Page 265 of Satan's Spawn
Crayton salutes me. “You got it. But remember, it wasn’t so long ago I was in your position. Getting drilled by your mother who’s got more questions than a fucking news reporter.”
I should’ve known this was his payback.
“You made your point.” I grit through my teeth. “Now can you please add something useful to the conversations with your Dad? I don’t want him thinking I’m some freak with a sex toy addiction.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, fuck off.” I drop back into the seat, and reach for a carrot, popping it into my mouth with a finger raised at Crayton.
He slides my chair closer, running a hand through my hair. “My father will love you regardless, trust me. He’s just happy I’m not out assaulting bitches for kicks.”
My face squishes together. “You really do that?”
“You’re really asking that question?”
I bob my head back and forth. “Alright, ya got me there.”
Bringing his face closer to mine, Crayton lowers his voice to a smooth whisper. “If it makes you feel better…I’ve been a lot less homicidal lately.”
This perks me up, and I don’t miss how toxic that makes me. “Really?”
“Really,” he echoes.
“So what do you do instead?”
“Besides you?”
I roll my eyes as Cillian makes his way back into the room…holding another glass of wine. “I see my son is still alive, so I guess I should be thanking you.”
I smile through my nerves. “It was touch and go for a bit, but he pulled through.”
“He always does,” Cillian retorts as he sits down, still holding the glass.
“You double fistin’ tonight or what?” Crayton juts his chin toward his hand.
Cillian lets out a deep sigh. “As much as I’d love to get shit-faced, Crayton, I must play the part of the responsible adult.” Sliding the glass closer to me, he adds, “This one’s actually for your girlfriend.”
“Why the fuck don’t I get one?” Crayton leans back, folding his arms over a puffed out chest.
Cillian picks up his glass again, holding it out for me to toast as he says, “Because you’re not the one stuck dating you.”
* * *
It’s been backto back days of projects, tests, and enough homework to swim in. Except I’ve been drowning instead.
Between completing mine on time, I’ve had to barter with Crayton at every turn for him to put some effort in too.
I don’t want to go through senior year without him, and a nineteen year old getting stuck in classes surrounded by actual juniors isn’t a good look on anyone.
Let alone Crayton.
But, by the skin of my teeth I managed to get him to complete his work. My vagina is still recovering from the process but with a little more ice and patience, it’ll be as good as new to fuck again.
“What’s up, gorgeous?” Saint drops into the seat next to me, popping one of my grapes into his mouth. “You guys still hungover from this week? These teachers be brutal.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Shit. I almost had to fuck Mrs. Cavales against her desk to get out of failing my math test.”
