Good Girl (Playroom) (46 page)

“I don’t know, Dad, I think Auntie Isis is what
Willow needs,” Kieren teases. Out of everything, that hurt me. Kieren is mad at me. Sure, I was baiting him. But dammit, he’s being a traitor. Can’t I have one friend that is just about Willow. I know the world doesn’t revolve around me, but I can see it in his eyes. He’s my best friend, but he wants more with Essie. I don’t have that with anyone. Devon fucked it all up, and Auggie thinks he wants me like that, but he wants to parent me even more. I don’t want another father, and I don’t want another best friend that picks Essie over me.

“Excuse me,” mumbles
out as I stand from the table. I don’t know where to go. I can’t leave. I made a promise that I’d stay for dinner. I take a deep breath and walk towards the adjoining kitchen.

“Spanky,” Kieren
sadly sighs and starts to stand. I hold up a hand to halt him as I walk away.

I feel Essie’s
guilty, sad gaze as I hand wash the dishes. “Why are you doing that?” Essie curiously asks, but I can tell it isn’t what she wants to talk about.

I keep my back to
her and say, “We’re guests, but they were kind enough to feed us. We should help out. Plus, the Masons work very hard. Today has been a trying day. I’m giving them a break.”

“You do
n’t sound like you anymore,” Essie whispers. She takes the dish from my hand, so she can dry it.

“Is that a bad thing or a good thing?” I ask in an emotionless voice.

Essie stares at me for a moment. Her blue eyes are eating the sight of me being so close. “I think it’s good,” she decides and nods her head. “You would have used a butter knife on me before. I’d prefer to live,” she gives a girlish giggle.

“Well, I’ve went through a lot since my eighteen birthday. The nineteenth is rapidly approaching. I don’t think I can live through another year like this one. What else? I was adopted, an alien? Born a boy?”

“I… I’m sorry,” Essie apologizes and her pale cheeks burn bright red. I sigh, not wanting to accept her apology, but knowing that it’s futile to ignore. I understand the Mason brothers wanting her. Essie’s a better looking version of me. We share the same brown hair, and a similar height, but nothing else. She’s bubbly and fun, while I’m snarky and sarcastic. Her voice is soft and mine is raspy. Her curvy hips, tits, and ass are a man’s fantasy come to reality. Basically, Essie is the complete and total opposite of me. I can’t blame them for wanting her- I want to be her.

I sigh again. I repeat my mantra that I’ve used for the past few months
Accept yourself, Willow. If they can’t see you as you are, then don’t accept them.

Neither Mason brother sees me for myself- neither one wants all the facets of Willow. Auggie doesn’t either. They all love me in their own ways. Kieren brings out my playful side, but there is no intimacy between us. I could be serious with Devo
n, but what he hates in himself he hates in me. Auggie, I doubt his ability to ever see me as an equal. My thoughts mean nothing, because two of the three chose Essie over me, and the other chooses to be my daddy. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a billion times, I don’t want a daddy.

I’ll settle with two best friends and a man I can come to for anything. I don’t choose between them, because I cho
ose me. I like Willow.

“I di
dn’t mean for it to happen,” Essie starts and I want to tell her to grow the hell up. I realize that, even though, I’m three years younger than Essie, she hasn’t grown up yet. Yes, she graduated from cosmetology school and has a job, but she still lives at home. Most likely she will live there until she gets married. She’ll have some babies and have a happy life. I want that life for her. But she will be stuck in this mindset. I’m not judging her, but I want more for her than to be a forty-year-old woman who is stuck at twenty. At the same time, I’m an eighteen-year-old who is acting like a forty-year-old. I shake my head. I
need
to find a happy medium or I won’t be happy, either.

“Kieren likes you, do you like him?” I ask befo
re Essie can keep talking about Devon. I don’t want to freakin’ know the details. I’m nauseated just thinking about it.

“Yeah,” she blushes a beautiful pink.

“Hurting me was heinous, but it’s forgivable because we’re family.” I pause for affect. “If you hurt Kieren, it won’t be a butter knife you’ll have to worry about,” I promise.

“Do you
still have a crush on him?” Essie’s face falls as she asks.

“How can you ask me that,” I hiss. I slam a pl
ate into the dishwater and vigorously scrub.

“I’ll leave Kieren
alone if you do,” she murmurs.

“What kind of person
do you think I am?” I growl, offended. “Whether I still do or not is completely irrelevant. Kieren likes you,” I stress. “Like you give a shit about whether or not I still have a crush on Kieren, when it didn’t matter when you fucked him to lose your virginity. Your loyalty was absent when you fucked my actual boyfriend in my own car. Cut the shit, Essie,” I seethe.

“After
what I did, I’d walk away,” Essie admits, but I can finally see it as the lie that it is.

“Bull-fucking-shit!
” I fist the water and it sprays up in our faces. “If you really liked Kieren then you wouldn’t be able to stay away. You’d end up cheating with yet another of my boyfriends. I’m saving us from a whole shit-load of hurt, Essie!” I take a fortifying breath to calm myself. “I don’t like Kieren like that. He’s my best friend and I love him. But I’m not in love with him.”

“Because you’re in love with Auggie?”
Essie’s eyes dart to the side to look at me.

“I don’t know,” I whisper
. “I’m not there yet. I love Auggie as a person, but I’m confused. I’m going with the flow. I’m too young to give a shit about my future with a guy. It’s too far away. I’m concentrating on my future.”

“Your future?”
She says in surprise.

“Yeah, my future,” I roughly growl and stare at her. “This shit with Devon taught me a lesson. I can’t place my happiness on someone else. I’m going to school and doing what makes me happy, whatever that may be
...”

“W
ere you in love with Devon?” Essie whispers so quietly I can barely hear her over the running water from the faucet.

“
Yeah… I was… but that didn’t matter, now did it? Were, was, am- they all apply- that’s where this agony is coming from. Am I in love with Auggie? No. Is it because I’m in love with Devon? I don’t know. Probably,” I whimper. “All I know is that if I’m not strong for everyone else right now, worry about their happiness, I’d curl up in a ball and die in agony. This isn’t high school crushes anymore, Essie. Your actions have real life consequences, and not just on you, either.”

“I…” Essie
stutters out. Tears are streaming down her face. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do,” I bitchily say. “It shouldn’t have matter
ed if I was in love with Devon or not. You shouldn’t have done it because you are my cousin- the only girl friend I’ve ever had. Bethany shouldn’t have done it because we were starting to be friends. One of you should have stopped the other because that’s what a real friend should do. It doesn’t matter if Devon didn’t love me or care that he was my boyfriend, but it should have mattered to you,” I pointedly stress. “You should’ve stuck up for me. A true friend hates the boy that will cheat on her friend. She sure as hell wouldn’t fuck him!”

“It was an accident,” Essie
gutlessly says. “Devon still loves you, Willow.”

“Actually,” I hiss. “Devon doesn’t, because h
e can’t. Right now that boy is incapable of loving anyone. The only thing he is capable of is being selfish. Devon hates himself. What he did with you was to punish himself- to prove that he is as bad as he feels inside.”

“How can you be so cruel?” Essie’s
eyes are wide in shock.

“Cruel? You mean like
, cruel: fucking my cousin and my friend in my car? Or cruel: taking a three-day bender in a crack house? Cruel? This is reality. We don’t live in some fairytale, Essie. Devon needed help. I’m being honest. He can’t love me. He’s too selfish to see past his self-hatred. You’re naïve if you think you can heal someone with love. It’s bull-fucking-shit. You heal someone with self-truth.”

“I…” Essie’s
stutters again in denial, and I’ve had enough.

“I can see the excuses in your eyes and I can hear it in your voice. Somehow you’ve rationalized that what you’ve done was justifiable or not your fault. Own it, Essie. You could have killed yourselves driving drunk and high
- you could have killed an innocent family! You could have gotten STDs or pregnant… Hell, you could’ve ruined lifetime friendships and a real relationship- oh, that’s right, you did that,” I snidely say. “But I owe you one debt of gratitude. You showed me who you really are and brought Devon’s problems to light.”

“Will you ever forgive me?” Essie
says, sounding pitiful, but it’s all an act.

“Yeah, I will. The day you take responsibilities for your actions is the day I forgive you. Until then, don’t break Kieren’s heart. That
, I won’t forget,” I warn in parting.

I turn to walk away and find myself facing a wall of flesh. Three solid chests are at eye-level. Malcolm, Auggie, and Kieren must have been worried I’d knife
the traitorous bitch. Each has a different expression on their face. Kieren has watery eyes and a sad little smirk, completely floored. Malcolm looks proud for some reason. But Auggie breaks my heart, because he looks proud, too.

“Refereeing, I presume?”
I snarkily say, because it’s what I do. They’d heard it all- they’d heard me admit that I’m not in love with Auggie.

~Chapter Forty-Seven~

~Welcome to the Playroom~ 

The butterflies in my tummy are fierce for such small fluttery creatures.
My stomach threatens to overthrow my intentions and wrap me around the nearest toilet. I’m scared that I’m not ready for the
Playroom
, that I won’t feel the flare of adrenaline and happiness when I walk past its threshold. The wait was too long. Perhaps I’ve lost that internal spark that fires for all things hedonistic. I’m still naïve, still too innocent.

What if
Kieren doesn’t show? What if he doesn’t want to touch me in the first place? What if Auggie gets territorial and tells me to leave? What if I freak the fuck out… make a fool out of myself… Humiliate Auggie and our friends… what if I can’t handle seeing him touch someone else?

I stew in my self-doubt.

I pace a path in front of the closed attic door. It’s a few minutes to show time. Every few minutes when my hand brushes my dress I giggle to myself. The frilly, pink dress Clover gave me for my eighteenth birthday is six-inches shorter, thanks to the kitchen shears, and way too tight, thanks to my final growth spurt. I dressed up for the grand opening of the
Playroom
since I’m the hostess. My host is laughing at me from his position against the wall.

Robbie is barely dressed. A black leather harness crisscrosses his chest. The straps have metal rings swingin
g from them. The only thing hiding his nakedness is a leather loincloth. The thick leather collar at his neck is missing Isis’ tag, but that’s because it’s now tied to his wrist by a blood-red ribbon.

“Auggie
’s going to drop dead the moment he sets eyes on you,” Robbie says in awe.

I give a curtsy
and grin. “That’s why he’s escorting the guest up here. I didn’t want to be mauled on sight.”  My dress is light pink with delicate pearl buttons up the bodice. I added a wide ribbon as a belt, and used more of the same ribbon to tie my hair into two high pigtails. The skirt is so short that the tulle tutu is visible. The tutu is so short that my pink panties with the rows of lace covering my bottom are on display. White socks with lace trim and white patent leather shoes are covering my feet. I’ve dangerously entered toddler territory. I look like a reject from
Toddlers and Tiaras
.

Footsteps on the back staircase have my heart pitter-patt
ering inside my chest. Robbie flashes me a feral smile and I pretend that his loincloth isn’t tenting from excitement and anticipation.

Auggie sees me first and stumbles. Malcolm rumbles a laugh and shakes his head at me. Isis looks impressed until she sees Robbie. I watch her expression go from mischievousness to a hunge
r so deep it makes my need for the drink look like a simple thing. One look… and I know Isis is insanely in love with my brother, and the smirk he tosses my way screams that he knows it, too. Robbie winks at me and puts Isis out of her misery by taking her hand.

The deviant summit members create a bottleneck at the top of the stairs. I only wanted a small audience for our unveiling
, so I had the guys invite no more than twenty. After tonight, anyone who they invite is welcome, as long as they don’t enter the rest of my house. The
Playroom
’s visitors enter through the kitchen, take the backstairs, bypassing the second floor with our personal rooms, and enter the attic floor. This was an edict I threw down immediately. If reality and play are separate, I don’t want my reality interrupted by their play.