We’re back at the house that night and I can’t help but think about how different this already is having her here. When Willa was our assistant, she didn’t spend a whole lot of time at the house when we were home. She traveled with us, but the house, I think Willa stayed clear of it in fear of knowing what we did here at night. Probably why she’s never lived with us.
With Scarlet around, I find myself thinking less and less about how the last seven months have been the worst in my life to this, sitting around a table outside at dinner, laughing with a girl I just met. I don’t do this sort of thing, have girls around me just for the company. They don’t want that from me. They want to say they’ve “been” with me, and then they’re onto the next guy.
I’ve grown accustomed to it and accepted it. I actually prefer it that way. You saw what happened with Rhya.
Camden shows up about the time the smoke from the barbecue fills the backyard. I swear that kid smells food and comes running next door.
Roan brings out a plate of hot dogs and hamburgers and sets them on the table in front of us. It’s me, Scarlet, Tiller, Camden, three other girls I’ve never seen before, and Auden. There are people in the pool too, ones I’ve also never seen, and Taco, he’s in the kitchen with Roan cooking.
Word to the wise. Don’t eat anything Taco gives you. His cooking skills are about as good as Scarlet’s driving skills.
Camden looks at Scarlet, tipping up his S3 hat we gave him the other day. “Who are you?”
Scarlet smiles and reaches for his hand, her hair whipping me in the face. “I’m Scarlet.”
Camden’s cheeks brighten and he smiles slyly. “Are you Shade’s girlfriend?”
I’m just about to answer for her, when she says, “No way. I’m their personal assistant.”
I can tell by the look on Camden’s face, he likes Scarlet already. Reaching forward, I smack the bill of his hat. “Don’t even think about it, Cam-man.”
That’s right. I’m letting a ten-year-old know Scarlet’s taken. No sense in confusing him.
Scarlet giggles and takes her seat again while Camden’s cheeks flush an even brighter shade of red. We all laugh, aside from Tiller who’s staring at the plate of food.
“I don’t think I can eat a dick-shaped food.” Tiller stares at the hot dog then the girl on his lap. “I’ll have a pussy instead.”
“What’s pussy?” Camden asks, reaching for the mustard and his own hot dog.
“It’s slang for a girl’s vagina,” I tell him truthfully. No sense in confusing the kid.
Scarlet snorts and whispers, “I can’t believe you just said that to him. How old is he?”
“I’m ten, but I’ll be eleven in a few months.”
Believe me, he’s heard worse. Remember? He witnessed live sex here once. Thank you, Tiller.
While Scarlet’s fixing herself a hot dog, I can’t help but notice the chick Tiller has with him tonight doesn’t appear to like Scarlet very much. Probably because she keeps glaring at her for sitting next to Tiller and talking to him. I want to say “hey, listen, I don’t like it either, but if you keep glaring at her, I might hit you.”
Truthfully, I’d never hit a girl and fuck, when did I get so possessive over a girl I met a week ago?
All those thoughts are lost momentarily because look who’s eating a hot dog?
Scarlet.
While Tiller may not want dick-shaped food, Scarlet seems to thoroughly enjoy it, but I tend to think this might possibly be paybacks for the incident earlier with Candi. Not only does she open her mouth wide enough to let’s say, fit a cock in there, she fucking smiles at me the entire time. Ordinarily biting down on it wouldn’t be my thing, and I’d certainly cringe thinking about my dick being bit, but it’s the way her lips wrap around it that gets me hard as a fucking rock.
I glance at Tiller and swallow, forcefully. He has the same expression as me, and I guarantee she’s enticing the same reaction from him.
Don’t believe me?
Just wait.
He bumps Scarlet with his elbow. “I got a real cock you can suck on. Or choke on. Either’s sexy.”
“Cock is like a chicken, right?” Camden asks curiously.
“Yes, it is.” Scarlet answers, before we can corrupt him any further.
His brow furrows. “Why would she suck on a chicken?”
I know what you’re thinking, you guys are awful, and this is not something a ten-year-old should be hearing. You’re right, but in my defense, we didn’t invite him over here. He follows the cool people. I can’t blame the kid, and I heard way worse at ten.
“It’s hot. I can’t take this.” Scarlet says, yanking at her shirt and attempting to fan herself when she’s finished with the hot dog. “I’m a northwest girl!”
She’s sweating? How does she think I feel after watching her eat a hot dog?
“You can take your clothes off,” I suggest, earning me a laugh from Tiller but a glare from the ho on his lap who’s twirling her black hair around her finger and popping her gum.
What’s her deal? I also can’t stand it when chicks pop their gum. Absolutely hate it.
“They won’t come off.” Scarlet reaches for her plate, then her water bottle next to her. “They’re stuck to me.”
I lean over to her, whispering, “Oh, I can manage. I’m determined.”
She flips my sunglasses up to see my eyes, smiling. “Nah, I’m going to bed.”
What the fuck? “Can I come too?”
“Nope.”
“C’mon. Don’t be a pussy.”
Scarlet doesn’t like being called a pussy. From what I can gather, it pisses her off more than anything. This is why she slaps me in the face with a hot dog on the table.
There’s only one way I’m going to get Scarlet to relax enough to at least give me a chance. I mean fuck, I’d settle for a fucking hand job from her at this point as long as she lets me suck on those nipple rings of hers.
We stare at each other. My eyes drop to the metal loops poking through her white shirt. “We’re having a party,” I announce, throwing the hot dog at her face.
It smacks her cheek and falls into her lap. I’m assuming she doesn’t want to waste it, or she wants to turn me on or scare the shit out of me, but she takes a rather large bite of the hot dog. “No.” She covers her mouth, chewing slowly. “That sounds like a bad idea.”
Tiller throws his arm around her and shows her his cast on his left arm. He broke it yesterday jumping off the roof of the house on a skateboard. He was attempting to land on the roof of the guest house some thirty feet away and missed. “We have to celebrate me not dying. Again.”
She pushes his arm off. “That seems to be a daily occurrence with you.” Scarlet looks to Roan who’s seated next to me at the table. The one she assumes is moral. It’s funny she thinks this because she doesn’t know him. And she doesn’t know about the time we were in Peru and found him a week later in Machu Picchu. I’m not going to go in to detail, but that’s where his aversion to clothes came from. I’m pretty sure he was high on something, but he said the “gods” told him clothing was a necessity we didn’t need in life and we should all be free.
This coming from a guy who started a clothing line a year ago. We just can’t get him to wear the clothes we design.
“It’ll be fine,” I tell Scarlet, winking at her. I’m completely full of shit, but she doesn’t need to know this. I point to Camden. “You gotta go, dude.”
He sighs, dejected, but stands and takes his hamburger with him. “Man, this sucks.”