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I snort. "No, I'm talking about someone who actually likes brats. I don't think I could put up with your attitude for more than a week before I actually choked you to death on my cock to shut you up for good."
She huffs and rolls over, which is great. I've got no fucking clue where my clothes are, but I'll walk down the hall naked as a jay bird at this point.
Five
When I firstmoved into transitional housing, I went to an underage club with some of the other kids and got roofied. Thankfully, one of the girls caught what happened and lured me away, but she wasn't sober, either. We ended up on skateboards – which neither of us had ever used before – and we busted ass so many times we could barely walk the next morning.
I'm feeling that right now. I'm stiff all over, pain radiates down my thighs, and even though I didn't have so much as a sip of champagne, the raw emotions have left me with a brutal headache.
Some of the women snicker when I roll into the breakfast room wearing my hoodie again just to keep my face covered. I ignore them as I pour myself a coffee and bypass the dining table where Lisa and the redhead are sitting, instead heading to a set of chairs facing out a window overlooking the ocean.
"You want, like, an espresso or something?"
I look up to see Addison staring at me with blue, sleepy eyes, kiss-swollen lips, perfectly mussed blonde curls, and a light but fluffy white sweater puffed up around her neck. She looks perfect.
I look like a baboon that got hit by a train in the middle of the night.
"Gross, no," I huff.
She frowns, and even that looks perfect on her. "Are you doing okay today?"
Before I can tell her I'm not a child, I don't need someone babysitting me, Lisa yells, "Why are you trying to make friends with her when she's being a bitch to you? You were just getting to the good part."
Addison gives me an apologetic look, but I am a bitch. Being a bitch means I don't have to worry if I can trust the people around me. I'd rather just know I can't. Lisa's speaking the truth.
Ted wasn't. I'm not a whore. He can't just say the word means something it doesn't and it'll magically mean that. That's not how the world works.
Or hell, maybe it does. I don't know who he is. Maybe his last name is Miriam. Or Webster. Maybe with enough money you can buy a spot in the dictionary. I mean, shit, enough money buys you this ridiculous weekend and up to five babies. I asked about that, and yeah, if one guy manages to get us all pregnant, they're all willing to pay five million for five babies. They even have the funds in escrow already, Jane told me, but I didn't know what that meant.
I only know I'm guaranteed a mill if I have a baby. And if I leave here pregnant, I'll have my room and board and medical covered for a year regardless of what happens. I'll have the money from this weekend to get the equipment I need so that I can spend the next nine months building my portfolio. After I have the baby, hopefully I'll be good enough that I won't be an apprentice for long afterward.
But I'll be a millionaire, so it'll be okay if I do.
And considering how many times he’s already come in me, I'll be selling a baby to Ted, who's an asshole, but that's not my problem.
I frown at my coffee. He's not just an asshole, he's old. I mean, I can't fault his body, every inch of him felt hard and broad and strong yesterday, but his kids are older than me. He's legit grandpa age. What business does he have with a baby when he's probably gonna die soon? And where's his kids' mom? Is this a service that's been around since before I was born? Has he been trying for more for the last twenty years, refusing to admit he's been firing blanks since the first two?
Is his shitty sperm gonna mess me up, and I had to put up with him all yesterday only to not get pregnant because of him?
"So we were in the hot tub," Addison is saying, and everyone is laughing like this is all normal, just regular chit chat and we're not all agreeing to sell babies to creepy old guys, "and he's got the stupid blindfold on me, but he just couldn't keep himself controlled. It kept getting splashed and dripping on my face until I told him he was waterboarding me, and he took it off."
"You saw him?" Lisa asks.
"Well, he told me not to look, of course, but it's hard! So I, umm, got a few peeks."
Paula gasps like this is the hottest gossip. "Is he cute?"
That has me resisting the urge to straighten up. Iswhocute? Is Addison talking about Ted? He didn't smell like chlorine in my room last night, just ginger like before. Did he have time to have sex with Addison in the hot tub and then shower off the chlorine scent before waking me?
He did, absolutely. I don't know how long I slept for, but I'm sure it was enough.
Did he call her a whore, too? Did he call her a brat?
Did he call me a brat to her?
"He is," Addison says with a giggle and a blush, and everyone else gets really excited.
Except me, although now the coffee is churning in my stomach.
