OK, I planned this chapter in Nevaeh's POV but it didn't work out. So here's the POV you've been dying for.
A I D E N
You fucking shitheaded monkeyassed bastard.
I silently mutter curses to myself.
This morning, Nevaeh is eating breakfast in front of me, but I can't get that one word out of my mind.
How was I supposed to react back there in the restaurant after she called me that in such a teasing tone with that small smile on her lips?
How am I supposed to compose myself now?
Control your mind.
Easy. I've got this under control.
Just like yesterday, I had it under control when I stayed on the table because Nevaeh was already so hungry and had been waiting for me to start our lunch.
Like I didn't have a goddamn boner in my pants.
Like I didn't wish I could have excused myself to go to the restroom and jerk off.
Like I didn't have these words on the tip of my tongue, 'Daddy, huh? I'll show you daddy.'
Yeah. I totally had it under control. What bullshit.
I watch as Nevaeh happily eats her peanut, butter, and jelly sandwich without being aware at all of how much she has affected me.
She takes a gulp of her sweet tea and sighs in satisfaction. Even that little gesture does something to me because I'm still playing yesterday's scene in my mind.
I adjust my shirt collar so that it can give me more room to breathe.
"I guess I have to go now," she chirps, standing up. "I have the earliest class today."
I don't say anything. I just nod, shifting my attention to my plate, which still has my food half-eaten. What have I been doing?
"Are you okay?" Nevaeh's soft voice makes me look up again. Her eyes zero in on my face.
"Yeah?" My voice sounds awfully hoarse.
"It's just..." she falters. Curiosity crosses her expression. "You seem very quiet today."
I don't answer that, because I don't know how to.
"He just hasn't had his morning coffee." Ian fills my cup with black coffee.
He just came to the rescue, so the grin on his face doesn't annoy me as much as usual. I've never thought that this man could grin so widely.
Nevaeh slings her backpack across her shoulder and gives me a pretty smile that would make me the happiest man on earth if I can see it every morning. "I gotta go," she hums. "I'll see you later."
"I'll see you later." I return her smile.
I watch as she walks to the door. I've never thought that those words could sound really good.
I'll see you later.
It's just a simple sentence, but it makes me feel like I can conquer the day. It reminds me that we're going to see each other again.
I don't see any reason why she should find another place to stay in Seattle. Even though she would recover from that one traumatic night, I would be restless if she decided to live alone again. What if the place lacks a security system to prevent any stalker from breaking in?
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