34: Double Meaning

Marie

     I hear a familiar voice as I walk up the stairs next to the bathroom at work. Jesse is here.
     I walk up to the bar itself in a very nonchalant way, say hello to Jones, and sign in to work. Then I glance up and see Erin has come to be with Bryce. Good.

     "Man, it is 'hot' today, isn't it, Bryce?" Jesse asks to my boss.
     "It is 'hot,'" he agrees. "Think I should turn the fans 'up'?" he asks, and I wonder why they stressed certain words in the way they did. I have to agree it's hot, but that is to be expected. In fact, that's why I was sure to put on this crop top and short shorts. They said it would be over a hundred Fahrenheit, and I guess that's hot.
      "How are you?" I quietly ask Erin.
      "I'm okay," she answers just as quietly. I can tell she's nervous, so I don't pester her.
      Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jesse deliberately go and sit at a table, saying something about finding cooler temperatures away from the bar.
       Great, I think sarcastically. Now he's my customer.
        I grudgingly walk over to him while he watches my legs. He's being obvious. Fine. He wants to play? I'll play.

        "Can I get you anything, Captain Gillespie?" I say with a marvelously straight face.
        I see him come up with several, possibly very varied answers from his expression. The one he chooses, however, mildly disappoints me.
        "Nothing right now, thanks. Still working on this one," he looks up and grins as he says, "How about I let you know, Marie?"
       I shrug and say, "Suit yourself." He just had to say my name! I turn around and walk over to help Jones with whatever.
       Hours go by, and I serve various patrons. Occasionally so he can't claim I was ignoring him, I ask Jesse if he needs another beer. He always says no.
       "That beer is probably way too hot now. Let me get you a fresh one," I suggest.
       "There are hotter things, I'm sure. No reason I should give up on it just because it isn't perfect."
       Hm. "Well, let me know if you change your mind."
        "I will," he says and stares at the top of his bottle.
       The sun starts to set, and Bryce tells me to go ahead and go home. I'm surprised, but he assures me it's fine since we're not that busy. As I walk down the stairs, I momentarily wonder why Jesse didn't insist he walk me home. He merely sits at his table quietly like he's brooding about something. Well, if he wants to get a fresh beer now, then he has to get it himself. I've only asked him twenty times today.

        I get about halfway to my apartment before I turn around to glance behind me. As I do, I see that Jesse is standing near the railing and facing my direction. He quickly turns away to try to make it not look like he was watching me. I find myself smiling as I continue on my way.

Jesse

     "What are you doing?" Bryce growls next to me. "Do you want me to serve her up to you on a silver platter? I let her off early for your sake."
       I answer him in a way that he won't expect. "I'm glad you sent her home. I don't think I could've taken much more of that." I turn to look at him with a serious expression. "I'm leaving her alone... as much as I can." Though the sight of her in that outfit... ungh!
      "What?" he whips out of his mouth.
      "Yep. Bugging the hell out of her didn't work."
      "After two days. Since when do you give up after only two days?"
      "Who says I gave up?" I ask him with a ridiculous grin that I can't hold back.
      "Oh there you are! I wondered where the hell my friend went." He scratches his neck a little before he says, "So, I gave my waitress the rest of the night off for nothing is what you're saying."
      "No. I couldn't take much more of her prancing around in front of me in that getup." I suddenly remember the beer in my hand. "I need a cold one, this thing is flat as piss."

------

    The next day, I'm sitting at the counter at work trying to make sense of some irritating figures before the auditors pay me a visit when one of those sudden downpours hit. Five minutes ago, it was perfectly sunny, but now there's a huge storm raging.
      Well, that's going to drive the customers away, not that I had any anyway.

      All of a sudden, the door bursts open and in walks Marie of all people, drenched to the bone. Her wet clothes stick to her in all the right places, and I look my fill while she acts like she's getting water out of her ear. Then, I quickly plaster a smile on my face.
      "Marie!" I say like I'm still as happily surprised as I was a few seconds ago. "Hell of a weather change, huh?" I ask after she's whipped her head around in my direction. I'm... talking about the weather. I've been reduced to talking about the weather.
       "What are you doing here?" she asks.
       "I manage this place. What? You thought I didn't work?" Okay, this is better. Now I'm teasing.
       "I..." she stammers around, "didn't think about it actually." Ow.

     "Does it always do this? This all sunshine and then the rain comes without warning?" she asks, indicating the storm outside.
      "Sometimes. Especially if the day is really hot," I ever so slightly stress the 'h.' I love words like hot that have another meaning. "You're all wet." I say dryly. Another great word.
     "Yes, I'm soaked," she says in a mildly irritated fashion, and it's all I can do to keep from laughing.
     "Well, what are we going to do about it?" I can't resist saying as my imagination tortures me with different possibilities.
      I think she finally starts to catch on when her eyes narrow ever so slightly before she says, "I'll put up with it, I guess. Sometimes that's just what you have to do with annoying things."
      Arg. "Well, you don't have to. I sell a little bit of everything, and I can give you a discount. That's what I do for my friends, and we're friends, right?" I offer, not really wanting to have her change clothes, but I also can't help with the whole 'friends discount' thing. Hm. I don't sell underwear.

      "I suppose so," she says, and I'm momentarily confused as to whether or not she means we're friends or she'll buy clothes. I don't get a chance to make her clarify as she marches to the part of the store where we have a few things like touristy shirts and shorts. She quickly picks up the first shirt and pair of shorts she finds in her size. Then she looks at me in confusion like she doesn't know what to do now.
      I smile kindly and say, "Let me just have the tags. I'll ring 'em up and you can pay for them after you've changed. Let me get you a bag for your wet clothes." She hands me the tags, and I do as I said I would, wondering where her underwear will end up. Will she leave them on or take them off? If she leaves them on, then there's no point in putting on dry shorts.
       She doesn't take long to change, and when she comes out, her shorts are completely dry. She buys the clothes she has on while the rain continues. It only just now occurs to both of us that if she goes out in that again, she's wasted her time getting dry clothes. I stand here behind the counter and watch her to see what she'll do now.

        "How long does this usually last?" she asks.
        "It's rain," I say with a shrug. "It could be five minutes; it could keep raining into the night."
        A look of horror all of a sudden crosses her face. "No! I left my windows open at home!" She darts for the door.
         I quickly stuff away the irritating paperwork and say, "Hold up a sec! You're the only customer I've had all day, and this rain will keep them away anyway. I'll close up and drive you over there. You'll make it there faster, and you won't get soaked again." You can't argue with that. I stuff the register printout with the paperwork and walk around the counter with my keys in my hand.
       She lets out a little huff before she says, "Fine."

       We pull up in front of her place and she says, "Oh no!" She'd left her windows very open, and I haven't a doubt her apartment is getting rain all in it.
        "I hope you have a lot of towels," I say and race after her in the rain.
        She glances at me for a second like she's surprised I got out of the car, but then she focuses on unlocking her door. We both dash in, and she empties her linen closet while I go around and close all the windows.
        "Here," she says as she throws me a towel to start mopping up the water. I head to the one behind the couch and start trying to wipe up as much of the water as I can.
        "You need a dehumidifier," I say helpfully. "I think I have one somewhere."
        "What?" she asks like she can't hear me from where she is in the bedroom. I've done all I can do where I am, so I go and walk to her to say what I said again.

        However, once I'm in there I see that all she's doing is moving the water around. "No, not like that. You're not giving the rag a chance to soak up the water." I walk around her bed to kneel down next to her to show her what I mean. "Here. Like this." I watch as the towel sucks in the moisture.
        We're both crouched here on our knees, staring at the towel like it's the most fascinating thing on the planet for a minute or so when a loud crack rents the sky. A lightning bolt hits just outside the window on the lamppost on the opposite side of the street. We both make little scared noises and jump up to our feet.
       Our heads turn towards each other at about the same time, and when we realize how scared the other one was, we both start laughing. Then she looks down a little and realizes she'd grabbed fistfuls of my shirt in her fear. She, embarrassed, lets go and makes a small attempt to smooth out the wrinkles she made, not realizing how her hands press and rub my chest.
       I don't move a muscle, watching her eyes. I said I'd leave her alone... but she's so close! Once she's finished trying to fix my shirt, her eyes finally look up at mine and then widen as, I guess, she discovers how close we are. I want so bad to kiss her, but I wait and see what she'll do, wondering if she'll back away. She doesn't, so I move in a little more before pausing in a questioning way. I do this again, and she just stands her ground. I feel like it's been ages since the lightning strike across the street while I slowly cross this impossibly-huge distance to her mouth, pausing again very close to her.

       She still doesn't back away, so I close the tiny space left to her lips and finally press mine to hers while she stands there in silent shock. I don't know why she's shocked, but that's the emotion I get from her. Didn't I make this obvious? I think as I pull back a little and then kiss her again. This time she responds, and she shivers a little while I continue to coax more of a response out of her. Then she tilts her head some to the side and kisses me back. I find that during all this, my arms have wrapped around her, cradling her to me. Oh yes, Marie.

     I decide to take it a step further. They don't call it French kissing for nothing, right? Her hands lightly rest on my arms while I taste the inside of her mouth and caress her tongue with mine. She lets out a shaky exhale through her nose, and I can feel her shaking in my arms. I want to really go crazy and just kiss her until we're both gasping for air, but I don't because I can sense she really is scared. Why are you afraid of me? I think as I back off a little more, and she closes her mouth.
      She pulls away from me and says pleadingly, "Go. Just go. Please. Leave."
     What? "Why?" I ask quietly as I gently touch her lovely face. I'm not going anywhere without some kind of explanation.
       "Please. I can't. I just can't," she answers me by not answering me.

       "I have feelings for you, Marie, and I'm going to guess you feel the same about me. Why are you asking me to leave?" I say and ask, laying all my cards on the table, no more double meanings.
        "Jesse, you know why. I just can't."
       "All I'm asking is whatever you can give," I say, and I mean it, remembering my 'just hanging out' kind of date offer. I keep a light hold of her. I know she could break this hold if she really wanted to, but right now I doubt she will. This isn't the tough, black belt Marie I'm seeing. What I'm seeing is a very frightened almost-child.
      "I can give friendship. That is all."
       Bullshit, I think and debate kissing her again just to prove her wrong. Instead, I go out on a limb to ask what I'd thought earlier, "Why are you afraid of me?"
      "I'm not afraid of you!" she argues, and tough Marie is back in full force. She forces my arms off her and takes a step back.
      "Well, if you're not, then why are you asking me to leave?" I growl as I take a step forward.
      "Because this is my apartment!" She keeps backing up.
      "That's not a reason!" I keep moving forward.
      "Fine! Because you kissed me-"
      "You kissed me back."
      "- and this is getting out of hand."
      "Out of hand?" I ask. "How is this out of hand?"
      "I don't want this," she says and now stands in front of the entryway into her kitchen.
      "You could've fooled me," I say, and she gets quiet. We've both stopped in our tracks, staring at each other. I know I did not imagine her kissing me back, and I'm angry she won't own up to her feelings.
      "I need time," she finally says, and I know she's right.

       Damn it! "How much time are we talking here? Weeks? Months? Years? A decade? Give me some kind of timetable for you to need to dump all this shit you're carrying around with you. Or, how long are you planning on nursing your problems and giving them strength until that's all that you are?"
       "Get out," she says icily.
       "Fine," I snap and storm out of her house.

      When I get home, I look over to the passenger-side floorboard and see the bag that has Marie's wet clothes in it. She must've left it when she was more worried about dashing out of the car to get inside and mop up the water. I shrug and pick it up. I suppose I'll go ahead and wash the clothes before giving them back to her so they don't mildew... though why I want to do something as thoughtful as that for her beats me.
     As I pull the clothes out of the bag, I'm reminded of how they'd molded themselves around her, and the memory tortures me.
      She did take off her panties because here they are, I think and smile a goofy grin. And they're wet, I think now as I get a kick out of my double meaning.

------------------------------------

"But... what about what happens with the whole Bryce/Erin/Sean thing? Did they let Sean out? What did he do once they did if they did?" you ask? I'll get to that in the next chapter. I just wanted to put the Jesse/Marie bit all together. :)

33: Simply Complicated

Adult content

     How on earth am I going to tell Bryce about kissing Sean yesterday? I don't think he's going to be as accepting of this as he was of that time with Jesse. I kissed Sean back. That's a major difference. Small tears escape my eyes as I lie here in Bryce's arms, the early-morning light only just recently making an appearance in his bedroom.

      "Hey, what is it?" he asks me quietly while wiping away my tears with his thumbs. I jump a little because I didn't realize he was awake.

    I can't look him in the eye. Be brutally honest if necessary, he'd said. "I have to tell you something."

      He takes a deep breath and says, "Okay."

      "Yesterday, um, last night..." I take in a deep, shuddering breath.

      "Yes?" he asks expectantly.

      "Well, obviously, he showed up and scared the hell out of me. He told me he'd hired a detective or something to find me. Then, I don't know, he started up on all his apologies and stuff that I've heard before." My heart starts racing in my chest. "Of course, I didn't believe him, and he wouldn't let go of me, and he kissed me, and I ... kissed him back." I can't look at his expression. I just can't.

       He's quiet for about half a minute before he says, "But then you ran away to here."

       "Yes."

       "When, exactly?"

       I feel like I have to explain myself more, so I take a very roundabout way of answering his question. "Um, well, I was remembering the first time he asked me out, and I hardly even realized what I was doing until I'd done it." I quickly add, "Once I did, I started trying to get away from him, but I'd dropped my keys." After a very short pause, I exclaim, "My keys! He still has my keys!"

      "Calm down. We'll get them back."

      "Oh Bryce, I'm so sorry!" I blurt out.

      "Shh!" he says as he continues to try to get me to calm down.

      I let out a pathetic, hiccuping cry and say, "I love you. I feel awful I let him get to me for just a second. I know him, and I know he's gonna take what I did and run with it."

      "Erin, calm down. No, I'm not happy you kissed him back, but that can't be helped now. The important thing is you stopped doing it. What happened to make you drop your keys?" he asks, trying, I guess, to get me to continue with my story, that or change the subject.

        "It was when he first wouldn't let go of me. Well, then...after...he picked them up and started pulling me to my house. I started yelling and then Mr. Strong moved his eyes in such a way as to tell me to run. I don't know what I was thinking when I ran here since no one was home. I just ran. I heard what I guess now was Mr. Strong punching Sean after Sean yelled at me to get back here."

       "You ran here without thinking," he says, almost like he's talking to himself as well.

       "Yes."

       Bryce pulls me close, and I cry while he strokes the back of my head. He intermittently squeezes me as goodness knows what runs through his head. I'm just so happy he's not pushing me away in disgust.

      "Erin, don't cry anymore."

      "I'm so sorry," I whisper.

      Bryce makes a slight growling noise and rolls me onto my back before he says, "Haven't I told you before that it's hard to not kiss someone back when they're kissing you? The bastard played upon whatever emotion he could dredge up in you before you could come to your senses."

      "Why does there have to be anything to dredge up?" I ask with an angry sniff.

      Bryce doesn't answer me. Instead, he stares wordlessly down at me with a hungry expression in his eyes. His arms shake a little like he has trouble holding himself up, which I know can't be the case. I figure out another probable cause when he quickly crashes into me, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me like his life depends on it.

       He groans into my mouth, and I feel him reach for the bottom of my shirt. In about two seconds, the shirt comes off to be replaced by his eagerly-claiming hands that try to touch every inch of exposed skin all at once. Once again, I'm shocked to discover how quickly he can remove my bra. How come I can't get it off that fast? I decide not to even consider the possibility that he's removed more bras than I have over the course of our lives. At any rate, I'm distracted by his mouth trying to devour my breasts while I gasp for air.

    Since his mouth has taken over for his hands, they find employment elsewhere with the unbuttoning of my jeans. In an almost-annoyed exhale, he pushes himself up, hooks his hands on the waistband of my jeans and underwear, and pulls everything down as quickly as he can manage.

       "Birth control, right?" he asks in a matter-of-fact tone as he reaches to remove his own pants as well.

       "Yes," I answer, sitting up a little because I'm slightly miffed he wouldn't let me have the chance to remove his pants myself. He wasn't wearing underwear underneath.

     "Okay," he says, parts my legs, and pushes me back against the mattress. He quickly drives himself inside me while I let out a small cry.

        He waits a few seconds to wordlessly make sure I'm okay before he almost roughly pushes in still further. He pauses for half a beat before beginning with his circular, almost elliptical motion that makes me curl my toes while my nails dig into the flesh of his back.

       I groan and begin to counter his movements, bringing on still more pleasure. He lets out a quick exhale when I make sure to tighten myself around him, and I hear him moan his appreciation. Very soon however, I do this uncontrollably in response to the quickly-building tension forming in my lower abdomen.

       I can't help it. I can't keep myself from loudly crying out from how fucking good Bryce makes me feel. My back arches, and somehow I manage to rest the top of my head on the mattress. All the while, Bryce refuses to let up on the intensity of his blessed movements.

      "Shit, Bryce!" I yell in an almost-whisper.

      "That's right," he says as if to ask, 'who else?'

      Another moaning cry escapes my lips before my body convulses into his. He moans and jerks his hips forward again and again to mercilessly make me experience each wave of insane bliss until my body will no longer respond.

      I'm dimly aware of the fact that I'm shaking and whimpering quietly while he patiently waits for me to recover.

      "More?" he asks into my ear after, I'm guessing, a few minutes go by.

      I can only continue to whimper instead of responding another way.

      "Doesn't my beautiful Erin want more?" he asks again, and the laughter in his voice tells me how much he enjoys that he's turned me into this quivering ball of flesh.

      He moves against me once more, and I cry out from the unexpected, intense pleasure of it.

      "Oh," he says like he's been let in on some great secret, "she does." Then he picks up where he left off.

      "Oh shit!" I hear cried out, and it takes me a few seconds to realize I was the one to say it.

      How can it be that I'm this built up already? I wonder as Bryce slows down but adds more pressure. He continues like this, and I picture myself on some small boat with him. The waves lap up against the sides of the boat with every controlled movement of his hips.

      "So ... good," he loudly whispers.

      "This is torture," I whine up to him.

       That roguish grin that I love spreads across his face as he says, "Yes, it is." Then his lips attack mine while his hips maintain their slow tempo.

      When his lips release me, I scream, "Bryce, please!" I surprise myself by how loudly I yell.

      The smallest of laughs escape him before he says, "Please what? Please stop? Hm, no I don't think that's it. Please...make you come again? Well, as my beautiful Erin desires."

     "Oh-hohohohoho," I cry out again when he picks up the tempo with a sense of purpose. After screaming his name several more times, I finally succumb to his body's demands on mine.

      "You're exquisite, Erin," I hear from what sounds far away but is actually spoken quietly right into my ear. I'm unable to really respond because I'm too busy trying to find myself.

        He doesn't wait for me to recover before he starts up again. His movements this time around are a little more selfish, but I'm so worked up that it no longer matters.

       All of a sudden, he holds my hips on him while he works himself to where he sits on his ankles. Hands still on my hips, he pushes and pulls us apart and together, apart and together, again and again while gradually increasing the tempo.

     Then he moves to stand next to the bed and hold my hips against him while my shoulders, neck, and head rest upon the mattress. I don't know where to put my legs, and he answers my unspoken question by pulling my legs up over his shoulders.

      Oh.

      The simple act of bringing my legs nearly together while continues to fuck me brings on a new experience, one that's so good that I cry out again. Bryce swiftly and repeatedly pounds himself into me, and my legs pull off his shoulders as we both come simultaneously. I watch his face as he continues to milk himself with my body. He wears a small scowl, and I wonder why.

      Bryce slowly pulls himself out of me and lays my hips down on the mattress before crashing face-first into it next to me. The only movements he makes are slow, breathing motions.

       I lie here next to him, not quite sure what to do with myself. Bryce has gone distant. I can feel it. Self defense from what I told him earlier? I start lightly running my fingertips up and down his back, and I smile when he moans. Maybe I'm imagining it.

       He sits up, lightly kisses the tip of my nose, and tells me he's going to take a shower before swiftly getting up and closing the door behind him when he's entered his bathroom. Maybe not.

Bryce

     I think my heart is breaking again.

     She kissed him back. She didn't mean to, but for a few seconds, she did.

      I can't let Erin see me like this, I think as I silently sob in the shower.

     What I just did was not making love. It was sex. Just sex. I needed it. I don't quite understand myself, but I know I needed it after what she told me. I just fucked the hell out of the woman I love as some jealous way to claim her. 

      That's it, I think now with a possible answer.

      He got to her. He found her, and he got to her.

       I only had her for a fucking week!

       I want to punch the wall, but I don't want to alarm Erin.

      No, I don't want to alarm her, I want to fuck her again, I think as I grab hold of the handlebar inside the shower to hold myself back. What the hell is wrong with me?!

       I take a deep breath, shove my face in the pouring water, and just focus on that water as it pours on my face. Nice, hot, wet water.

       Shit!

       I take another deep breath and look up at the ceiling.

      She ran here automatically. That speaks volumes, Bryce. This is her subconscious's haven. I'm her subconscious's haven.

       She said she... I almost think 'doesn't love him,' but now I second-guess myself. ...loved someone who doesn't exist. I bet he does to some extent.

       The key here is it's in the past! She went looking for me and found me on the beach to start a relationship with me just like I wanted.

       So now I just have to keep reminding her why she did that ... and not by doing what I just did.

       I turn off the shower and wrap a towel around my waist before shaking my head and almost laughing at myself and my display of modesty. I guess it would make her more comfortable. Then I dash out of the bathroom to find Erin curled up into a ball, crying. Shit.

       "Erin? Oh god, Erin, what's wrong?" I say as I sit on the bed next to her curled up form, lightly running my fingers through her hair.

        "I don't know!" she cries as her thin frame racks with sobs.

        I bet I do.

         "Come here," I request and pull her up into my lap. Her naked body tempts me, but I refuse to allow myself to seduce her again. Well, this soon. I encourage her to rest her head on my shoulder, and I try not to look down.

       "I'm sorry, Bryce."

       Oh please don't start with that again.

       "Stop. I know," I say and run my fingers through her hair again.

       "Are you mad at me?" she asks the question I dreaded.

       Am I?

      "No, of course not." Liar. "It's just... I expected... Why so damn soon?!" I exclaim and crush her to me.

      "Huh? You expected what? For me to kiss him?"

       "No. For him to find you."

       "You knew he would? But Meredith..." Her voice trails out.

       She just doesn't get it! "Do you really think he gives a shit about her? I'm guessing here, but I bet she was just something to prove... to say he could." I look into those gorgeous eyes of hers and have a sudden insight to what the bastard was thinking. "He would've probably cheated on you eventually." He didn't like the hold she had over him.

        I love her, and the hold she has over me scares the shit out of me, but I would never cheat on her. I have nothing more to prove to the world other than to show that I can make it: fall in love and stay together.

       I torture myself with my next question, "So, now that you know he probably really loves you... as much as he's capable of... does that change your mind?" Why do I do this to myself?

    "Change my mind?!" She looks mad now. "Change my mind that he's a lying, cheating sack of shit?! No! Don't ask me stuff like that!" she lightly screams and gets out of my arms. "Why don't you believe me when I tell you I love you?! Why do you keeping asking me stuff like that?! What can I do to get rid of this insecurity?!" She starts slapping me from where she sits on the bed next to me.

        "Stop it!" I yell and grab her wrists to stop her from slapping me because it's annoying. "Why? What would you do if all of a sudden Ashley came back claiming she loved me and wanted me back, throwing herself at me and I happen to kiss her back for a moment?! I have a lot of good memories too!" She starts crying. Shit. "Erin-"

       "I knew it. You said be brutally honest, and you're not telling me how what I did upsets you. It's only fair though. I'm fighting those good memories and trying to hide it from you when you could help me," she lets out in a defeated manner.

      No. I can feel it around us: the 'this isn't working so let's break up' feeling. We're both silent, wondering if the other one will say it.

       She starts crying some more. "Bryce, I don't-"

       "No," I say firmly, grab her, and keep her from finishing her terrible sentence. "No," I plead into her lips. She won't stop crying.

       "You misunderstand," she gets out when she manages to jerk free. I pause and wait for her to continue, praying that I do misunderstand. "I don't want to hide anything from you, but this is hard to share this with you of all people. To say that I have lingering feelings for him and knowing it'll hurt you to say it. No, I don't love him, but he's not gone either. I don't want him back. I love you, Bryce. I really don't understand why you refuse to believe me. Just please please please don't give up on me like I thought you were about to do."

       We sit here quietly for a few seconds before I say, "I'm not making it any easier, am I?" I have an impossible time of forgetting the 'lingering feelings' bit. She told me something like that last weekend. It's just been a wonderful week for me, well mostly, and I'm shocked I fell in love so fast.

        "This isn't fair to us to be tested so soon."

         "I'm not giving up either. I thought you were about to break up with me," I admit.

        "Took me a minute to figure that out," she almost laughs.

        She's still naked in my bed, I think uncontrollably.

         "Erin, you need to get dressed," I say in as even a tone as I can manage.

         "Why?" she asks coyly.

         I take a deep breath and stare at the ceiling again as I answer, "Because you have to go to the station to give them your story and get your keys. And it's never a good idea to make them wait."

     We go to the station, Erin tells them what she saw, and they give her her keys that were in his possession. I'd worried for a minute that they were going to give her a hard time about it, but all she had to do was fill out a little paperwork. Then we go to visit Julian in the hospital (he looks like crap) before heading over to Pam's to pick up Adele. At Pam's, Erin insists Adele and I go somewhere just the two of us while she stays with my sister. So, I take Adele out for snow cones at the nearby park, still not wanting to put too much distance between Erin and me.

      "What really happened last night, Daddy?" she asks me while we look for a dry place to sit down.

      I sigh as I sit on a bench and decide I'd better just go ahead and tell her because she'll get it out of me eventually anyway. "Erin's ex-fiance found her and tried to do some bad things to her."

       "Like what?" she asks, and I inwardly groan.

       "Let's just leave it at bad. He didn't want to kill her or anything, just bad."

       "She was going to get married?"

       "Yes, but he cheated on her. That's why she broke up with him."

       "Are you going to marry her?" she asks innocently, and grape-flavored ice goes up my nose.

       I use the time it takes to clean myself up to figure out how to answer her. "Maybe someday."

        "So far, I like her. She's quiet, but that's not bad. She isn't trying to get rid of me either I've noticed. That's good too."

        When did she start thinking so grown up like this?

         "What?" she asks with an annoyed expression when she sees me looking at her with that thought in my head.

        "I'm glad you like her. I do too."

        "Duh, Daddy. You'd have to be blind not to notice that," she says, and I burst out laughing.

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By the way, I'm furious with what Photobucket has done. I mean FURIOUS. I've been using their site to upload the pics for title pic making purposes among other things. I liked their editing program. Now, they've gone and changed everything and I hate it.

Just my little rant... move along. :)