Daddy's Little Girl

c h a p t e r 1

(Paris:)

“Paris, hurry the hell up!”  

I stepped out the shower and put on my bra and panties set that was set on my bed in my bedroom. I was in the process of lotioning up my body when my door burst open. 

“Paris, you needa hurry up, you taking forever.”  

Light bright skin color, and standing at a fitting 6'3, my bestfriend came into my bedroom with a scowl written on his face. I didn't cover myself up, because he seeing me like this is almost an everyday thing. He was wearing a plain white tshirt, khaki cargo pants, and Timberland boots. His afro was neatly picked, and he looked good. 

Maurice and I met when we were 7. He came to my window, knocking on it and asked if he could sleep over because his parents would be arguing. I let him sleep under my high bed, until we hit 13 and he would sleep in my bed with me. He would come in late at night, and leave early in the morning so his parents wouldn't know he's gone, and my parents wouldn't know he came over. It ended when we were 14 and his father officially left his mama and him and went off on his own. Since then, Maurice has been my bestfriend. I can't lie, tho. I had the eyes for him, and I still do. I mean, he's sexy. I just don't want to jeopardize the friendship that we have right now because I decide to tell him my feelings for him, so I just keep them to myself. 

“I just got out the shower, Mar.”  I said, rolling my eyes at him as I lotioned my legs and looked at him. 

“Well, just hurry up.”  He said, taking a quick glance at my body before leaving out my room. 

I sighed and walked over to my closet and pulled out a sky blue, tightly fitted, short dress and some silver platform heels. I put them on and took a trip to the stool in front of my mirror. I rolled my hair into spiral curls, and lightly touched my cheeks with a rose colored blush. I painted my lips with light pink gloss, and I put on a simple necklace around my neck that read my name. Paris. 

“Paris!”  I heard my name being hollered once more. I grabbed my purse and placed my phone and keys inside it and walked out of my room, closing the door behind me. 

I walked down the staircase to see Maurice standing with an annoyed look on his face, while he was scrolling through his phone. He looked up at me and did a double take. His jaw slightly dropped, and I smiled at him, with pure enjoyment written all over my face. 

“You look good as hell.” He stated honestly, looking me up and down. I smirked,   “That's what happens when you're not being rushed.” His demeanor quickly changed, “Whatever, you ready to go?” I nodded, and he walked out the front door with me right behind him. I closed the door and locked it, getting into the passenger side of Maurice’s Benz. 

“I can’t believe I really agreed going to this shit with you.” I said, taking out my phone and unlocking it. “Paris, lose allat attitude. You should be glad I told your antisocial, desperate ass to come anyway.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. I rolled my eyes as I checked the text message I had on my phone. It was from my other bestfriend, Cookie. 

“Hey, boo. What you doing?” 

I texted her, telling her about the club Maurice was talking me to. 

“Oh, well, have fun. I hope you get you a nigga.” 

Cookie had been my bestfriend since I was fourteen, during my freshman year of high school. I accidentally bumped into some bitch, and she snapped on me, but for some reason, Cookie stepped in the middle of it and beat her ass. Just then, I knew I had to keep her around. I invited her over to my house when I used to stay with my mother, and she noticed the ballet slippers I had hanging on the wall. She asked me if I still danced, and I told her why I didn’t. She had a similar situation, but with her mother, so she didn’t judge me. That’s when I realized I found my female bestfriend.