Page 5 of Her Possessive Daddies

"Team Abbie," I echo softly as she disappears down the hall, her footsteps fading into her own room.

Alone now, I sink deeper into my pillows, the events of the day washing over me. The breakup that should hurt more than it does, the application that feels more like freedom than failure. My lips curve into a smile as my eyes grow heavy, thoughts drifting to possibilities of a life I never considered before today.

3

ABBIE

"Oh god, yes! Right there! Don't stop!"

My eyes snap open at Tessa's voice piercing through our shared wall, way too loud and enthusiastic for this hour. The headboard thumps against it in a steady rhythm, each impact making my own bed frame shudder slightly.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." I reach for my phone from my nightstand, squinting at the harsh blue light. 7:04 AM glares back at me, mocking my desperate need for sleep after last night's late shift.

A deep male grunt joins the symphony of squeaking springs and Tessa's theatrical moans. I don't even want to know who her latest conquest is - probably someone she met last night while I was at the library studying.

"Seven in the morning." I slam my pillow over my head, pressing it against my ears. "On a Saturday." I raise my voice and repeat the thought making me more pissed by the minute, knowing full well she can't hear me over her own performance.

The wall vibrates with another thump, and I can feel my blood pressure rising. This is definitely not how I planned to start my precious weekend.

"Fuck, that’s it!"

"No sex is that good, Tess." I mutter into my mattress. "Not at seven freaking AM."

The rhythm speeds up, and Tessa's voice rises an octave. I swear she's doing this on purpose - her bedroom's big enough to use the other wall.

"Yes! Yes! YES!"

I fire off a text:I hate you so much right now

The thumping reaches its crescendo. My phone chimes almost immediately:

Sorry babe! Making up for your dry spell

At 7 AM???

The early bird gets the worm

I'm investing in noise-canceling headphones

Love youuuu

How the hell is she texting while sexing? I'll have to ask her about her technique later when I'm not so annoyed.

The kitchen floor chills my bare feet as I shuffle to the cabinet. My phone's already in hand - a bad habit I can't seem to break. The cereal box rattles as I pour, half my attention on my Instagram feed.

Scroll. Double tap. Scroll. Double-

My spoon clatters against the counter.

There he is. Chandler, at what looks like The Mill, his arm draped around a blonde in a crop top that could pass for a bra. The timestamp shows 3 AM.

"Seriously?" My voice echoes in the empty kitchen. "It's been twelve fucking hours."

The blonde's got that Instagram model look - all angles and filters, the kind of girl who probably has "wanderlust" in her bio and a feed full of acai bowls. Her perfectly manicured hand rests on his chest, head thrown back in laughter at whatever profound wisdom Chandler's surely spouting about his premium golf membership or his latest shopping spree at Brooks Brothers.

My thumb hovers over the comment box, heart pounding against my ribs. I could say something cutting. Something that would show I'm above this, maybe a casual "cute pic!" with just enough bite to let him know I've seen it. But dating him has taught me better than to feed into his games. Instead, I take a screenshot and text it to Tessa, knowing she'll have choice words about his apparent "networking" skills. At least someone will say what I'm really thinking.

Well that didn't take long.

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