The Player Returns?! (The Prostitute And The Player Sequel.)

It’s been six years since Jake’s death. 

I look around the space in my California home right by the shoreline like I’d always dreamt. I smile, my hands on my hips as my bangs are blown in my face from the small wind that came from the salty sea air through the double doors that you could enter the living room through. 

My hair was up in a pony tail; my plaid shirt was red and black checkered, my short shorts were keeping my legs nice and tanned from the L.A sun. I basked in it as I took the duct tape off of another box, wiping the sweat from my forehead. The distant sound of waves crashing calmed me. 

“Mommy, mommy, the ocean is so pretty!” Sophia smiles and twirls around in her beautiful white sun dress, grabbing my hand as I twirl her around and around like a princess. 

The familiar voice startles me. “You were supposed to wait for me!” He was out of breath. He hadn’t really changed a bit. He got taller and had black spiky hair like before, but his eyes had been through a lot. Kyle. “Hey, Allie, you’re still not done?” He laughs, tickling my daughter.

I shook my head, unwrapping the glass dishes. “Maybe if I had a little help I would be.” I accuse, kissing Sophia’s cheek. 

“Kyle says that when you two get married, he wants the wedding to be on the beach!” She told me in a sing song voice. 

I roll my eyes as she runs upstairs to her new room. “What have I told you about giving her the message that we might get together?” I ask him, pointing towards him with a stern expression. 

“She’s six, Allie. I doubt she’ll care.” He mumbled. 

I put my hands on my hips again. “If you don’t start helping me unpack I’m going to murder you with these knives.” I tease, setting them on the coffee table. 

After Jake’s death, his dad kind of knew we had a thing going on because Jake had asked for his father’s help when picking out a wedding ring for me. Too bad the wedding never got to happen. 

“Okay okay. Where do you want these blankets?” He asked, cocking one eyebrow. 

I shrug. “Set them on the couch for now and I’ll make the beds later on.” I sigh, sitting on the couch, running a hand through my bangs which were hanging out of the pony tail. 

“You miss him.” Kyle guessed. 

I leaned against his shoulder as he comforted me. “So much.” A few tears run down my cheeks, but after that I let them subside. This was no time for crying; especially after we were just starting to move in. 

“Damn it, Allie! You’ve got to move on or nothing else is going to happen in you’re life. Jake’s dead.” I stare up at Kyle in disbelief as he gets up off the couch and stares back at me, amazement in his eyes. 

I can’t speak. “You’re an asshole! G-get out of my house!” I order, trying to stop the tears from falling like they wanted to so badly. Kyle didn’t hesitate. Only grabbed his jacket and went towards the exit of my new house.