Sadie (18+)

Chapter 21

Tonight would probably be the last snowstorm until next winter. It wasn't uncommon in March, but it would certainly be the heaviest snowfall, as a fluffy inch had already layered outside in less than an hour.

I hadn't slept over at Julia's or even seen Vincent since the incident, and it would have stayed that way had it not looked like a shaken snow globe outside.

"I think I'm stuck here," I said to Julia as I peered out of her bedroom window. "Do you care?"

Julia shut her laptop and looked at me, the pencil wedged behind her ear falling onto the bed. "I know it's only been a week, but I've missed you. It's been horrible here, so no, of course I don't mind. I'd never mind."

I sat next to her on the bed. "It's still that bad?"

She chewed on her lower lip. "Not bad, just different. Quiet. And they're never quiet. I know something's off."

I pressed my hand against her back. "I'm sorry, Jules. I'm sure they'll figure it out." I tried to swallow down the guilt, but it happily gnawed away at my sanity.

"At least things are a little better with your mom, right?"

I shrugged. "I guess."

She got up excitedly. "Look at it this way. We'll both be hearing from Oakwood within the next few days, and when we get in, we can start dorm shopping!"

"When we get in?" I repeated.

"Well, duh," she replied. "We can't afford to think any other way. We're going to be living together for four years. We can leave this shit behind, Sadie."

"That seems so far away," I said glumly. "We wouldn't move in until late August, if that. It's only March."

Julia playfully slapped my arm. "Cheer up, Debby Downer."

I couldn't cheer up, nor could I entertain the idea of college right now. I was in love with her dad, and that alone had taken up every bit of space in my head. How could I possibly get over him when he was all I could think about?

I set up for bed that night in the guest room which had sort of become my designated bedroom. I didn't mind sleeping with Julia, but she thrashed around in her sleep a lot, and sometimes I didn't feel like getting elbowed out of a dream.

On my way to the bathroom, I bumped into Tony who I'd sworn was away at school, shirtless with gray sweatpants and a head full of curly hair.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him as he squeezed from a nearly empty bottle of toothpaste onto his brush. I hovered in the doorway, uncomfortable.

He looked at me through the mirror. "I could ask you the same thing."

I chuckled lightly. "True. Sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" he asked, then motioned for me to join him. "You can come in. I'm just finishing up."

I awkwardly maneuvered over to him, then laughed at the twisted mess of the toothpaste bottle. "You're supposed to fold it to get the last of it out, not crumple it like a maniac."

"Nah, this works fine," he said, although he only had a drop on his brush. "It's just empty."

"Let me have it," I said, pulling it from his grasp. I straightened it out, flattened it against the counter, then neatly folded it, a gush of minty toothpaste now oozing from the tip. "See?"

He whistled. "Look at you."

I shoved him. "Shut up, Tony."

"I'm just here for the weekend," he said after a beat. "I just needed to grab a few things. I'm worried about my parents, though. They seem weird."

Again, the guilt rushed back up like bile. "I hope they work it out."

He put his toothbrush down, a strange, unfamiliar look on his face. "Sadie, I—"

"I don't wanna talk about it," I said, cutting him off. "It shouldn't have happened. We don't need to rehash, okay?"

"What if I want to?"

My cheeks immediately filled with heat, so much that I was sure my actual temperature was rising. "What?"

"I think you're hot," he said casually, shrugging. "Can we try again?"

Tony had always been a charmer, so it didn't come as a surprise that he admitted it with such confidence, and so casually as if he were telling me what kind of ice cream he liked.

I was so appalled that it took me a minute to regain my composure. Perhaps I hadn't considered the repercussions of my actions, that I honestly thought I could swipe what happened between Tony and I under the rug and it would be forgotten. Stupid, stupid. I gave him a taste and he hung onto it.

The most horrifying part of it all, I realized, was that I wanted to please him, and that it was too easy to push down what my reasonings for being destructive were. It didn't matter. It was all of the above.

What the fuck had I done to this family?

I walked over to the bathroom door and peered out into the hallway, checking for signs of Julia. Her bedroom door was closed; she had most definitely fallen asleep.

I shut the bathroom door and walked over to Tony, then got down on my knees and hooked a finger into the waistband of his sweatpants. I looked up at him for reassurance.

"Is this what you want?" I asked, ignoring the hardening length beneath the gray fabric. He nodded, his jaw clenching in response to our proximity. I liked when men looked like this, the anticipation and excitement written all over their face.

I pulled his pants down, then placed each hand on his muscular thighs. His length sprung out and nearly hit me in the face.

"Jesus Christ," I mumbled, which earned a laugh that quickly turned to a moan when I took all of him into my mouth, a gasp then sounding in an otherwise quiet bathroom.

And as I sucked and gagged and dragged my tongue across every inch of his penis, my question kept repeating in my head, over and over and over.

Is this what you want?

I pretended it was Vincent in my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut and sucking with a fervor and purpose, my face wet with my own saliva, the desperation to please evident in my demeanor. His hands were positioned behind the counter, his knuckles red from his powerful grip as though he would combust if not holding onto something.

"Keep going," he panted, a hand finding the back of my head and pushing, pushing until I gagged and a steamy load filled my mouth.

Is this what you want?

Tony pulled his pants back up soon after, brushed his teeth, thanked me, and left, his bedroom door shutting quietly behind him. He'd hardly noticed me standing there, cum dripping down my chin, my hair knotted and damp.

I reminded myself that this was typical—my ex-boyfriend, who I hadn't thought about in quite some time, acted similarly. This brought some unpleasant memories back up.

I brushed my teeth and gargled with mouthwash, then shoved my hair into a slightly neater ponytail before making my way downstairs, seeking comfort in the form of alcohol.

I wasn't sure how late it was, but it was safe to assume Vincent and Gina had been asleep for a while now. Their bedroom wasn't too far from the office, but that's where it was hidden, and I had no choice but to tiptoe my way over there to find it.

Unfortunately, I'd forgotten Vincent dealt with insomnia.