Serendipity (8 page)

My dick hardens under the blanket—I need to get laid and soon. I’ve barely been in the presence of a woman in almost a year, and it shows because from the second Barbie crossed my path, I’ve been acting like a dog in heat.

I reach under the blanket, into my shorts and slowly stroke myself. I close my eyes and think about Devon—about how good she felt when she was lying beneath me, and of course how amazing her lips are—full, pouty and just the right shade of pink. Damn, she could work magic with one stroke of her talented tongue.

It doesn’t take long for me to find my release, I lay there panting. I search for something to clean up with but there’s nothing in sight. I toss the blanket back and tread upstairs, pausing when the top step creaks. I pass my room on the way to the bathroom. The light from the sconces on the wall allow me to get a slight glimpse of Barbie curled into a ball on her side, facing the opened door. If only there was more light, I’d be able to see her sleeping. She looked beautiful when she was sleeping in the truck earlier tonight, I recall the few seconds I had her in my arms, cradled against me until she started freaking out. If only I could play Weird Science and create a girl with the looks of Barbie, but the personality of Devon. Perfection.

I feel myself start to harden again so I quickly step into the bathroom.
What the fuck is wrong with me?

On my way back downstairs, I take another peek into the room. I immediately think of dead puppies—yeah I know, it’s morbid but that’s what Austin, Jake, and I always think of and we’ve been using this method for years—it’s board certified and proven to work every time.

Morning comes quicker that I had hoped. I feel like I have just shut my eyes when I hear the damn rooster crowing. Normally I’m up and out of the house by now, but not today. Today, I just want to lie around and do nothing, for once in my life. I hear my parents talking quietly by the stairs, and I carefully peer around the open door. I can barely make out what they’re saying, but it has to do with Phoebe. I jump back when I hear footsteps.

My dad pushes open the door and eyes me when he sees me just standing there. “Come on, Dean, we have to go get the girl’s things.”

He turns away before I have a chance to respond. Fuck! I didn’t bring any clothes down with me last night. That means I’m stuck wearing either my pajamas, or my nasty clothes from yesterday. I glance down at my Superman pajama pants and decide that I better change into my nasty clothes.

Walking outside, I see my dad already waiting in the truck, looking as impatient as ever. I slide into the passenger seat and cringe when I smell myself in the confined space. I was so tired when we got back last night, I forgot to shower.

“Dean, you stink! You better shower when we get back.” My dad pulls out of the driveway and heads towards Nashville.

“Yes, sir,” I reply and stare out the window.

We pull into the Kingston Suites and I pull out the key that Phoebe had reluctantly given us before we left. I can understand her hesitation, I wouldn’t want strangers going through my things either, but we are just throwing her stuff in suitcases and leaving. My dad pulls up in front of the main doors, we stop at the front counter and the woman gives us a weird look before pointing us in the right direction. Sliding the key into the lock, I wait for the blinking green light to appear. It does, and I push my way in.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply as the smell of Barbie hits my nose. Damn, she smells so good, like a field of wild flowers.

“What the hell are you doin’?” I open my eyes to see my dad staring at me with a look of disgust.

“Um, nothing. Let’s get this over with. I have a whole day to catch up with and I don’t like being behind.” I push my way pass him and open up the closet door to reveal a plethora of business suits, skirts, sweaters, tops, and shoes—lots and lots of shoes.

I sigh as I realize the amount of work we have ahead of us. I glance around, find two large, empty suitcases and start to pull things out of the closet. Dad heads to the bathroom and cleans it out, putting all of her toiletries in a plastic bag that he finds in the bathroom.

I make quick work of packing up her things, not bothering to fold the clothes neatly. I’m sure she’ll have a fit but I don’t care, I want to get out of here. My dad leaves to load up the truck and check Barbie out of the room. The last spot I have to check is the dresser drawers, which double as a TV stand.

My jaw drops when I catch sight of what’s in the drawer. Lace… tons of lace. Bras, panties, and nighties galore.

I glance around, making sure my dad isn’t coming back before reaching my hand in, tracing the luscious fabric with my fingertips. The only girl I’ve ever been with is Devon and she never wore anything like this. I pull her things out and pack them into the last small suitcase. As I take handfuls of Barbie’s things from the suitcase on the bed, something falls on the floor. I toss the things in the bag and glance down to see a… a…
toy
.

Fucking hell! What do I do? I don’t want to touch it, but I can’t let my dad see it either!

Thinking fast, I grab a pair of panties out of the bag, fold them up and pick up the small silver toy. I shove it into the suitcase and zip up the bag, just as my dad walks in.

“Got everything?” he asks, and glancing around the open room.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we have everything she
needs,
” I chuckle, but my laugh quickly dies when my dad gives me an inquisitive look. I clear my throat and grab the last bag from the bed and we leave.

Grabbing a bite to eat on the way, I try to explain the accident to my dad but he blows me off. After lunch we head home in silence, and I’m not surprised. My dad and I don’t have a typical father-son relationship. He taught me all that I know about the farm and animals, but that’s where our relationship ends.

We pull up outside and I hop out. My boots click on the gravel beneath me and dust flies up around my feet as I walk around the truck, I pop open the tailgate and begin pulling out the luggage. I have no clue how Barbie got it all here, but I’m pretty impressed. Surely it wasn’t in that little Honda she was driving in yesterday? This shit that barely fits in my dad’s truck.

With our arms loaded, we bring everything inside and put it all in my room. The room which was once masculine now smells of Barbie, and is adorned with ‘pretty’ luggage. I shake my head as I leave the room.

That done, I bounce down the stairs, ready to start my day. I hold onto the banister at the bottom and swing around, bumping into someone.

Fuck!

My parents stand in the doorway with frantic looks on their faces and Barbie is on her ass in front of me, a scowl on her face.

“Dean, what did you do?” My mom rushes to Barbie’s side and helps her stand.

“Damn it Dean, can’t you do anything right?” My dad says as he helps my mom.

“I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.” I look in Barbie’s eyes but say it to all three of them.

My mom presses her lips into a hard line but says nothing. She doesn’t need to—I know exactly what she’s thinking.
Dean messes up again!

I sigh and walk past my parents. Barbie is now upright, so my mom brushes her off and takes her to sit on the couch. I look over my shoulder to see my parents’ lavish attention on Barbie… again. She glances up and gives me a sly smirk.

Fucking Bitch!

I leave without a word, heading to the stable, I pull open the door. I can’t believe her—coming here and acting like a damsel in distress, playing my parents. I sit down on a bale of hay and try to calm myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been so frustrated with someone. Okay, maybe years ago but right now I knew that if I hadn’t left the house, I probably would have said something I would regret.

Emily passes me a pain pill, and I wash it down with the tall glass of milk that Keith hands me. I scrunch my nose when I taste the thick liquid—it’s not the almond milk I’m used to. It’s not enough that I was in a car accident yesterday but then today the prick plows into me as he comes downstairs. I know he didn’t do it on purpose, but still. While sitting on the couch, Emily comforts me and it must be her motherly touch because I feel instantly better. I peer over Emily’s shoulder and smirk at Dean. I could tell that it pissed him off but I don’t feel bad about it.

It didn’t hurt when Dean ran into me but he caught me by surprise, I feel kind of bad that they treated Dean the way they did. Emily helps me to my room and begins to unzip a suitcase.

“You don’t have to do that Emily, I’ll take care of it later,” I say sleepily. As soon as I lay on the bed, my eyes start to close on their own accord and I suddenly feel as if I have lost control of my own body. I’m not even all that tired but it must be the drugs kicking in.

“Phoebe, you only can use one hand, let me do this. You need to rest.”

I want to tell her no but I’m struggling to even speak at this point. I lie down on the bed and watch Emily as she hangs some of my things in the closet. I watch her as I drift in and out of sleep, she unzips my small bag and looks inside. She stills and glances at me--an indescribable look on her face before quickly zipping the bag up without a word.

I bolt up, my head spinning from the quick action and unzip the bag. I see what is resting on top of all of my panties and bras and the color drains from my face. I close the bag and set it gently on the floor. “I’ll unpack this bag later,” I say sheepishly.

“It’s okay dear, we all have things like that,” she smiles and moves onto another suitcase.

We all have things like that? I am not talking to her about my toys. Oh Shit. I hope that Keith didn’t pack that bag?!

My face flushes and I lie back down, hoping to erase the last five minutes. I reach for my phone and stare at the blank screen. I’ve been here for just over twenty-four hours and I still haven’t received a call or message from my mom. I dial her number and wait for her to pick up.

“Pheebs!” My mom says excitingly into the phone.

“Hi Mom,” my voice cracks as I roll to my side and bump my hand.

“What’s wrong, Phoebe?”

Leave it to my mom to pick up on the littlest things. “Well… I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you yesterday, but there’s kind of been an accident.”

“Kind of? What do you mean?” She raises her voice.

“I was on my way back to the hotel after I picked up dinner and I got into a car accident. I was taken to the hospital but everything’s fine.”

“Phoebe! Oh God, you should have called me!” She’s all but screaming into the phone. I’m sure just hearing the words ‘car accident’ brought back memories of my dad.

“Mom, I’m fine. Please calm down.” I glance up to see Emily staring at me.

She walks over and gestures for me to hand her the phone. When I hesitate, she pulls the phone away from my ear.

“Hi, Mrs. Andrews? I’m Emily Montgomery,” she introduces herself.

Emily smiles as she walks out of the room. My mom will soon discover the power of Emily Montgomery. She has taken complete control, but right now I don’t have the energy to fight her. I rest my head on the pillow and as the medication kicks in, any pain dissolves and my eyelids weigh down as I drift off to sleep.