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Chapter Sixty-Two: "He Has Eyes."
WHEN I WAKE UP, it's still dark outside.
There wasn't much left from when my parents packed my room: a digital clock on my nightstand, a lamp, some clothes, a desk with some notebooks and extra pens and pencils, and my dad even left me a lot of condoms. Apparently he grabbed a hundred, and he packed about fifty in my to-go bags, and left the remainder here. Needless to say, after last night, I'm thankful.
The events of last night come popping back in my head, making a fraction of a automatically appear on my face, a blush to my cheeks, and my belly erupt in butterflies.
I actually did it, I think to myself pridefully. I actually lost my virginity.
I'm not entirely glad it was with Taylor, but glad enough it wasn't with a stranger. Pfft, Brooklyn you haven't seen Taylor in over two years. He is a stranger, my conscience tells me. Okay, so maybe I mean someone I haven't ever known before. Not only have we known each other for a while, but he also was my first love, which, even though we haven't seen on another in years, made the occasion more special. Had I lost it to someone else, yeah, maybe feelings would be there, but what if they weren't? It wouldn't have sat right with me, and I probably would have regretted it if I didn't feel a deep connection with the person.
Taylor was right, I was always not ready when I thought I was.
Now I was; except now I hope he doesn't regret it either. Either? She reminds me, I don't think you were readyânot with him, anyway.
I roll my eyes at her. Sure, he said he's always wanted me, but that's like telling the other person you love them when you actually don't because it's just a spur-of-the-moment kinda thing. And that's exactly what last night could have been: a spur of the moment kinda thing.
Stirring, I turn around to take a look at what time it is, and run face-to-face with a peaceful Taylor, whose lips are puckered, in a slight frown, his eyebrows knitting together and nose scrunching as he dreams. I smile, chuckling softly before glancing at the clock.
It's only four in the morning.
I groan, cursing my body for waking me up at such a God-awful time. I start to turn around to get comfortable again when his arms wrap around me securely, pulling me closer unconsciously. My heart flutters at the unconscious gesture, and I snuggle in closer, kissing his chest, his heat immediately warming me up to the core.
Closing my eyes, It is only moments until I'm back asleep.
Fuck my conscience. I'll live the regrets I have later.
***
When I wake up again, the bed is empty.
In place of where Taylor used to be, is a large bed pillow instead, supporting my head.
Checking the clock again, I see that it's quarter after ten, and I groan softly, sitting up and stretching my limbs while I yawn. I wince when an ache forms between my legs, but ignore it because it was expected.
Considering Taylor probably left, I throw the covers off my body and stand up, my naked glory being a hundred percent exposed, but is quickly covered by a long, fluffy housecoat.
I yawn again, walking to the bathroom to do my business before heading downstairs lazily. Half asleep, I walk into the kitchen, setting up coffee. Grabbing the milk from the fridge, I scream when I close the door and come face-to-face with a broad frame.
"Jesus Christ, you scared me!" I gasp, my hand flying to my rapidly beating heart.
"Sorry." He laughs, a smirk plastered on his face while he takes the milk from me and takes a swig right from the jug.
"Don't do that again!" I scold, slapping his chest and snatching the milk back.
"I'll stop creeping up on you when you stop screaming." He replies with a sneaky wink.
My eyebrows scrunch and a frown makes its way onto my lips when I try to decipher what it is he's saying in between the lines.
Or, I think it is him indirectly making references.
"I only screamed for a second." I protest in confusion.
"Not last night you didn't." He smirks.
Once again, I gasp, reaching out to smack his arm but dodges me at the last second. A deep blush forms on my cheeks and I avoid eye contact, closing the fridge door and walking towards the coffee maker, which has just finished brewing the coffee.
I grab out two mugs, automatically assuming he's having some, and start pouring the coffee, when suddenly something hot is place on my neck.
A few moments later, his arms are wrapped around me, grabbing my hands. "You're spilling, darling." He whispers, making shivers run down my spine.
Damn right I'm spilling.
Suddenly I'm brought back to reality and my eyes widen when I see that a lot of the coffee has been poured onto the counter than it has in the mugs.
"Shit!" I hiss, grabbing paper towels and frantically patting the coffee spots before they have the chance to trail down the sides and drop on the floor. "Stop being so distracting!"
"Me? Distracting? No way!" He protests teasingly, winking at me.
"Eugh, you're insatiable!" I mumble, throwing the paper towels out in the garbage.
"What can I say," he says from behind me, "once I got you, I was hooked."
I roll my eyes, spinning around to face him. "Wow, not only did you get bigger structurally, but you also got hornier. Congratulations, Taylor!" I say sarcastically.
He throws his head back in a deep, throaty laugh while he places his left hand on my waist and reaches across me for the sugar with his right. "Are you bothered by it?"
"N-no?" I stammer. Questioning yourself now, are we?
"Do you want me to stop?"
"U-um. . . is that a trick question?" Say yes to his question, you idiot!
He laughs again, leaning forward to press a kiss on my lips and then my forehead. "You're too cute, darling."
I grumble under my breath at how flustered he makes me, and finish making my coffee.
I walk back to my room, because Taylor isn't in the living room, and see him laying down on my bed comfortably while switching through channels to find something to watch. Placing my cup down on my nightstand, I jump up onto the king-sized mattress and situate myself beside him.
The ringing of my phone beside me has me getting out of bed to grab it from my desk. Looking down at the caller ID and seeing my fathers name on the screen makes my belly erupt in excited butterflies, and has me answering before my brain even comprehends what's happening. "Hello?" I say giddily into the speaker.
"Hey, baby, how are you?" He asks. He seems to be in a really cheerful mood, which makes me happy.
"I'm great, Papa. Thank you so much for letting me have the chance to stay home alone."
"Of course, honey. Now, how is it? Are you lonely?"
"Nope!" I say happily. "I've had my friends coming over almost daily, so it's not often I'm alone the whole day and night."
"That's great! Are you going to school with your friends or just staying home?"
"Um, some days I went. I, uh, recently found out some news about someone there so I've been home since." I explain, feeling anger spurt in my chest.
"Speaking of which," he says seriously, switching to English. Whenever my dad is being serious or is in a bad mood, he always speaks English. Kinda like me speaking Spanish, except that since Dad spoke Spanish almost twenty-four-seven, he resorted to English so people knew he was in a foul mood. "I read the L.A. news online."
I act unaffected. "Yeah?" I speak out. "And?"
"And I know that Taylor Vulcano was released from prison."
"He was, was he?" I gulp, trying to come off as not knowing. Whereas, little does Daddy know that the man himself is currently two feet away from me, laying down on my bed half-naked like he owns the place and is scrolling through channels.
Dad sighs in annoyance on the other side. "I know you know about it," he says, "so really there's no reason for you to lamely cover it up."
"I don't know what you're talking about." I argue.
"Don't start with me." He says sternly.
"I'm not." I squeak.
"You're lying, Brooklyn." He says. "There's literally no reason for you to lie to me. I know you know he's released from prison, just like I know that you came home last night with him and he hasn't left since."
Oh shit, he knows. What the hell am I supposed to do?! Dad has always adored Taylor, as has Mom, but why does he seem so upset about it? I know he went to jail and stuff but I did too, so really he has no reason to be upset with Taylor when he should be equally as upset with me.
I sigh in defeat. "Okay, fine, I know. I found out by Lacey but really found out when I was on the plane here."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want you to be mad," I explain. "I'm really happy about this, Daddy. Nothing's changed."
"And what makes you so sure? He could be lying, Brooklyn." He tells me.
I frown. "Papa, he's changed. I can see that he's changed; he is no longer involved with any drugs and has sworn that his days dealing are over, especially with Riverton."
"What made you believe him?"
"I. . . I don't know, Daddy. Please, just trust me on this, okay? I promise I'll work this out; maybe we can even make up for lost time."
"Unless you already have." I hear him grumble to himself.
"Pardon me?" I gasp into the phone. "Dad, did you set up cameras in our house?!"
I don't think I'd ever be able to live with myself if my dadâor either parent for that matterâhad filmed the house. Not only does that mean that they know something is going on between us, but that they possibly can see what's going on inside.
And that means they saw us this morning in the kitchen.
And heard my screaming last night.
Damn it!
"No," he says immediately, "I'm not that Goddamn cruel, hija. Jeez, I only set up perimeter cameras to see if anyone tries to break in while we're away."
A huge wave of relief washes over me.
Then settles in again.
"You wouldn't've happened to have audio on those cameras, would you?" I ask nervously, my face guaranteed to be tomato red.
This grabs the attention of Taylor, whose eyes are wide and curious, and slightly worried and panicked.
"No, why?" He asks questionably. "Should I?"
"No!" I exclaim. "IâI mean I've been catching up on Grey's Anatomy and some of my favourite characters died and I was not taking it very well and y'know. . ." I trail off, even though I'm a hundred percent fibbing.
I have never watched Grey's Anatomy.
My father chuckles on the other line. "Very well, then, darling. I'll call in a couple days to check up again, okay?"
"¡Qué padre," I reply. "I love you, Papa."
"You too, baby." He sighs contently. I'm about to hang up when my father stops me. "Say hello to your boyfriend for me, yeah?"
I blush profusely. "Yes, sir."
"Goodbye, angel." He chuckles again.
I hang the phone up, and walk back to where Taylor was sprawled. "Father?" He smirks.
I groan in my pillow as I plop down. "He told me to say hi."
He looks a little lost. "You told him?"
"Nope!" I say happily, though it was sarcastically. "He has eyes."
His eyes widen in horror. "Oh my Gâ"
"Don't worry," I chuckle, "he has outside eyes, and duly took notes that you came in last night and never came out."
"So. . ."
"We're in the clear," I giggle. "Luckily he doesn't have audio."
A full out smirk takes place immediately on his face. "Thank the Lord." He laughs. "He'd think someone was screaming Bloody Murderer."
I scowl at him. "I like pleasure. Sue me."
We get through a few episodes in silence, before Taylor breaks it and sits up, staring at me. "Does he know?"
"About us?" I ask. "I think he knows something's up, but in reference, he said exactly: 'say hello to your boyfriend for me' so I'm pretty sure he knows."
"This is drama waiting to happen, isn't it?" He sighs.
I nod sadly. Taylor has always hated drama; it was never something he wanted to be involved in, and he told people exactly that. I can sense now that his preference on that has still remained, and I can't help but feel bad. I was dragged into his drama with some drugs, and now here he is, getting dragged into my drama with life and family. Now that Landon saw that fucking picture whatever Stacy sent, it'll no doubt cause conflict between us, and Taylor will automatically jump in to my defense because he always has.
He even went up to Stacy and told her to get her grubby nose out of my business before she ended up being a play-toy for the Riverton gangâI know he wouldn't actually do that, but now that he's aged and definitely looks not only hotter, but scarier as well.
If he threatened me and I didn't know him, I most definitely would take his words to heart.
I do now, and I don't even think that's a good thing; Taylor could convince me to marry him right now and I'd oblige because he's like a damn mentalist.
"I'm sorry." I frown.
He gives me a reassuring smile. "For you, it's worth it."