When Sloane's father (a wealthy, old-fashioned, well-known politician) disowned and cut her off from the family for wanting to pursue a career in dance instead of accepting the partial scholarship she received from Oxford, she would need to earn qui...
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I woke up to a child crying, loud breathing and a strong, muscular arm that was wrapped tightly around my waist. It was 7:30 am. I internally groan rolling over to face him, tracing one of the many tattoos on his arms. It was a portrait of a young woman. Likely in her early twenties or late teens. She was wearing a scarf to cover her hair, although, the front bits were hanging out. She had her hands together as if she was praying and a cross necklace wrapped around her hands. The woman was gorgeous, and the artistry in the tattoo was nothing but beautiful.
As my fingers traced around the lines of the scarf, and my knuckles gently brushed the shading on the woman's face, I felt him stir beside me.
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She had been tracing the portrait of Cora for over twenty minutes. It was one of my favourite tattoos, one of them that meant the most to me. With a space just above it for a portrait of Cassie for when she grew up.
Usually, I got pissed off if someone woke me. It wasn't even 8 o'clock yet. Sloane for some reason didn't piss me off, maybe it was the way she woke me or maybe it was just her. But either way, I knew that all I wanted to do was bring her in for a hug and give her a gentle kiss on the forehead...but we met yesterday. It was way too soon for that.
The connection I felt with this girl was enough to give any guy butterflies. I knew she had been through shit. If she hadn't she would not have been scared to go back to her flat after seeing her dad. I could tell by the reaction when he hit her that the abuse was more mental than physical. Who knew if that was a good thing or not? I mean it was better than having to walk around with the scars every day as a reminder.
Sloane was lying on one of my arms, leaning her arm over my stomach to trace the tattoo.
"You have plans today?" I ask her
"No, I was meant to have work tonight and Sundays are usually my day when I go food shopping and do chores." she replies nestling her head in the crook of my neck.
"You up to going home?"
"I don't want to but I should" she frowns "I don't want to invade your house for too long. Plus, I have to start getting ready for university."
"How do you even get ready for uni" I chuckle. It's not like I ever went or could go. I got expelled and then became a tradesman.
"How old are you?" a confused look spreading across her face.
"Twenty-four" I swear to god after all of this she better not be a minor. The last thing I need right now is to catch a case. "How old are you?"
"Nineteen"
Thank fuck
"What are you studying at uni?" genuinely curious about my mystery girl...not that she was my girl or anything.
"Dance and drama" she said proudly "at the Conservatoire for Dance & Drama. But mostly dance
Conservatoire? If that wasn't some posh bullshit I have no fucking clue what it was.
"You're an actual dancer?" I ask, soundly more surprised than I probably should
"What? You thought I was just a stripper?" a smirk crept across her face
"Umm"
"You can say yes, Colton."
"Fine, yes I thought you were just a stripper" I say, feeling my cheeks flush
She punches me lightly, but hard enough to leave a red mark on my abs, smiling.
"How's your face feeling?" trying to change the topic
"It hurts like a bitch" she winces at the memory "but it's nothing a bit of make-up can't cover".
I smile at her, again resisting the urge to give her a gentle kiss.
"Who was the person crying earlier?"
"Probably Cassie"
She looks at me, puzzled
"My little sister" I assure her "she's a toddler. No one was dying, trust me"
Her puzzled look turns into a smile
"Wanna get up? I ask
"Mhm" she nods. Rolling over to get up
Fuck she's hot.
I pull on a hoodie leading her down the stairs towards the kitchen. Seeing my grandma and mum sitting at the table with Cassie in her high chair playing with her food more than eating it.
"COLLY" Cassie shrieks causing mum and grandma turning to look at Sloane and I.
My mum didn't care if I brought girls over. I was 24 and only lived at home because it wasn't safe to live in my place. As long as the girl was respectful and I was responsible, she just wanted me to enjoy my life. It's not like she could lecture me on the topic anyway, she had me when she was 17 with a meth-loving addict who disappeared and faked his death to get out of paying child support. It's safe to say that he was found. However, my grandma hated me doing it. No one I had ever brought home had met her impossibly high standards. She was more conservative than my mum. Religious too. But at least she had an open mind.
"Morning Cassie" I smiled giving her a kiss on her forehead. "Mum, grandma. This is Sloane."
Sloane smiled, I thought she would be nervous meeting my family, but she was strangely calm and professional about it. How many times has she done it before?
"Nice to meet you Sloane" my mum smiles sweetly
"Sloane, this is my mum, Naomi. And my grandma, May." I introduce them
"Nice to meet you both." Sloane smiles
The three of them engage in some sort of convocation while I clean up Cassie. Wiping the banana off her face, hands and clothes. Picking her up out of her highchair, throwing her in the air before catching her again sending high-pitched giggles echoing around the room.
"I'm gonna go give her a bath" I tell the three of them "Sloane, if you need me I'll be in the bathroom upstairs."
