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Dena and her ideas. Who the hell cares if stupid Ross has metal in his dick?
An image forms before my eyes, of Ross, leaning back, pants unzipped, his hand between his legs, working his cock. It’s long, so long and thick and hard, and silver glints on the underside, and... and he looks at me from under his lashes and smirks...
God.
God, Luna. This isn’t good. Not good at all. He hurt me badly. Hurt me and it wasn’t even personal. He’d look at me but never show any emotion. Never say a word.
Did I want him to notice me? To be the one to punish me?
Whoa, stop that train of thought right there. You can’t be hot for a guy like him. Guys like him never change.
Guys like him will mock you, not want you. you’re only setting yourself up for more heartache, and who ever needed their heart broken repeatedly over a bastard like him?
Stupid girls, right?
I’m not a stupid girl. I will have a future. I won’t be stranded here, and I won’t think of Ross ever again. That’s my new life’s resolution.
***
“How was it, living with auntie?” Josh asks over dinner. It’s TV dinner tonight, and I’ve always loved that—putting on a movie, ordering burgers and fries and sodas and sitting together on the sofa to watch.
Yeah, we’re not the healthiest eaters on the planet. Could be why I’m also not the thinnest girl in town, but I’m okay with it now.
Mostly.
“Aunt Emily is cool,” I tell him and steal one of his fries, just because I can. Haven’t badgered my little brother much in the past three years, got to catch up on lost time. “And so are our cousins. You should go visit them someday.”
“Nah. They’ve always preferred you.”
“Josh, that’s not true and you know it. They just don’t know you well. Now give me the remote.”
“No way, that’s mine.”
Dad harrumphs, stuffing his mouth with his burger, his eyes amused as I wrestle Josh for the remote and manage to wrench it from his hand with a triumphant squeal.
“We’ll watch Thor Ragnarok.”
“No, Luna, we said we’d watch Captain America!”
“No. Right, dad? We said we’d watch Ragnarok because it was so funny.”
“Gimme the remote!”
“Uh-uh! Come and get it!” Laughing, I lift it out of his reach, and laugh harder when he tugs on my arm to bring it down.
“Loon, stop bullying me!” he wails.
Time stops.
I freeze.
“What did you say?” I manage.
“Josh.” Dad puts his burger down, his brows drawn together in a dark frown. “Apologize to your sister right this instant.”
“Dad...” I shake my head at him, not sure what I want to say. That word, that one word has stopped my mind.
Bullying.
