A/N: You have to check out the awesome rendition of Weston's second grade drawing. It's so cute. >>> Thanks Jeii!!!
“No. Not happening.” Weston starts to close the door to the room, once he realizes that I’m the guest of topic. “Have a good night.”
His dad sticks his foot in the door. “It wasn’t an option. I don’t understand what the problem is. I’m telling you to let a girl stay in your room.”
“This is different. It’s… Addelyn.” He grimaces a bit as he says it, and I narrow my eyes.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
Jonathan, before his son can answer, bangs his fist on the partially opened door. “Weston, I’m not fighting with you. She’s sleeping in your room tonight. And that’s final. Now, if you refuse to let Addelyn come in, I’ll go on to describe the lovely poem that went along with that picture you drew in the second grade. How did the beginning of that poem go? Roses are red. Violets are blue. I love my Adlin. And one day, she’ll love me too.”
I start to laugh, and Weston snatches open his door, grabbing my arm, and pulling me inside. His father puts a smirk on his face that is scarily similar to Weston’s. “Smart choice. And if I find out that she slept on the couch, I’ll have your head tomorrow.”
Weston nods, before slamming the door in his father’s face, removing his grip from mine. He waits until he hears footsteps in the opposite direction, before staring straight at me. “You’re not staying in here.”
To be honest, I really didn’t want to. But the fact that it had him so irate tempted me to stay anyways. So I drop my duffel bag near the door, before walking around the room, flopping down on his bed. “I don’t know. This is kind of comfortable.”
“So is the doghouse outside. I can get you towel and a bone and you’ll be set for the night.” He says. “Now get off my bed. You’re contaminating my sheets.”
I wrap myself entirely in the sheets, just to make him angrier. They smell like him, which I must admit isn’t a bad smell. It’s citrus-y, almost. “What are these sheets? Egyptian cotton? They’re nice.”
“Too bad, because you’re not sleeping there.” He stands in front of me.
I look around. There’s not much other furniture in the room, other than a small chair facing a desk. “Then where?”
He grabs my ankles, sliding me down off the bed and onto the hardwood floor below. It doesn’t hurt, but the hit most certainly wakes me up. He puts on a fake smile. “Welcome to your new bed.”
“I am not sleeping on the floor, Weston.”
“You sleep where I tell you to sleep. This is my room, remember?”
“And I’m you’re guest. So, I should get the bed.” I state.
“You’re my dad’s guest. Not mine. I’ve already given you your choices. Floor or doghouse. You take your pick.” He replies.
He looks serious, so I decide to give the topic a rest for a bit. It’s only nine. I have more than enough time to convince him to give me the bed later. “Just tell me where I can take a shower.”
He points towards the door in front of the bed. The idea of showering in a bathroom that’s so close to Weston does not appeal to me one bit. Just the fact that it’s Weston’s bathroom scares me to no end. He notices my uneasiness. “Problem?”
YOU ARE READING
Strictly Business
Teen Fiction"It's so simple," I say. "All we have to do is pretend we're in love with each other. You know, hold hands, share Eskimo kisses and all that crap. And at the same time, we'll destroy Jackson and Kristina's relationship. Make them think that thei...
