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All I want is to be happy with my life and I think this could be a good option, even if others might not think so.
I should tell my father about what I’m going to do, but if I do, he’s going to try to talk me out of it . . . so I’m not going to tell him. Not yet.
Finishing up my shower, I snag the towel off the rack and wrap it around my body.
Today, things feel a bit different.
I’m more at ease, and it feels like the world isn’t weighing on my shoulders.
I head into my room and go to my closet, grabbing a pair of comfortable jeans and a loose-fitting top.
Drying off, I grab everything else I need and start putting them on, then slide one leg at a time into my jeans.
I’m a little surprised at how well they fit. Ebony was cleaning out her closet and didn’t want some of her clothes, so she gave me a whole bunch.
They’re practically brand new, but I know she’s never really struggled with money her whole life.
She doesn’t understand if you’re poor, you keep clothes until they’re physically ripping, and even then you sometimes keep wearing them.
Once I’m finished getting dressed, I check my braids and make sure they look okay. Not a single hair is out of place and I smile to myself, thinking I look pretty damn good.
Leaving my bedroom, I head for the stairwell and continue all the way until I’m on the level where the club has their clubhouse.
My stomach’s growling like crazy and I desperately need some grub.
As I make my way through the main area and head back toward the kitchen, the scent of coffee fills the air.
I’m like a moth to a flame right now, but it makes me wonder who’s up this early. Someone obviously is, since coffee’s brewing.
Walking in I’m only met with the loud hum of the refrigerator.
I take a mug from the cupboard and go over to the coffee pot, filling it up to the top with a dose of exactly what I need.
Mmm, it smells so good.
Heading over to the fridge I grab the milk and put a splash of it in.
I don’t waste any time taking a sip and allowing the coffee to take over my tastebuds.
Gazing around the room, I’m surprised whoever made the coffee isn’t sitting in here.
I take another sip and debate what I’m going to make this morning.
The club has plenty of options, and some of the guys are super anal about their protein intake and have premade shakes in here.
For a moment, I think I’ll grab one, but I really want something sugary.
My stomach rumbles again, desperately pleading with me to eat something.
After a few more moments I head to the cupboard where we keep the pancake mix and grab a fresh box.
Some fluffy, buttery pancakes are exactly what I need.
I grab one of the pans that hang from the display over the island and put it on the stove, turning the burner to low heat.
I’ll give it a couple of minutes to warm up while I throw the mix together.
So many of the brothers here will only use water, but I think that’s fucking disgusting.
