Ry’s best friend. Things would be complicated and I don’t ever want to come between their friendship. My father loves Ry very much and vise versa.

Still, I’m praying that one day soon, circumstances would lead us there naturally, because I can’t reverse one fact. One truth.

I’m in love with Ryland Boyd. Madly, Deeply. Irrevocably.

He’s my first and only love. I’m not going to love another but him. I know this. I know myself. I’ve never been attracted to anybody the way he makes me feel. No boy in my school has ever made my heart skip a beat, my breath hitch, and my stomach flutter with the proverbial butterflies.

I’m not like my female classmates. I’m not into the usual teenage stuff like parties, makeup and fancy clothes. I like books and poetry. I dabble in a bit of art, particularly craft. I create things from scratch or from recycled materials, some of which I’d given Ry as gifts and are now hanging on his living room walls. He loves my artworks amateurish though they are.

Ryland is a good man. I know that in my heart. I feel it. My father loves him like his very own brother. I know he’d be the best husband and father one day. The woman he’d love and marry would be very lucky.

I hope to be that woman. And for as long as he’s unmarried, I’ll wait for the right time for us. I don’t know what I’d do if he gets married though. I’d probably die. Not literally, but inside. I don’t want to think that far yet, but then again, he’s not getting any younger. He’s thirty-five, ten years younger than my dad. Of course, he’d eventually marry.

I hope that when he decides to do so, he would have already seen me in a different light. No longer little Rizzy or Kitkat, but a woman he can love and be with for the rest of his life. I just have to make him see that gradually, that I’m the right woman for him. I don’t want to shock him or anything. I want it to happen between us naturally.

My heart starts to beat faster when I see the headlights of his truck from the bay window where I’ve been sitting at for close to an hour now, waiting for him to come home from work.

He parks in front of the apartment.

Hastily combing my long hair with my fingers and smoothing the front of my dress, I dash toward the door to open it.

He’s already standing there.

“Hi!” I greet him with a big smile, hoping I don’t give away my excitement too much. Just seeing him again makes me want to throw my arms around his neck and hug him tight. But that would be overkill. It’s not like I haven’t seen him in months. But that’s how I feel everyday after not seeing him for like 12 hours. I just miss him like crazy.

“Hey, Kitkat,” he smiles back, his hazel eyes warm. My heart melts and my knees feel rubbery. He’s so handsome, so tall and big and manly, and I don’t know how long I can keep my feelings for him a secret.

He raises his hand. I smile wider and squeal. “Oh! My favorite!” I grab the paper bag.

He chucks me under the chin. “Sweet tooth.”

“Thanks.” I bring the warm bag of donuts to my chest, wishing it was him I’m hugging.

He comes in and closes the door.

“I know you’re hungry.”

“Famished.”

“I cooked your favorite, too.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Surprise!”

“Can I take a quick shower before dinner? Had a really busy day at the shop. I don’t wanna bring my greasy, sweaty body to your kitchen, Miss OC.”

She rolls her eyes and walks ahead to the kitchen. “Okay. Don’t be long.”

I take off my shoes and put them inside the small cabinet near the door. I notice how extra clean and orderly my apartment has become since she came to live here. I’m not a slob but I’m mostly too busy at the shop to clean up. The girl is OC with cleanliness, something that amuses me. She taught me how to put my soiled socks where they belong.

A few days after she arrived, she’d commandeered my home. She gave me a list of things the apartment needed. Badly, she’d emphasized. Curtains, rugs, throw pillows, a lot of kitchen utensils. We went to Home Depot and bought everything she wanted. Then we went to the grocery and she proceeded to fill the fridge. She said she’d be cooking so no more restaurant meals for me.

“It’s a good thing what you eat doesn’t show in your body,” she’d remarked.

I suppose that was a compliment. I’m a carnivore and I don’t like sweets much. Long hours at the shop keep me in shape. I go to the gym once or sometimes twice a week, if the shop is not too busy, to lift weights and box. That’s all I need to maintain my weight. I’m not bulging and hulking like those narcissistic gym groupies but I’m toned, firm and hard where it matters.

I drop my phone and my keys on a console table in the hallway and take the stairs, my steps muffled by the carpet. I enter my room at the second floor. The bed has been made perfectly, with fresh sheets, too. The room smells of newly washed linen. Not my handiwork.

My heart swells with joy. I’m grateful for the things she does for me. She’s like her parents, caring and thoughtful. Jerry and Bethany raised her well, taught her good values.

My chest clenches at the thought of my best friend. I hope he’s really getting better, wherever he is. I want him to come home and take Rizzy as far away from here as possible, and yet I don’t want him to come home yet, for my own selfish reasons and for his well-being, too. I want Jerry to heal from the loss of Bethany.

I enter the walk-in-closet and remove my clothes, folding them and putting them in the laundry basket. Rizzy has invaded my closet too. She’s arranged everything neatly all the way to the bathroom.

I shake my head, careful not to make a mess as I pull out a towel from the neatly folded pile. I enter the bathroom.

Instead of a hot one, I take a cold shower to kill the heat of desire in my body. I’m still aroused and I don’t want to be sporting a boner when I go down to the kitchen.

Sighing harshly, I take down the shower head from the peg and aim it at my dick with the intention of cooling it down.

Big mistake.

The spray only stimulates my member further, and now I really have to get off.

Cussing under my breath, I drop the shower head and let it spray all over the cubicle. I squirt bath get into my hand and grab my shaft and stroke it.

I lean on the tiled wall with my free hand and close my eyes, her images immediately dominating my mind’s eye.

My Rizzy. My beautiful girl.

Her sweet, innocent lips are wrapped around my dick, sucking it…

Seated at the dining table, I patiently wait for him to come down from his bedroom.

I glance at the clock. Quick shower he said. What’s taking him long?

Just then his phone rings, the familiar ringtone breaking the silence.

I go to check it. Could be important.

I see my father’s name flashing.

I smile and take the call.

“Dad!”

“Hey, sweetie. How are you?”

“I’m good. I’ve missed you, Dad. How are you? Where are you? You okay?”

“Whoa. Easy. I’m good, sweetie. I’m still in Bali. Where’s Ry? This is his phone, right?”

“Yeah, he’s upstairs taking a shower.”

“I see. Well, I just called to check on you, guys. Everything okay there?”

“Yes, of course, Dad.”

“How’s your job at the drugstore?”

“My employer is the coolest. His daughter is my BFF now. All’s good. I’m having the best summer here, Dad. The only thing missing here is you.”

“Well…I might stay here longer, sweetie. Is that okay? Can you handle another month without me?”

I sigh. “I’m gonna miss you but I’ll be fine, Dad. Uncle Ry is here.”

“Yeah, I know he’d take care of you, sweetie. Be good to him, okay?”

“Of course, I am. Always.”

“All right, I’ll call again later. Tell him I said hi.”

“Okay, Dad. Take care, okay?”

“I will. Bye for now, sweetie.”

“Bye.”

I set the phone back on the table and glance up the stairs. What the heck is taking him so long? The food’s getting cold.

I bounce up the stairs to his bedroom. Door’s ajar. I poke my head in. “Food’s ready!”

The room’s empty.

I hear the sound of running water. The door to the walk-in-closet is open.

I walk toward it and stop just at the jamb. I’m about to holler “food is ready” again when I hear him make a sound.

A guttural, animal sound. A strange sound as though he’s hurt. And yet I know he isn’t.

My heart suddenly kicks against my rib cage.

He makes another sound, almost muffled by the whizzing of the running water, but I hear it. More intense. Instinctively I know what it is, what he’s doing in there. I’m not naive. I’ve seen videos on the internet.

I should turn around and leave him to his privacy. That’s what a good girl would do. But a huge part of me is mightily curious. Bad-girl curious. I want to see exactly what he’s doing.

I’m so shameless! I should be shot! But I move slowly into the walk-in closet until I reach the small archway that leads to the bathroom.

The shower door is clear glass. He’s standing in profile. Rivulets of water run down on the glass but they’re not enough to conceal the view inside.

My breath is almost hitching in my throat that seems to have closed up. I have difficulty breathing.

Oh God, I should not be looking at this. This is wrong.

But I look. I look my fill.

His hand is moving furiously at his middle. He’s touching himself. Pleasuring himself.

He’s masturbating.

His breathing is labored and I can hear him clearly now as he chases his breath, harsh puffing and huffing that seem to punctuate every movement of his hand around his cock.

His big, long, thick cock.

My body reacts. I feel myself swell and tingle between my legs. Then I’m kind of gushing down there, too. It’s a sudden response to what I’m seeing. My skin seems to tighten around my entire body, my pores opening to emit steam. My nipples are twin sensitive peaks poking against my lace bra.

My pussy throbs, the center of it, the innermost parts of my belly, my entire body.

His hand is now a blur in rapid movement and then he lets out a tortured, drawn out moan as his his entire body seems to stiffen, his neck arching as he throws his head back.

I watch as whitish fluid spurts from the tip of him in rapid succession.

I’m hypnotized by it.

My own juices flow freely between my legs. I can feel it as though it’s matching what’s happening to him.

He leans on the wall as though his strength has deserted him, breathing hard.

I’m glued to my feet, unable to move, my mind blown away by what I’ve just witnessed.

He bends to pick something up from the floor.

My wits return. I find the strength to turn around and flee the room.

I crash on the hamper on my way out, but I don’t look back.

Oh God, I hope he didn’t hear that!

She saw me, I know it. She saw what I was doing.

I don’t even want to ask what she was doing in my room. I should have locked the fucking door.

Fuck!

I didn’t even know I’d be jacking off in the damn bathroom. It just happened. I couldn’t help myself.

And now…

Now I have this situation that I don’t know how to handle.

Rizzy saw me jacking off.

Oh my fucking God! Just thinking about it makes me want to shoot myself in the head.

I try to calm myself. Use reason.

Okay, she’s old enough to understand these things. A man’s normal needs.

Your need to get off on lewd thoughts of her, you mean?

I curse again.

If I could undo what she’d seen I would, but the damage has been done.

I have to talk to her about it, explain to her that what she saw shouldn’t change anything between us.

How, exactly? When all you can think about is putting your dick in her virgin pussy?

I scrub my body angrily. I feel like a sick fuck for real, corrupting a young innocent girl’s mind. Before, everything was all in my mind, a fantasy. However now, there was an interaction between us, though I was unaware of it. But that’s not an excuse. It happened and it can’t be undone.

God, why me? Why is this happening to me? I want my old life back. I want her out of my life.

That’s a lie. I don’t want her out of my life. I want to be in her life, in her body, in her mind, in her heart. But I know it’s a hopeless situation. Not with Jerry between us. Jerry couldn’t possibly handle my betrayal, a new heartache after Bethany’s death. And I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I betrayed my best friend, destroyed his daughter. My love for Jerry and Rizzy is far bigger than my lust.

Family comes first.

Rizzy and I need to talk. I hope to God I can find the right words to explain to her that seeing her uncle’s dick doesn’t mean a thing. It’s just one of those silly things.

Fuck!

Okay, okay, don’t panic. Act normal. Like nothing happened. You didn’t see anything.

This is what I tell myself as I fidget at the dining table. I want to hide in my room, but that would be aggravating things. He’d think it’s a big deal to me, what I saw, that I find it wrong. I don’t want him to feel guilty, or that he owes me any explanation. It was me who went to his room, his private space. It’s my fault I witnessed what he was doing. No, it was my choice to witness it.

But Oh God, this is going to be mightily awkward.

My body is still hyperventilating. My skin is a bit damp with sweat as I still tingle from the recent memories of watching Ry touch himself. I’ll probably never forget it for the rest of my life. It was…beautiful!

I cover my face with my hands. I’m such a perv. I purposely sneaked in to watch him.

What will I say to him?

“Hey, Uncle Rye, don’t worry, I’ve seen jerk-off video clips on the internet. No biggie.”

I groan in further mortification.

My panicking mind is interrupted by the sound of his heavy footsteps on the stairs.

I sit straight, willing my heart to calm down, my tummy to settle, my pulse to slow down.

I plaster a casual expression on my face.

He appears at the archway.

He’s freshly showered, looking even more gorgeous now that I’ve seen what he’s packing underneath his clothes.

Oh snap!

“Rizzy…” he begins, tentative.

By the guilty look on his face I immediately know he noticed me fleeing his room. That’s the last thing I want him to feel. Guilty. It wasn’t his fault at all. It was all mine.

I give him a big smile. “Hey come, sit.” I gesture at the chair across me.

He remains standing.

I open the casserole in the middle of the table. “Tadah!”

His eyes fasten on the ribs I’d painstakingly cooked to perfection for him. I know he loves meat and I’ve been cooking mostly veggies for us the past days. This is my treat for him.

“Come on, carnivore! Dig in!” I say in an exaggerated tone.

His guilty features melt into a smile.

“That looks delicious.”

Strange, but “delicious” sends a tingle down my spine. My mind is now full of him stroking his big cock—

“Come on, let’s eat.”

He sits on the chair. He surveys the table arrangement, his face soft now, appreciative.

He meets my eyes again. “Thank you.”

And as always, I can feel his sincerity. My heart swells with joy.

“You’re welcome.”

“Rizzy—“

“We can do that later, “ I cut him. “For now, we eat. Okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”