Page 172 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
Shane, ignoring both women’s wants, lingers around Annabelle as she climbs.
For the second attempt this week, Dollie continues to scrub at the cruel dubbing of my house with a paint stripper. So far, between us all, we’ve faded a few letters. Conveniently enough, struggling with the S, L, U, and T.
“We can just paint over them, Dollancie.”
“Do you think that’ll work? They’re very red.”
“Well, scrubbing at them hasn’t worked, has it?”
“Not yet, but?—”
“Just paint over them. Let’s get this house ready.”
Yeah, get it ready for absolutely nothing because I will never sign over my share.
I smile, blood dripping from my ear over my fingers.
Annabelle doesn’t look convinced that painting will work, either. She wears one of Dollie’s hoodies, and I assume nothing else because Shane’s eyes are locked on the space between her legs as he holds the ladder for her. My eyes flick to them as Dollie makes it safely to the ground and selects a paintbrush of choice.
With the pink on the bristles, she makes her way back up the ladder, each step slow, careful, and nervous.
Shane doesn’t move, eyes still glued on Annabelle’s ass, and it twists my expression into something hateful.
I’m glad I can’t see myself, but equally, I’m displeased at what I see when I look down.
A furry beer gut is revealed as Shane flaps his T-shirt to cool down. It must be all the work he hasn’t done that is making him sweat.
“It is pretty hot today.” Another effort from Shane to talk to Annabelle. He’s been trying since he arrived, and she’s avoided lingering conversations.
Turning, I look to Dollie, who he’s hardly started any with.
God, I wish she could see him for what he is.
“I’m not sure this pink is gonna work.” Dollie’s shoulders slump as the big S seeps through her first coat.
“It’s funny, though, the letters that won’t budge. It’s like someone’s trying to tell me something. What do you think, Annabelle? You know her better than most.” Shane laughs.
“Dollie, can you go get me a water? I don’t want to disturb Bubbles.” Annabelle smiles as she also fails at covering a letter.
“Of course.”
When Dollie’s out of earshot, Annabelle drops down from the ladder, her paintbrush extended in a pointed hand, full of accusation.
Pushing the window wider, I ignore the blood still dripping down my ear and listen for what she has to say.
“They could be talking about you, don’t you think? I mean, you’re the one who’s been slutting about. Dollie’s naïve and has a lot going on, and she doesn’t see what you’re doing, but I do. So, I’ll say this now, the way you’re hanging around me, it’s uncomfortable. For me and for her. And it’s embarrassing for you.”
“You really have the wrong end of the stick. I was just trying to get to know you because you’re her friend.”
“I am her friend, and that’s why I can’t help but remind her what a bad idea it is to let you back in. I see through you, Shane. I don’t think it’ll happen, but you have two choices if you wannado the right thing. You either give her the attention she deserves or do her a favor and step the fuck back so another man can.”
She turns her back to him, dipping her brush in the paint and taking the first step.
“She got someone in mind?”
“Don’t worry, she acts nothing like you. Now, I’m done talking to you.” Annabelle climbs higher, testing another layer of paint.
Despite all she said, Shane’s stare drops down her shiny, dark hair to her thighs, kissed by the hem of Dollie’s hoodie.
