Half a Man at Best (Sequel to VALERIE)

Chapter Eighteen

~UNEDITED bc lazy af~

Copyright © zylgnagnaba 2014

“Sorry, I got you wet.” Valerie says as she pulls away just when I think we’re about to kiss. I take just one step back before I sand my hands over my now damp shirt.

I gulp and look at her once again, taking in how sexy and defined her wet body is.

“It’s okay,” I say and pull the bathrobe from my shoulder before lifting it up in front of her. “Come here.” I tell her and she nods, turning around so I can drape the robe over her half-naked body. I don’t want her to catch pneumonia, do I?

She slips both her hands to the large armholes before she clasps it together, tying the strings as she mumbles a ‘thank you’.

I shake my head a little and my eyes wander around the pool in an idle manner, just so I can avoid looking at her too much than normal.

“Can’t sleep?” She smiles at me.

“Yeah,” I say, nodding at her. “You?”

“Well, welcome to the club. Night-swimming is really good. Try it some time.” She quips and tightens her lips together in a little smile. My cheeky subconscious tells me that I would love to try night-swimming with her but for now, I won’t voice it out so I just nod at her suggestion. I don’t think we ever did that before.

She sits at the poolside, dipping her feet on the water and I take it upon myself to sit next to her.

“I was in California for the most times that I was away.” She starts casually and I have to take a matter of five seconds to think about what she’s going on about. Then I realize that she’s finally opening up to me and I don’t even have to ask her. I can see it in her eyes how she’s been waiting for this moment to finally say the things that she’s been wanting to let out of her system.

“California?”

“Yes,” She breathes and there’s something by the way she looks in front of herself that says whatever happened to her in that place wasn’t a fond memory for her.

I nod, urging her to continue because I really want to know what happened to her.

I’ve been doing a lot of nods lately, I realize.

“Well, first, I spent three weeks in Glasgow at my home.” She sucks in a sharp breath – there’s something ironic at the way she says home. “Three weeks of moping around. My parents were so worried about me, of course. One night mom came into my room, finding me curled up on the floor crying and she started telling me about the first day I came into their lives. And I never even thought that I would ever break my mom’s heart by asking about my real mother, the biological one. Just out of curiosity, I wanted to find her.”

I keep listening, ignoring the nagging thoughts about this story leading to something probably worse than I’ve expected.

“She refused to tell me, at first,” She continues as she looks down at her reflection on the water and glancing at me every so often. “But then she eventually told me her name and where I could possibly find her. So I flew to San Francisco, bearing bits of information about my real mom. It took me barely a week to find her finally. Her name’s Amanda Mayer and she is only thirty-six years old.”

I widen my eyes at that.

“She had me when she was only fifteen.” Her lips are curled up to a smile but her eyes are frowning – if that’s even possible. “I don’t exactly look like her. We just have similar hair colour. Hers is just a bit darker shade. She’s beautiful.” She shrugs, smiling to herself. And I have no doubt that her real mother is indeed beautiful. Where could she possibly take her beauty from?