AFOC Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Lucian POV
“Shit, Sam.” I groan as she grinds into me. Her shirt is tossed to the floor, and I’m cupping her breasts as we ride out our high.
Her head falls to my shoulder and my hands slide down to her hips as our breathing evens out. I’m relieved we’re at my house because I’m so uncomfortable in my pants.
“When I marry you, our wedding night is going to be something for the books,” I joke, kissing her neck.
She chuckles, prying herself away from me to grab her shirt as I grab clean boxers and head to the bathroom. I’m thankful we’re on the third floor and my brothers are busy with their own things.
Damon is with Trisha at a doctor’s appointment and ultrasound, where I guess they’ll be able to see what they’re having. Mike is working, and my younger siblings are outside with Dad enjoying the leaves that have fallen, signaling early October.
When I return from the bathroom, Sam is relaxing on her stomach with her homework. “I’m wondering if we should take our study habits down to the kitchen since we have a hard time keeping our hands to ourselves.”
I snort. “But I like our new study habits.”
She laughs before changing the subject. “So, how are the applications going?”
I’m surprised she picked this subject since she’s been avoiding the discussion altogether. “Decent. Havard, Columbia, Yale, and Princeton are finished, I just need to mail them.”
“Those are some big names,” she breathes.
“Yeah, I mean, they’re good schools. I’m applying to some local colleges, too,” I mumble, trying not to start the argument. The argument that I better not change my college plans for her. Even though I think she can get into any of those schools I listed. But she argues she can’t, that she isn’t smart enough, and she can’t afford it anyway, if by some miracle she could get in based on her academics.
Hoping she didn’t hear the end of what I said, I quickly ask, “How are your applications going?”
“Good. I’m working on my essay for Western Washington University, Evergreen State College Central. I have everything done and will mail by next week to Washington University, Seattle University, and the University of Washington,” she answers matter-of-factly.
I try hard not to get annoyed, but I can’t help it. “You’re really not trying for any schools outside Washington?”
Is it so wrong that I want to be with her in college; that I think she’s smart enough to come with me to an Ivy League school? Hell, I could pay for her tuition and mine with just a third of the ridiculous trust fund I have. My savings alone could support us, we could get an apartment the second year; it’s not like money would be an issue. We could get jobs if we needed to.
Her fingers turn white as she grips the book tightly. “No, I’m not. It’s too expensive to go out of state.”
I shake my head. “My aunts would help pay for you to go to a good school.”
She looks up from the pages of her book and narrows her eyes at me. “They probably would, but I don’t want to depend on them to do so. They just let me live with them a few months ago, it won’t even be a year by the time I need money for college. I will not take advantage of them.”
I bite my cheek to keep from growling. The idea that anyone would think she’s taking advantage of my aunts is laughable. How doesn’t she realize they already love her and think of her as their own?
“I think you should at least apply to out of state schools so you have the options. Just in case you change your mind.” It’s a reasonable request, I think. But this is also Sam, and she’s fiercely independent about these kinds of things, which is why we continue to have these same discussions since we began the application process.
“I think it’s unreasonable that you keep pressuring me to do something I’m not comfortable doing. And you giving up your plans in order to stay with me during our college years is too much pressure on me.” Her voice hitches at the end of her verbal spew.
I swallow hard, turning everything she said over in my mind. “I think you make some good points, and I don’t want to make you feel like I’m forcing myself on you or making you do something you don’t want to do.” My throat tightens as I process her words more and more, though I know it's probably irrational to feel this way.
I hear her sigh. “I want to be with you forever, Lucian, don’t think I don’t. But I also know we need to take our own paths to get what we want. You’ve always dreamed of Harvard and being a hotshot lawyer. You shouldn’t sacrifice the hard work you’ve done to get you there because you fear leaving me behind.”
I nod. “I don’t care how far apart we end up or where we go. You will always be mine. I will marry you after we graduate college.” Under my breath, I mumble, “I still think you should apply to one out-of-state school.”
She chuckles. “I need a snack, so let’s go raid your fridge.”
She must be changing the subject before it gets too heated between us.
Heading to the kitchen, we find Dad in there handing out snacks to my siblings.
“Hey, I was just going to look for you guys. I want to surprise your mom with a date night tonight. Think you can watch the kids?”
I know Mom and Dad have been having a rough time with all the new changes around here, plus Mom’s newest project. Even though the clinic has been open for a little while now, she’s still tying up loose ends and making sure everything is running smoothly. I think she has a micromanagement problem.
“Absolutely, Dad. Maybe you can talk her into hiring the right amount of staff and be home more,” I joke.
He snorts, running his hand through his hair. “That’s the plan, actually. I’ve already been making some changes, such as I’m working nine-to-five-type hours. We have more than enough, we don’t need to be working this hard anymore.”
He gives hugs and kisses to my younger siblings before patting my back as he makes his way out the door.
I put my younger siblings to bed, having to read three stories to Wyatt before he would fall asleep. Walking into the den to watch a movie for a bit, I see Damon lying in Trisha’s lap reading to her bump. Trisha’s face is reading all kinds of uncomfortable.
I lean against the wall. “Damon, what are you doing?”
“Reading to the baby, what does it look like?” His snarky tone makes me chuckle. I know my brother; he’s just trying to show off.
“And you have to cross into Trisha’s personal space to do that?”
He rolls his eyes. “Does this make you uncomfortable, Trisha?”
Her gaze roams across his bare chest and the tips of her ears turn light pink. “I think I should get going.”
Damon hops up, helping Trisha to her feet, then leans down to the small bump. “Now, little one, be good to Mommy. No middle of the night snacks sending her out looking for pickles and hot chocolate at two in the morning.”
Her face pinkens more as she tries to hide her smile at my brother’s antics.
I snort. “Goodnight, Trisha.”
She waves as Damon escorts her out. I watch as her gaze lingers on his bare torso before meeting his cocky smirk.
I’m about to get comfortable on the couch when Mom walks in with Damon trailing behind her.
Her face is red and puffy. “Have you guys seen your dad?”
Before I can answer her, my phone rings. The display shows it’s Dad. “Hello?”
Mom’s eyes lock onto mine as I hear him slur into the phone. “Hey, could you and, um, shit, and, um, fuck, Mike, come get me and—and the—the car, please?”
Never in all the years that Edward has been my dad have I heard him so drunk. My heart stutters as tears fall down my mom’s face. “Yeah, Dad, I can do that. Where are you?”
It takes two minutes for him to not quite coherently tell me which bar he’s at. I call Mike down from his room to ride with me, taking one last look at Mom. “Do I even want to know what happened that sent Dad to a bar to get so hammered I have to pick him up?”
Mom shakes her head. “This is between me and your father.”
Damon scoffs and leaves the room. All I can do is walk out to my car and make the drive to pick up Dad. Mike and I pull up to the place he said he’s at, and I cringe. There’s a red neon sign with only two letters working. People hanging around the entrance are smoking, and I’m sure I see things passing between two of them. I can’t believe Dad is at such a place.
“I think Dad stopped at the first place he saw that had booze,” Mike comments before opening his door.
I look around once more before following him out of the car and into the bar. It isn’t hard to spot him; he’s the only one with a five-hundred-dollar suit slamming back whiskey as he slurs something at the bartender who seems more interested in anything else than a drunken man’s ramblings.
I keep my head down from all the people staring at me and Mike as we make our way over to where Dad is.
“Dad?”
His eyes are unfocused and so bloodshot. I’m sure he’s seeing triple at this point.
His hands stretch out with a drunken smile. “Boys, thank you for coming. I am very ready for bed now.”
Jesus. “Okay, let’s give Mike your keys, and I’ll drive you home.”
Lucian POV
“Shit, Sam.” I groan as she grinds into me. Her shirt is tossed to the floor, and I’m cupping her breasts as we ride out our high.
Her head falls to my shoulder and my hands slide down to her hips as our breathing evens out. I’m relieved we’re at my house because I’m so uncomfortable in my pants.
“When I marry you, our wedding night is going to be something for the books,” I joke, kissing her neck.
She chuckles, prying herself away from me to grab her shirt as I grab clean boxers and head to the bathroom. I’m thankful we’re on the third floor and my brothers are busy with their own things.
Damon is with Trisha at a doctor’s appointment and ultrasound, where I guess they’ll be able to see what they’re having. Mike is working, and my younger siblings are outside with Dad enjoying the leaves that have fallen, signaling early October.
When I return from the bathroom, Sam is relaxing on her stomach with her homework. “I’m wondering if we should take our study habits down to the kitchen since we have a hard time keeping our hands to ourselves.”
I snort. “But I like our new study habits.”
She laughs before changing the subject. “So, how are the applications going?”
I’m surprised she picked this subject since she’s been avoiding the discussion altogether. “Decent. Havard, Columbia, Yale, and Princeton are finished, I just need to mail them.”
“Those are some big names,” she breathes.
“Yeah, I mean, they’re good schools. I’m applying to some local colleges, too,” I mumble, trying not to start the argument. The argument that I better not change my college plans for her. Even though I think she can get into any of those schools I listed. But she argues she can’t, that she isn’t smart enough, and she can’t afford it anyway, if by some miracle she could get in based on her academics.
Hoping she didn’t hear the end of what I said, I quickly ask, “How are your applications going?”
“Good. I’m working on my essay for Western Washington University, Evergreen State College Central. I have everything done and will mail by next week to Washington University, Seattle University, and the University of Washington,” she answers matter-of-factly.
I try hard not to get annoyed, but I can’t help it. “You’re really not trying for any schools outside Washington?”
Is it so wrong that I want to be with her in college; that I think she’s smart enough to come with me to an Ivy League school? Hell, I could pay for her tuition and mine with just a third of the ridiculous trust fund I have. My savings alone could support us, we could get an apartment the second year; it’s not like money would be an issue. We could get jobs if we needed to.
Her fingers turn white as she grips the book tightly. “No, I’m not. It’s too expensive to go out of state.”
I shake my head. “My aunts would help pay for you to go to a good school.”
She looks up from the pages of her book and narrows her eyes at me. “They probably would, but I don’t want to depend on them to do so. They just let me live with them a few months ago, it won’t even be a year by the time I need money for college. I will not take advantage of them.”
I bite my cheek to keep from growling. The idea that anyone would think she’s taking advantage of my aunts is laughable. How doesn’t she realize they already love her and think of her as their own?
“I think you should at least apply to out of state schools so you have the options. Just in case you change your mind.” It’s a reasonable request, I think. But this is also Sam, and she’s fiercely independent about these kinds of things, which is why we continue to have these same discussions since we began the application process.
“I think it’s unreasonable that you keep pressuring me to do something I’m not comfortable doing. And you giving up your plans in order to stay with me during our college years is too much pressure on me.” Her voice hitches at the end of her verbal spew.
I swallow hard, turning everything she said over in my mind. “I think you make some good points, and I don’t want to make you feel like I’m forcing myself on you or making you do something you don’t want to do.” My throat tightens as I process her words more and more, though I know it's probably irrational to feel this way.
I hear her sigh. “I want to be with you forever, Lucian, don’t think I don’t. But I also know we need to take our own paths to get what we want. You’ve always dreamed of Harvard and being a hotshot lawyer. You shouldn’t sacrifice the hard work you’ve done to get you there because you fear leaving me behind.”
I nod. “I don’t care how far apart we end up or where we go. You will always be mine. I will marry you after we graduate college.” Under my breath, I mumble, “I still think you should apply to one out-of-state school.”
She chuckles. “I need a snack, so let’s go raid your fridge.”
She must be changing the subject before it gets too heated between us.
Heading to the kitchen, we find Dad in there handing out snacks to my siblings.
“Hey, I was just going to look for you guys. I want to surprise your mom with a date night tonight. Think you can watch the kids?”
I know Mom and Dad have been having a rough time with all the new changes around here, plus Mom’s newest project. Even though the clinic has been open for a little while now, she’s still tying up loose ends and making sure everything is running smoothly. I think she has a micromanagement problem.
“Absolutely, Dad. Maybe you can talk her into hiring the right amount of staff and be home more,” I joke.
He snorts, running his hand through his hair. “That’s the plan, actually. I’ve already been making some changes, such as I’m working nine-to-five-type hours. We have more than enough, we don’t need to be working this hard anymore.”
He gives hugs and kisses to my younger siblings before patting my back as he makes his way out the door.
*AFOC*
I put my younger siblings to bed, having to read three stories to Wyatt before he would fall asleep. Walking into the den to watch a movie for a bit, I see Damon lying in Trisha’s lap reading to her bump. Trisha’s face is reading all kinds of uncomfortable.
I lean against the wall. “Damon, what are you doing?”
“Reading to the baby, what does it look like?” His snarky tone makes me chuckle. I know my brother; he’s just trying to show off.
“And you have to cross into Trisha’s personal space to do that?”
He rolls his eyes. “Does this make you uncomfortable, Trisha?”
Her gaze roams across his bare chest and the tips of her ears turn light pink. “I think I should get going.”
Damon hops up, helping Trisha to her feet, then leans down to the small bump. “Now, little one, be good to Mommy. No middle of the night snacks sending her out looking for pickles and hot chocolate at two in the morning.”
Her face pinkens more as she tries to hide her smile at my brother’s antics.
I snort. “Goodnight, Trisha.”
She waves as Damon escorts her out. I watch as her gaze lingers on his bare torso before meeting his cocky smirk.
I’m about to get comfortable on the couch when Mom walks in with Damon trailing behind her.
Her face is red and puffy. “Have you guys seen your dad?”
Before I can answer her, my phone rings. The display shows it’s Dad. “Hello?”
Mom’s eyes lock onto mine as I hear him slur into the phone. “Hey, could you and, um, shit, and, um, fuck, Mike, come get me and—and the—the car, please?”
Never in all the years that Edward has been my dad have I heard him so drunk. My heart stutters as tears fall down my mom’s face. “Yeah, Dad, I can do that. Where are you?”
It takes two minutes for him to not quite coherently tell me which bar he’s at. I call Mike down from his room to ride with me, taking one last look at Mom. “Do I even want to know what happened that sent Dad to a bar to get so hammered I have to pick him up?”
Mom shakes her head. “This is between me and your father.”
Damon scoffs and leaves the room. All I can do is walk out to my car and make the drive to pick up Dad. Mike and I pull up to the place he said he’s at, and I cringe. There’s a red neon sign with only two letters working. People hanging around the entrance are smoking, and I’m sure I see things passing between two of them. I can’t believe Dad is at such a place.
“I think Dad stopped at the first place he saw that had booze,” Mike comments before opening his door.
I look around once more before following him out of the car and into the bar. It isn’t hard to spot him; he’s the only one with a five-hundred-dollar suit slamming back whiskey as he slurs something at the bartender who seems more interested in anything else than a drunken man’s ramblings.
I keep my head down from all the people staring at me and Mike as we make our way over to where Dad is.
“Dad?”
His eyes are unfocused and so bloodshot. I’m sure he’s seeing triple at this point.
His hands stretch out with a drunken smile. “Boys, thank you for coming. I am very ready for bed now.”
Jesus. “Okay, let’s give Mike your keys, and I’ll drive you home.”
Comments
Post a Comment