“You bet, Mom. I’m gonna be a rock chick!” she exclaims.

I roll my eyes and Royce laughs. “You,” I say pointing my finger at him. “Don’t corrupt my child in the brief time she’s in your care.”

“What!” he feigns insult. “I’m the coolest person she’ll ever meet. Anything I do will only catapult her awesome rocker status at preschool next year.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I add with a hint of smile.

“Aren’t you late?” he asks, tapping his thick buckle watch.

“Oh cheese and crackers, yes,” I huff, standing to grab my purse off the kitchen counter. “I’ll call Vivian and let her know the slight change in plan. Have a good day you guys. Love you, Liv.”

I hear her shout her goodbyes and love back to me as I race into the living room and out the front door. Echoes of giggling and snorting noises reverberate through the house as I close the door shut and sprint to my car.

I turn the key in the ignition and take one last look at the house. “I must be crazy,” I mumble shaking my head before putting the car into reverse and heading to work.

Royce

Olivia proved to be quite the handful, but in the best way. We had so much fun, but between breakfast, dress-up, our mini rock concert, and a few art projects, together we completely destroyed Carly’s house. I had to take Liv to the Ryans’ house just so I could get the place cleaned up before Carly came home and saw the mess. She would flip, and I would lose any future chance I might get at hanging out with her.

I framed the pictures Liv drew her and put them on the kitchen table, vacuumed, and dusted…the whole nine yards. Once late afternoon hit, I rushed out to get dinner and a few movies, as well as movie snacks, since I didn’t know what time she would be home. I figure I would rather be here sooner rather than later.

Spreading the Chinese food takeout boxes across the table, I lay out two plates for the two of us. I don’t know what she likes, or even if she likes Chinese food at all, but I went with it. I mean, who doesn’t like it? Besides, I ordered just about everything on the menu, so she would have a few options.

Just as I place the movies and candy on the kitchen counter, the doorbell rings and I freeze. For a solid minute, I have a mental debate on whether or not to answer the freaking door. It could be Vivian needing something for Liv. I’ve technically overstayed my invitation, so it could just as easily be some nosey neighbor checking on the creepy-looking guy prowling the house.

“Oh fuck it, Grandma down the street can call the police if she doesn’t like me,” I say to myself, dropping everything and heading to the front door.

I open the door and am immediately met with a dirty look. Apparently, Grandma is really a thirtysomething businessman in a suit.

“Who the hell are you? Where’s Carly?” the man asks.

“Well, hello there, pops. I’m Royce,” I say, attempting to be respectful, but I can already feel this conversation spiraling downward. “Carly’s not here right now. Can I help you with something?”

His lips purse at my last comment. “Who are you?” he coldly asks again. “And where is my fat bitch of a wife?”

My face heats up and my fingers ball into fists. How fucking dare Jack show up on this doorstep, and not only talk to me this way, but to be so disrespectful toward Carly. He has some fucking nerve.

I take a deep breath to calm my temper. A brawl on the front porch will definitely get the cops called, and would only hurt Carly’s divorce case. So instead of my hands, I opt for my words. I am a songwriter/poet after all.

“Like I said,” I say casually. “Carly’s not here. But as the current guy fucking your wife, I’d be happy to let her know you stopped by,” I add with a sly grin. His eyes widen, but before he can respond, I slam the door in his face. It was a lie, but it feels like a really good lie. That guy’s a douche and it serves him right to think his wife isn’t pining away for him, but instead is getting railed by some hot piece like me.

There is a brief moment of silence before an eruption…the calm before the storm. “How fucking dare you?” he roars. “You’ll pay for that. She hasn’t heard the end of this. Let her know I’ll be back.”

I glance out the front windows to see him race down the driveway to his car. He slams his car door and peels out into the street. I wave politely, but am met with a not so polite hand gesture.

“Asshole,” I mutter as I turn and head back into the kitchen to finish dinner preparations. I barely get the candy arranged before I hear the front door open and Carly’s tread through the living room. I lean against the counter, plaster a smile on my face, and wait for her to enter the kitchen, except she doesn’t come into the kitchen. I wait and wait, but nothing.

I push off of the counter and follow her path of stripped off shoes, jacket, and purse down the hallway to her bedroom. Music is filtering through the house, not my music, but I’ll let that slide.

When I finally reach her bedroom, I stand briefly in the open entrance and view the bundle of energetic movements before me. She has stripped down to her bra and panties and is dancing all over the room like some sort of teen dance party.

I cover my mouth to hide my smile. She is so free and happy; I don’t want to interrupt. I sure as hell know I shouldn’t be watching, but I can’t pull myself away to walk back down the hall to where I should be.

Reaching my hand up to knock on her bedroom door, she catches sight of me in her dresser mirror. My eyes must bulge out of my head, because Carly freaks out.

“Ahhh!” she screams. “What are you doing here?” Carly immediately reaches for a pillow on her bed to shield herself with.

“I was bringing dinner over, remember?” I offer, somewhat stammering at the fact I got caught peeping on her.

“I didn’t think you would already be here…in my house,” she persists. “Can you please at least turn around?” she begs.

“You know, I’ve seen you like this before, right? It’s not that big of a deal,” I say, trying to put her a little more at ease. Shit, I see tits on a daily basis when the band is performing. I’m continually offered a diversified portfolio of pussy; a little bra and panties action isn’t going to throw me into some tizzy.

She scowls at me and a little begging whimper escapes her lips.

Now, that does have me a little flustered. Damn, if it isn’t the sexiest fucking sound I’ve ever heard. Carly begging is a beautiful notion, and I let the scenarios play out in my head.

“Royce!” she finally hollers sternly, gaining my attention once again.

I roll my eyes and turn around so she can get dressed. “Don’t make such a big deal about this, Carly. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. It’s just girl parts.”

Dresser drawers slam open and shut hastily. “Yes, but they are my girl parts.”

“Ah, and what beautiful girly parts they are,” I tease.

I’m met with silence as she finishes putting on her clothes, and I feel almost insecure about my comment. I’m not lying about my assessment of her body; she really is truly gorgeous, but I’ve discovered that Carly is the type of girl who doesn’t believe the good things about herself. Probably from too many years with that dickweed Jack. She’s doesn’t take a compliment well, and it’s not because she doesn’t appreciate them. It’s that she doesn’t know how to let them sink into her heart.

“Let’s go, peeping Tom,” she jokes as she smacks me in the chest with her pillow and steps into the hallway.

I grip onto the pillow and let out a small chuckle. I stand frozen in the doorway though. Feasting upon the delight of her ass in yoga pants as she trots down the hall to the kitchen, I just stand and enjoy the visual splendor.