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"Morning, darlin’," I greet her, my voice hoarse from being quiet too long. She smiles, cuddling into the crook of my arm. This small fact, knowing that she isn't regretting what happened last night, makes me feel so much better.
"Morning," she mumbles, stretching in my arms like a lithe cat. My fingers graze her exposed skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. It feels good to be able to do this.
We take our time getting up, and she giggles as I tickle her teasingly. I'm relishing the touch of her skin against mine, and for the first time in my life, I'm not regretting waking up with a girl in my bed.
A breakthrough.
Finally, we head downstairs, and I offer to make breakfast. Cassidy agrees, sitting down on a bar stool at the counter, her elbows propped up and her hands supporting her head. She looks adorable with her tousled hair, a smile plastered on her face.
I go for pancakes, the one thing I can make. But they're damn good pancakes, if I do say so myself.
"Smells delicious," Cassidy comments, flipping through a cookbook Mom left on the counter. I keep sneaking glances at her out of the corner of my eye, not quite believing what is going on.
The change in her is enormous, and I can't believe how little it took to get her to ease off the attitude. She hasn't cursed once today – in fact, she's been smiling since she got up.
As much as I like Tony, Cassidy's father, I resent him for leaving Cassidy and her mother. You can tell from the change in attitude she's full of hatred because of what happened.
I set a plate of fluffy pancakes with blueberries in front of her, and her eyes widen. She licks her lips, which makes my cock stir, and I make a mental note to keep calm.
"Yum," she says like an excited kid, reminding me that those three years that separate us make a huge difference. She's still so young, and I've fucked up too many times to count in my life.
It makes my smile fade.
Cassidy digs in with a fork and gushes about my cooking skills, and it helps me to recover my smile.
I watch her closely and I’m surprised when her eyes grow worried after a while, and her motions become slower and slower.
She pushes her plate away after a minute or so, her lips pursed. She hasn't even finished her food.
"What's wrong?" I ask, my voice tense.
"Nothing."
She slips off the stool, walking away from me without so much as a look over her shoulder. I'm getting more and more confused by the second. I clear her plate, then head after her, finding her in the living room, flipping through the channels on the TV.
I sit down next to her on the couch, and she inches away from me. I give her a confused look, but she refuses to meet my eye. Several long minutes go by, until I've had enough of her childish games.
I reach across her lap, pulling the remote out of her hands. I turn off the TV while she crosses her arms in front of her body, already in defensive mode. Her eyes are glued to the blank TV screen, refusing to so much as look at me.
"What are you doing?" I ask her, hardly masking the anger in my voice.
Cassidy doesn't answer, just pouts and mutters something to herself.
"Fine," I say. I get up from the couch, throwing the remote at the plush fabric and running a hand through my hair. I'm already exhausted from the lack of conversation on Cassidy's part. "I'm heading out. I don't have the time for this."
"I'm sure," she retorts with a bitter undertone to her voice, and I don't understand what's happening at all. She's quick to answer, and I can tell all her barbs are out, ready to hurt me. "Already off to win over another conquest?"
"What?" My expression is one of genuine confusion.
"Oh, right," she snaps at me. "Like I'm so far off."
"Cassidy, what are you saying?" I ask her tiredly.
"The truth," she says, the volume of her voice already rising and ready for the fight which I'm sure she's about to start. "Don't think I'm that dumb, Dom. I know you wanted to get in my panties as soon as I saw you. Is that what I am to you, some sort of game you needed to win?"
I think of the bet, and guilt fills me. She laughs sadly, knowing she is right. What a sad pair we are.
"No need to defend yourself," she says, her voice almost breaking as she speaks. "You got what you wanted, even more. Bet you didn't think you'd be my first. At least I gave you something to brag about."
She gets up from the couch and tries to leave, the anger coming off her in waves of red-hot mist. She passes me and I grab her by the waist, but this imaginary scenario she has going on in her head has given her a new-found strength.
