Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
"So, she can't come down."
"Elias. I’m not fucking you on my sister's couch."
"You're obviously not an experienced babysitter, Celine. That's the standard protocol for every babysitter I've ever had."
"You fucked your babysitters?" The horror she feels makes her mouth drop open.
"Not the old ones. Fuck, that's gross. The hot ones, sure."
"How old were you?"
"I don't know…twelve…thirteen. Not old enough to stay at home by myself."
Her hand flies to her mouth. "You fucked your babysitter when you were twelve? Had you even gone through puberty?"
I shrug. I don't remember when I became capable of fucking. The first time was an accident. Our neighbor, Justine, came over when Mom had to go to the hospital in the middle of the night. She was fifteen, and we hung out together on the sofa. We put the TV on, and there is a film that must have been rated way above our age. Somehow, we ended up fumbling around, and I ended up sticking my dick between her legs.
I remember feeling like I was in a dream. Afterward, she arranged her clothes, and we sat next to each other like nothing happened.
Her family moved that fall, and looking back, I wonder how she was so cool about what we did. Most likely, something bad was going on in her house. Looking back, the signs seem clear, but at the time, I was stuck in my head and swamped by my own problems. I don't tell Celine any of it.
"She was horny. I was horny. The rest is history."
In the other room, the washer beeps its finale, and Celine slides off her stool. "I didn't offer you a drink," she says. "Help yourself while I move the stuff into the dryer." She points to the refrigerator, so that's where I head. It's filled with fruits and vegetables, healthy smoothies, and glass containers of home-cooked food. I search for a soda, but there are only expensive brands of fizzy water or juice. I opt for juice. I'm pouring it into a glass when the front door opens, and a woman who's a double of Celine, when she had red hair, strolls into the kitchen.
"Oh, hi!"
"Hey." I lower the juice carton. "I'm Elias. Celine's friend. She's in the laundry room."
"She is?" Her brows quirk in surprise. I guess Celine isn't usually a domestic goddess when she babysits for her sister. "I'm Marie. And this is Aiden."
A big dude, with brown hair and a reddish beard, lumbers behind Marie, surveying his home and the invader in it with suspicious eyes.
"Hi." I step forward to do the manly handshake thing, making sure to offer a firm grip so he doesn't think I'm a pussy. "Celine needed help with her work."
I indicate our study material with a sweep of my hand. Marie snorts. "Of course she did."
My eyebrow jumps, and I shove my hands in my pockets, wondering what she knows and what she's assuming. Maybe Celine told her everything about what's been going on between us. Maybe she's spilled the whole sordid foursome thing. Or perhaps Marie's just assuming I'm here to hit the babysitter's ass like in all the teen movies.
"Marie. You're back earlier than I expected." Celine emerges from the laundry room to the sound of the dryer beginning to turn.
"What are you drying?" Marie asks, her expression quizzical.
"Elias's laundry. It's payment for the lending of his genius."
Aiden's expression is amused. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"
Marie's eyes drift to where my junk is outlined against my gray sweatpants. She's so like Celine that I can't stop staring.
"Leave him alone." Celine drags me by the arm and pushes me gently back onto the seat. "He's really helping me. In fact, he might be the only thing standing between me and the life of a college dropout."
"Get this man a drink." Aiden pats me on the back, reaching into a cupboard for a bottle of whiskey that looks like the good stuff. "Marie's on a health kick, so beer's out, but this is the stuff for special occasions." He raises it high like we should all worship its greatness. I'm not really feeling whiskey, but the dude's just been to visit his sick mom in hospital, so if he needs a drink, I'm gonna drink with him.
He pours what looks like a double and hands it to me. "Cheers, man," I say, lifting the glass and taking a swig. I can tell this is good stuff. It's warm and oaky in my mouth and slides like lava down my throat.
"Don't get him drunk," Celine says. "How will he help me with my work if he's drunk?"
"I can do a lot when I'm drunk."
Aiden and Marie snicker and Celine shakes her head. "You know what. I think I'm good. I had a eureka moment before I pulled your boxers out of the washer."