My Best Friend's Dad

by Bella Winters

  “So, when are you going to ask her out?” Kelly asked me as she jumped into bed and pulled the covers up to her waist, telephone in hand.

  I snatched the phone away and put on the night stand, a ritual we went through every night. I had read something about terrible sleeping habits if you’re on your phone before going to bed.

  “Ask who out?”

  “You know who,” Kelly squinted at me.

  “For starters, let’s agree that there are certain rules to this sort of thing,” I said. “Like, not asking someone out who is already dating?”

  “Oh, come on, she hates that guy,” Kelly protested.

  “You don’t know that,” I said, “and it’s none of our business.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “Loud and clear, thank you Sherlock.” She reached for her phone and I pushed it away. “Second of all, I have no place for another woman in my life. You take up most of that anyway.”

  “Wow, using your daughter as an excuse,” Kelly nodded. “Do they teach you that in the DEA?”

  “No, they taught me how to find someone’s weakness and use it against them,” I replied. “For example, one more snarky comment from you, and your phone is mine.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Get used to it,” I said. “Now get some sleep.”

  Kelly rolled over with a huff. I smiled and switched off the light.

  “She likes you, you know?” Kelly mumbled.

  “Phone privileges, chipmunk.”

  I closed the door to the sound of one of her usual, pre-teen groans and made my way downstairs. The lights were out on the ground floor, and I could hear the distant snores of my father behind his closed door. The man still sounds like a steam mower, I thought, remembering how his snoring had always kept me up as a kid.

  I closed my bedroom door, thankful that Samuel was sleeping downstairs, and gazed at the bed, pondering whether or not I had the energy to actually change the sheets. I was exhausted, and ever since we had gotten back home, my leg had started acting up again.

  Just get it over with.

  I sighed, pulled the dusty sheets off the bed and rummaged through the closet for fresh ones. Within twenty minutes I was undressed and lying in bed, the window above the desk open to let in the night’s breeze. It felt good not having to turn on an air conditioner, and I closed my eyes, replaying the events of the day in my head until I fell asleep.

  * * *

  For some reason, I was thinking about Janice, how she was always laughing.

  If there was one thing nobody could deny, it was that Janice had an incredible sense of humor and had no shame in laughing out loud when she was genuinely happy. It was one of those things people found incredibly charming about her.

  It was one of the things that made me fall in love with her over and over again.

  “Okay, wise guy, if you want to play it that way,” Janice said. “My sister, my mother and Britney.”

  “Wait, which one’s Britney?” I asked.

  We were both drunk, sprawled on the living room floor with wine glasses in our hands and Boyz 2 Men playing in the background. It was a Saturday, and instead of going out, we had opted for a night in watching Friends reruns and eating popcorn. It was one of the few days I had off and I didn’t want to spend it anywhere else but home, with her. Only her.

  “She’d be offended,” Janice said.

  “Britney’s the art critic, right? The one who tried to sell us that painting of a dog shitting on a stone?”

  Janice laughed and kicked at me. “That was a beautiful work of abstract art!”

  “Looked like a dog shitting on a stone.”

  “Whatever,” Janice laughed, sipping on her wine. “Yes, that’s Britney.”

  “Okay, I would definitely fuck Britney,” I started.

  “Expected.”

  I frowned at her, smiling, and continued, “Marry your sister.”

  “Gross.”

  “Would you stop interrupting me?”

  “That’s gross, and you know it.”

  “It’s the friggin’ game,” I laughed. “And I would kill your mother.”

  Janice shrugged and nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “I hate that woman.”

  “She’s not very fond of you, either.”

  I laughed, reached for the one bottle and refilled my glass. “Your turn,” I said.

  Janice leaned in, cradling her glass near her neck and blew me a kiss. “Let’s hear it, lover boy.”

  I smiled. “Me, me and me.”

  Janice bit her lower lip, raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her wine. I waited, our eyes locked, and shuddered when her foot touched the inside of my thigh and made its way up.

  “I already married you,” she said, her foot inching closer to my cock, which, usually with a mind of its own, was already stirring. “I sometimes want to kill you.” Her foot found its place between my legs and began to rub against me. I closed my eyes, feeling the alcohol race through me and dance in my head.

  Janice leaned in, replaced her foot with a hand that squeezed playfully, and whispered I my ear, “And I would most certainly fuck you.”

  “Now that sounds like a plan,” I whispered.

  Janice took my wine glass, placed it on the coffee table next to hers, and straddled me. Her lips locked onto mine as she slowly began to move against me, making me even harder, pushing her crotch against mine. My hands found their way around her waist, and slowly began pushing the hem of her shirt up.

  “You know,” Janice said, breaking the kiss but not the grinding of her hips, “your idea of staying in tonight? Brilliant.”

  I gasped, my eyes briefly closing. “I thought you might appreciate it.”

  “I do,” she whispered, her lips brushing against mine. “There’s just so much we can do, isn’t there?”

  “Got any big ideas?” I asked.

  She looked at me seductively and began unbuttoning my pants. “A few.”

  She raised her arms and let me push her shirt over her head, her breasts on full display and her nipples erect. I immediately went for them, devouring one after the other, sucking on them as she wrapped her arms around my head and brought me in closer. She moaned as my tongue swirled in circles between sucking and nibbling.

  “Just like that,” she breathed against my ear, driving me crazy. “That’s it, baby, just like that.”

  She began to grind harder against me, and with both hands on her ass, I pushed her down harder, feeling the warmth between her legs seep through the fabric of our clothes. Her body began to heat up, and I gently pushed her onto her back, kissing my way down. I pulled her pants off, slowly, kissing each inch of bare skin as I removed them, and then quickly got rid of her panties as well.

  I stood up, swaying a bit and making her laugh as I stumbled to take off my own pants. When I had finally managed to get out my clothes, she gazed into my eyes and with a finger, beckoned me to her.

  I slipped inside her easily, her warmth and wetness embracing me completely, her back arching as she moaned. My lips embraced her nipples again, and she ran her nails up and down my back, sending shudders through my whole body. I felt her clench down on me, her breath hot against my ear.

  “Love me, Alex,” she whispered.

  I began to move against her, slowly at first, only picking up the pace ever so slightly. I found a rhythm we were both comfortable with, something in between the insane lust I had for her right now, and the gentle love making we shared when we felt the world was barren except for us. I gazed into her eyes, kissed her lips, ran my hands up and down the sides of her body and felt her shudder with my touch.

  She wrapped her legs around mine, pushing her hips up to meet my thrusts, holding me close so that I was kissing her neck and she was moaning in pleasure against my ear. The feel of her naked against me made my head swirl, and I never wanted this to end. I prayed that it would go on forever.

  She rolled me over onto my back and straddled me
, guiding me inside her effortlessly as she began to move. Her hips grinded against me, her fingers raked against my chest, and she threw her head back as her orgasm shook through her. She leaned in, kissed my neck, and quickened her pace. It felt like heaven, and I doubted that I could hold out much longer.

  She felt the muscles of my body flex, and knew that I was close.

  “Come for me,” she whispered in my ear. “Don’t hold back, baby, come for me.”

  And I did. I exploded inside her with such force, my entire body shook. I held her tight in my arms, breathing her in, feeling myself pulse inside her as she clenched against me.

  We stayed like that for a long time, and when she finally rolled over and snuggled against me, she was already half asleep. I held her close, felt her heart beating against my chest, and drifted away.

  * * *

  I woke up to the sounds of footsteps on the second-floor landing, and instinctively reached under my pillow for the gun that I had forgotten was not there. The lights in the house were out, and the only illumination came from the moonlight that found its way through the bedroom window.

  Kelly appeared at my door, hair disheveled, blanket in her hand.

  “Dad?”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, frowning as she made her way into my bedroom and stood by the bed.

  “New house,” she said simply, and it was all the explanation I needed.

  I made space for her to crawl into bed next to me. She shifted and turned until she found a comfortable position, then pulled her blanket over her shoulders.

  I laid back and stroked her hair until her breathing slowed. I envied how quickly she could fall asleep sometimes, although it was a trait I wished she had had back when she was a toddler. Back when putting her down usually meant that I would fall asleep first and she would wake me up every few minutes, as if it were some kind of game to her.

  I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes. After her death, I had dreamt of Janice almost on a daily basis, and I usually woke up feeling a lot worse than when I had gone to sleep. It was no secret that I missed her, but the dreams made finding closure so much harder. Luckily, those dreams had become rarer over the years, but every now and then, that one memory would pop up. That night of wine and games and laughter, when we were our happiest. It was three weeks after that night that we had found out Janice was pregnant, and to this day, that night was the one memory that cut through me the worst.

  Kelly shifted beside me, and for the first time in a long while, I longed for Janice to be here with us. To see the beautiful girl her daughter had grown up to be. To take care of the idiot her husband had become.

  To keep the two of us from losing our minds completely and tearing at each other’s throats. To share the moments when we laughed so hard, Kelly would roll onto her back and kick her feet into the air.

  My chest clenched, and I felt tears well up behind my closed lids. I fought them back, took a deep breath, and let it out in a long and broken sigh.

  I fell asleep a few minutes later, and dreamt of nothing at all.

  Chapter 10: Jenni

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Alex Logan.

  I had tried to sleep early, grateful for the fact that Garth had not passed by as promised. On any other night, I might have been upset, angry even, although it would be fairly unlikely for him to actually do what he said he would. A part of me had expected him to show up and break the mold, only because he had seen me out with the Logans. Garth had a habit of marking his territory, and spending the night at my place would have been an opportune way to show me who wore the pants in what we were kidding ourselves into thinking was a relationship.

  Thankfully, though, Garth hadn’t passed by, and I had spent the night tossing and turning in bed before finally giving into the fact that I was not going to get any sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I’d see Alex. Hazel eyes boring into mine, strong hands holding my waist and pulling me closer to him. I imagined running my hands over what I could only imagine was a perfectly chiseled body, and I caught myself crossing my legs just to calm the heat coming from in between them.

  I had spent most of the night in front of the computer, Casper cuddled at me feet as I wrote. Chapter after chapter, the words just flowing as if I had no control over them. I was on cruise control, typing away like a mad woman, and all the time using Alex as the image for my protagonist. The sex scene I wrote was one of the hottest I had ever conceived, and I had stopped at least three or four times to cool down before continuing. In my head, Alex was the alpha male and I was the innocent damsel in distress, and although the story I was writing was borderline cliché, it hadn’t been hard imagining the two of us as the characters rolling about under the covers in my story.

  It was only when the sun had come up did I find myself crawling into bed and falling asleep, only to be woken up two hours later to the incessant ringing of my phone and Hank demanding to know where the hell I was.

  “I need to talk to you.” My father’s gruff voice startled me, and I looked up from the finance sheets I was revising from the day before. I was exhausted, eyes drooping, the numbers in front of me blurring into each other and making absolutely no sense.

  The morning crowd had already begun to gather, and most of the tables were occupied. Three waitresses were dashing back and forth between the guests and the kitchen, calling out orders and refilling coffee. It was the usual bustle of a busy day, and although I was supposed to be wide awake, keeping an eye on everything going on, I was lost in my own little world.

  Something my dad was aware of, especially after giving me a look that would have had me cowering into a corner if I hadn’t been this tired.

  “Sure, dad, what’s up?”

  Hank shook his head and nodded to the back, a gesture I knew meant he had serious business to discuss with me. I braced myself and followed him past the kitchen and the storage room, then into his office.

  The small space that was occupied by a desk and filing cabinet was barely enough for the two of us together, and I had to press myself against the wall just to close the door.

  “I’m not going to beat around the bush, Jenni,” Hank said, sitting down behind his desk. I always found it amusing how big he looked in his chair, his burly figure almost falling over the sides as he rested his arms on the desk. “I’m disappointed, and I have a feeling you know why.”

  “Sorry, dad,” I replied. “I didn’t mean to be late. I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

  “That’s not what I was talking about,” Hank said. “Although, I’m guessing both subjects are related.”

  I frowned in confusion and waited for my father to keep going. He had a habit of pausing for effect, and at times like this, that was more than just annoying.

  “Garth Liston,” Hank said.

  I felt my heart drop, knowing that the conversation I had hoped to avoid was now upon me. “What about him?” I asked, feigning disinterest.

  “Listen, Jenni, what you do on your own time, behind the closed doors of your apartment, that’s your deal,” Hank said. “I already told you how I feel about you moving out, but you made it crystal clear that this is your life, and I really don’t have a say in it.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I began, but was stopped before I could continue.

  “Not the point,” he said. “What I do want to say, though, is that your life is what you do outside the diner doors. I don’t want you bringing your private life into this diner. Especially when your private life includes that piece of scum.”

  “Dad…”

  “Don’t interrupt me,” Hank cut me short. “That kid’s bad news, Jenni. Always has been, always will be, and you’d do best to stay the hell away from him.”

  “Okay, can you slow down,” I said. “First of all, I’m not really dating him.”

  “Just fucking him, then?”

  “Dad!”

  “Stating the obvious, here,” Hank said, holding up his hands. “And believe me, I’m not at all
happy about it.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned at him. “Fine, yes, just that. I thought there might be more to it, but apparently there isn’t, and I don’t think I’m going to be seeing him anymore.”

  My father eyed me for a beat before leaning back and folding his hands on his belly, sniffing loudly as he tried to read me and see if I was pulling his leg.

  “I’m serious, alright?” I said. “What happened yesterday, that was a mistake, and I’m sorry. But this really is the end of it, and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better.”

  Hank scratched his nose, sniffed again and nodded. “Alright,” he said. “You know I’m only coming down hard on you because I love you, right?”

  I nodded, smiling a little. “Sure.”

  “And you’ll always be my little girl, so don’t even ask me to stop treating you like one, although I try not to.”

  “I know.”

  “But in the back room? Really?” Hank’s face shifted into a mask of disgust. “That’s just wrong.”

  “If it’s alright with you,” I said, “I really don’t feel like discussing my sex life with my father.”

  “Then keep your sex life out of my diner,” Hank replied. “Now go wash your face, try to at least look like you’re awake, and get to work.”