her peers as that of my parents? Not good enough for my kid.
I’d have to keep an eye on Jaycee. Many high schoolers were outgrowing the overt bullying of younger kids, but they could be insidious, or worse, not realize how hurtful they were in their comments around others. Too self-absorbed, they’d had empathy trained right out of them. But some were mean just to be mean.
Taking my bag into the bathroom, I dropped it on the tiled floor and rummaged through my protective pads, makeup bag, and spare pair of tights. I had the sweats I’d worn to the community center but no fresh underclothes.
My sweaty sports bra had dried. Uck. I didn’t want to put that back on after I showered. Same with my underwear.
How obvious would it be to go without? I was a generous B cup, but my sweatshirt was fluffy. Good enough.
It’s not like I would cozy up to Chris close enough for him to find out I wore no underclothes.
Chapter 8
Natalia
Refreshed after my shower and free lady-balling it, I went downstairs. The savory smell of grilled bread and butter hit my nose. My mouth watered. I’d been living off grilled chicken and salad greens all week. They were fast and easy; all I had to do was buy each separate and dump them together with the right seasoning. But that didn’t stop me from occasionally wishing there was something deep fried to accompany my meal.
“Is that grilled cheese I smell?” I called, making my way to the kitchen. Two plates were on the bar. Each held a couple sandwiches cut in diagonals, just like a restaurant would do—or my nanny. Next to the sandwich were strawberries half the size of my fist and sugar snap peas.
“Holy carbs, Batman, this looks delicious.” I slid onto a stool. A can of sparkling lime water was waiting by my spot, along with a bottle of acetaminophen. He was either that sweet, or his dad-ness was showing, or both.
“I figured if you were open to grilled cheese last time, it must be a safe option. And I don’t often find good strawberries this time of year.”
He sat next to me and we both carved through the meal. By the time I was done, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. It was almost eleven and I’d had a long day.
Chris must’ve noticed my heavy sigh and long blinks. “Go ahead and take my bed for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Part of me was disappointed that I was at Chris’s and I was going to eat and go to bed. Okay, all of me was disappointed. But I had to be responsible above all.
I was standing when he said, “Don’t be creeped out if I come up to make sure you’re still breathing.”
“I don’t have a concussion.” I didn’t think I did. Wouldn’t I feel worse?
“Medic’s orders.” His gaze dipped to my chest and tore away.
No bra. Right.
My cheeks warmed as I put my dishes by the sink. “Good night, Chris.”
“Night. Holler if you need anything.”
I went back upstairs, pausing only briefly this time to admire Jaycee’s work. In his room, I crawled between his sheets and was encompassed by his scent. Fabric softener and shea-butter Suave shampoo. His aftershave was one of my favorite smells, but he must shower before bed. Was he going to use Jaycee’s bathroom?
I drifted to sleep. Hours later I woke. What time was it? The hallway light was left on and the bedroom door open. I peered at the clock on the nightstand. Two thirty in the morning. Enough time for my ibuprofen to wear off, and the acetaminophen I’d taken with supper was flagging.
Swinging my feet down, I waited for the pounding in my head to swell, but it stayed at a dull throb. The pain was only a four on a scale of ten, but it was enough to keep my achy body from falling back asleep.
I made my way downstairs, wincing each time a stair creaked. The old house’s groans weren’t as noticeable when people were up and moving around. In the middle of the night, I might as well shout “I’m awake and coming down.”
A groggy and blinking Chris rounded the corner by the landing. His hair was disheveled. My hand twitched to run through the silky strands. He wore the same lightning bolt T-shirt but had changed into black basketball shorts. I half expected a Bat-Signal somewhere on the fabric, but he wasn’t as overtly fanboy as