all american | lance tucker

ch. 21 • house arrest

The next few days were rough. I was on house arrest, Lance watching my every move. He barely even let me go to the bathroom on my own. He made me clean every single bottle out of my apartment, watch the kids the whole time, and I was trying to organize a meeting with Dean behind his back without him finding out. Which was near impossible, seeing as he was on my ass constantly. The reason I was doing so was because I was getting real fucking tired of Dean's texts, and I just wanted him to see Shay so he'd shut the hell up about it.

"Whatcha lookin at?" He leaned over me on the couch. I panicked and clicked out of my texts with Dean, shutting off my phone quickly. I turned around to look at him, hoping he hadn't noticed.
He had.

"What was that?" He smirked, getting close to my ear. "Porn?"

"What-" I pushed his head away, "No!"

"Yeah...whatever you say." He shrugged. "I actually came over to tell you something very important."

"And that is?" I rolled my eyes. This was one of the rare times where the kids were all playing together (with the twins getting older, they were becoming more independent) and me and Lance got a little time to ourselves. Note that it was never me getting time to myself, always me and Lance. That bitch never left me alone. This also seemed to be the time Lance used to let out all of his pent up sexual aggression that he had towards every moving object without the kids around. And he usually let it out on me. For example, right now.

"You have to come over here to see it." He said vaguely. I sighed.

"If you're not wearing any pants when I turn around, I'm not going to be happy with you." I said dryly. He shook his head.

"No, I promise I'm wearing pants. I was just going to tell you that we're out of yogurt."

"I just gave the kids yogurt this morning. There is a full container in there."

"No there isn't. I looked." He said pointedly. I turned around.

"If I go into that fridge and there's yogurt, you will not be seeing me naked for a long time." I snapped. He looked away.

"Yeah, I swear it's not there." He muttered, shrugging. I got up, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with me. I opened the fridge, immediately spotting the yogurt and pulling it out.

"Lance Harrison, I swear to god. Do you just look at the ceiling and decide there's nothing there?" I handed him the yogurt, only to watch him forcefully put it back in.

"I don't want it anymore." He mumbled, an angry look on his face. What a baby. I brought my hand to his check, his beard scratching my fingers.

"You're so cute, you know that?" I teased, grinning. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his face against my neck.

"Does that mean I still get to see you naked?" He inquired. I could tell he was smiling. I shook my head and backed up.

"Nope. Not even half naked." I let him wrap his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side and kissing the top of my head.

"Well then you're never seeing me naked either." He scoffed, pushing me off of him and walking back to the couch.

"Well I don't want to see you naked, dumbass."

"Well that's insulting." He rolled over the back of the couch, flopping onto it. I collected his collection of half empty glasses off the counter, pouring them out and setting them in the sink. He was constantly leaving them out, as if he seemed to forget every time he left a drink somewhere.

"Lance, it's getting close to your birthday, you know." I pointed out. January 7th.

"It's not even Christmas yet." He grumbled. "Don't talk about it."