"I feel eyes all over me from every angle, but I know that at least one pair of them belongs to the tatted giant in the kitchen. Why not give him a show?
He can look all he wants but he can never touch. This is one cookie that won't ever give him th...
"I'm not fucking scared of Creed," I snap. "I don't need a fucking bodyguard."
"I know, I just thought maybe for moral support..." Sammy says sheepishly.
I feel bad. I've been snippier than usual this past week. I'm still not getting much sleep and I'm drinking a little bit heavier than I used to. I seek the oblivion that only a healthy buzz can give me. But that results in more headaches throughout the day.
Furthermore, I'm not eating as much. Food reminds me of Cal. He was always fussing about it- wanting me to eat "substantial" meals, protesting my breakfast choices, insisting I learn how to cook... That fucker stole the joy right out of one of my favorite things and I can rarely bring myself to eat, even though I deliberately surrounded myself with all my favorite junk to try to tempt myself. So I'm hangry.
Plus I'm still hurting and that really fucking pisses me off.
"I'm sorry," I sigh. "If you want to come I'm not going to stop you."
In spite of the fact that Creed told me that I'd only need to go downstairs once or twice a month, he texted me yesterday to tell me that he'd need to see me down there tonight, exactly one week since the last time I was down there. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the shit I pulled on Saturday.
I regret nothing.
"Yeah, I'll just go down there and stay in the shadows..." Sammy says, sounding relieved.
I shrug and return to my makeup. Having been down there before, I know that it's pretty dim so contouring is possible without looking too over-the-top. Also, it's a more mature crowd and I'm freed from the shackles of trying to look like daddy's little angel. It's important that I look older than I usually do because I don't want to appear too vulnerable in this crowd.
I finish up with my makeup and grab the white sleeveless dress that I've chosen for tonight to head into the bathroom and change. I pin back the front of my hair that I've left twisted and wrapped all day in hopes of taming my curls a little and leave the rest to cascade down my back. I'm hyper aware that Cal will probably be down there tonight and I'm hoping to knock him on his ass, that fucking fuck.
Sammy's jaw drops when I come out. I think I'll probably succeed.
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