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Summer Lark

"There's not even any space to do anything." "Wanna bet?" Royal says playfully drunk. "Sure." I smile, no way he wins this. "If I win you'll let me help you with that ache between your legs." He whispers seductively. "And If I win, fuck I don't know, I'll hold on to it so when the time comes I can use it." I say flustered. "Fair." We shake on it, and I really hope I'm right. We get out of the car and he climbs into the backseat and sits with his back to the door so one of his legs are lying across the seat and the other is resting on the ground. "Now come here." He says waving me in. I swing my legs over the sides and climb in. "Now what smartass?" "Now come sit between my legs." I carefully sit down between his legs. He cups the underneath of my knee and spreads my legs. The moon illuminating us. "Dumbass, how are you going to fuck me like this?" "Who said anything about fucking? I said take care of your needs, not mine. And quite easily actually." He says trailing a gentle hand down my body... ---- Carmella Howard has always traveled, just how its always been. After high school she took a gap year and explored with her friend Eden. And she never stopped, she went home for a little but she doesn't get along with her parents so she left again. This time landing herself in a small beach town in New York with a grumping next door neighbor. Royal Temples has lived in this town ever since he was four. He owns two small houses on the edge of the beach, one he lives in and the other he rents out. Normally he doesn't notice the people renting the house. It's usually a small family or a young couple who either never leave the house or are always in town exploring and stuff. That was until she rented his place out and her overly friendly dog and him become best friends. ---- The 'Lark' definition I am going off of is "something done for fun, especially something mischievous or daring; an amusing adventure or escapade."

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Chapter thirteen: Carmella

You know that feeling you get when you know you're doing the right thing but you just wish someone would say 'hey who cares about the consequences, live your life to the fullest.' Yeah, well if you don't, it's a sucky feeling. I wish Royal would have spoken up and said 'hey who gives a damn that you're leaving in three months.' But he didn't so I guess he's ok with being chaste.

"Ok so who's your best friend?" I ask.

"Cole and Milo."

"Do you like one more than the other?"

"Not really."

"Yeah, I couldn't choose between any of them."

"Ok, already gone over favorite color. Ooo, what's your favorite food snack and drink?"

"Are you planning on surprising me when I'm on my period?"

"You never know."

"I will show you my dick right now if you don't believe me."

"Yeah, no thanks. Just answer the question dummy."

"Favorite food, anything you make, favorite snack, whatever's in your cupboard, favorite drink-"

"Let me guess Moxie?"

"Ew no, that's stuffs gross. I was going to say Brisk ice tea."

"You have weird taste buds."

"Opinion on honey?" I ask.

"I don't know if I just haven't had good honey but it's fucking awful."

"Thank goodness, that would have actually been a rule breaker."

"What? Don't like it either."

"Top ten most hated things."

"Damn."

"How were you when you were younger?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Were you a troublemaker, teacher's pet?"

"I always thought I was a goody goody, but my Aunt would disagree full heartedly."

"Your Aunt lives here?"

"Yeah up over the hill."

"You have to take me to meet her so she can tell me all the embarrassing stories."

"We can make a trip there soon."

"How does that make sense? Why would your aunt live here?"

"It's my mom's sister so when mom got sick Auntie Lo came and moved here with us. So when mom died dad was grieving and wanted nothing to do with this place while I wanted everything to do with it, so he left and I stayed with Auntie Lo."

"How long has it been since you talked to your dad?"

"God, I don't know. Five, six years?"

"You haven't said a word to him in five or six years?"

"I mean he has like a babysitter or whatever you want to call her. She stops by his house three times a week, brings him groceries, cooks meals for him and stuff. He thinks it's a free service. So I text her occasionally for updates to make sure he's doing ok. But I haven't had a one on one conversation with him in, yeah, five or six years."

"Sounds like you still care about him."

"Of course I still care about him, Sherlock."

"I'm just saying if you care about him, he most likely-"

"Don't say that he cares about me, he's had the same amount of time to reach out to me as I have to him."

"Just hear me out for God sake, maybe he hasn't called because he thinks you hate him."

"And maybe I do!" He hollers. His breaths going in and out raged and sharp.

"Maybe I do hate him." He says more calmly his browns pinching together.

"You put an awful lot of money into someone you hate."

"What do you want me to say Carmel?! I hate him but he's still my father, my own flesh and blood. I'm not going to just throw him into a busy street and hope he doesn't get run over."

"If I hated my dad as much as you claim to hate yours. He would have been in the street a long time ago."

"Well I'm not some heartless bitch like you!"

"I'm not fucking heartless." I say but I can already feel the effects of the sentence seeping into my body. No. You are not going to cry. My throat squeezes, and the water swells.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

"You meant it."

He meant it.

He meant it.

He meant it.

He meant it.

He meant it.

My brain echoes over and over again convincing me that he truly did mean it.

"No I didn't, I'm sorry, talking about my dad makes me feel vulnerable-"

"Just shut up!" My breaths become short lived. Getting faster and faster.

"Are you having a panic attack?"

Focus, focus on the water, the trees, the sky. Just zero in on something.

It's not working.

it's not working.

Royal picks me up, hugging me to his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm so very fucking sorry. I promise I'll do anything, just please don't hate me for the rest of your life."

That went down hill real fucking fast

Q: Sunset or sunrise?

A: I prefer sunsets, mainly bc like I said I am not a morning person.

"I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees."

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