Free Bottom Feeder by Maria G. Cope Page A

turns on his heel.
    “ My father asked him to
take me to New York.”
    “ You mean the Don
is forcing him to
take you to New York,” Dixon corrects. I nod. “I just don’t want
you to get hurt. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
    Knowing his sister’s
experience, I have a good idea of what Jackson Monroe is capable
of. Libby was not the only girl who fell for him. I refuse to ever
be like that over a guy. I can’t be like that over any guy. He would never be
safe.
    I pull Dixon up from the sofa. “Come
on, I need to shower.”
    His protective nature makes me feel
wanted. Sometimes, though, he worries too much. I quickly decide
not to mention Hettie’s.
    “ I agreed to eat dinner
with him tonight.” Crap. Didn’t I decide not to mention Hettie’s?
Jackson seriously has me flustered. I hope I don’t say anything
crazy while I’m with him tonight.
    I unlock the door to Just Dance,
relocking it when Dixon is inside. “I’m nothing like those other
girls.”
    So what if Jackson makes me flush
bright red when he smiles, makes my heart beat erratically just by
breathing near me, and makes me want to sin today and not worry
about repenting because I will probably do it again tomorrow? None
of that means I am going to give it up to him.
    It’s not like I’m saving myself for
marriage or anything. I just don’t like regrets.
    “ I hope you remember that
when the incubus tries to suck you in.”
    I laugh.
    “ This is serious, Maddy.
There are plenty of guys who like you. Despite what you think,
Cordell’s money is not the reason.” Dixon straddles a bench while I
gather items from my locker. “I should know. I’ve been in the
locker room hearing detailed, graphic ‘what-if’ scenarios about my
best friend for years.”
    Even if that were true, I do not get
involved with anyone because of Daddy. What he does. What he is. I
cannot have anyone sucked into his trap because I want to go on
dates with someone other than my best friend.
    I love my father because loving him is
what’s expected of me. But as a person, he kind of
sucks.
    “ You have to admit,” I say
before going into the showers, “Jackson is gorgeous.”
    “ Of course he’s gorgeous!”
Dixon exclaims. “How do you think he gets away with so much
bullshit?”
    “ Out, DJ.”
    I let the hot water run over me,
unknotting my tightened muscles, scorching the latest scratches and
burns on my back and upper thighs. I let the pain overtake me until
the water turns lukewarm. I don’t welcome the pain, but I earned
it. It’s mine to do with as I please. Maybe I’m deranged, but I’ll
take the hurt so no one else has to deal with it.
    I drape my favorite Hello Kitty bath
wrap around me and begin my beauty routine of combing my hair,
slapping some SPF moisturizer on my face, SPF moisturizing lip
butter on my lips, and slathering SPF 25 cocoa butter on the rest
of my body. What can I say? I like SPF.
    I shake out the wrinkles in my dress:
a crisp-white eyelet pattern with front pintucks that fits snuggly
in the bodice. The silhouette flows at the bottom, just above the
knee. The straight neckline provides the perfect cover for my boobs
and the cap sleeves cover my scars.
    I finish the look by sliding on my
favorite pair of Grecian sandals.
     
    Dixon is sleeping across four chairs
in the lobby. I draw my foot back to kick the chair at his
feet.
    “ Don’t even think about
it,” he says, his eyes closed. I kick anyway. Before I can run, he
jumps up and throws me in a fireman’s carry.
    “ I’m wearing a dress,
DJ!”
    “ Boy shorts don’t count as
panties. You probably have panties on underneath those. And maybe
some underneath those.” Switching to an English accent, he adds,
“It would be absolutely scandalous for Miss Carrington to show off
those sexy knickers she wears.”
    I slap his back until he finally sits
me down.
    “ Come on,” he laughs.
“Let’s catch a matinee before you proceed to be enamored by