Chapter 9
Nine
Sadie
“ Y ou’re what?”
My mother is standing in the doorway of my bedroom, watching me as I toss my essential clothing into a box.
“I’m moving out,” I answer. “I found a place to rent, and it’s closer to work.”
“And you’ll have a roommate?” she asks, her voice rising in suspicion.
“Yeah. He’s my friend’s brother-in-law. He’s trustworthy. Don’t worry.”
As I glance over my shoulder at her, I notice the scrutinizing way she has her lips pursed and her brow tightened. She’s not so sure about this, but then again…I’m twenty-five. I’m far too old to be living at home as it is.
No, I don’t tell her the part about how this man I’m living with is also my English professor.
And no , I don’t tell her the part about how I’m also with child—and will remain with child. I figure one dose of big news a day is more than enough for my quaint suburban family’s life.
“If you’re sure…” she says uneasily .
When I hear footsteps down the hall, I tense, waiting for Jonah to appear next to my mother. Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as he stares with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.
“Where are you going?” he signs, the movement of his hands angry and urgent.
My shoulders sag as I turn toward him. With my mouth twisted in regret, I reply, both out loud and with sign language, “I’m renting a room in the city.”
“Why?” he asks. The look of betrayal on his face hurts. Part of me knows that Jonah is just being a sarcastic, overdramatic teenager. He thinks it’s fun to overreact to everything.
But part of me also knows that being so close as siblings has come from living together for so long, and moving out feels like leaving him behind.
“Because I’m too old to live at home,” I reply. “And I found a great place to rent near work. The guy who owns it is going on some work trip to England, so I’ll practically have the place to myself.”
Jonah rolls his eyes and makes a waving motion as if to blow me off. I pick up a dirty sock and toss it at him as he tries to walk away. He flips me off before laughing and jogging down the hallway toward the kitchen.
“He’ll be all right,” my mom says once he’s gone.
“I know he will,” I say without looking her in the eyes.
“I was starting to think he was going to move out before you,” she says with a laugh.
“Very funny,” I reply, rolling my eyes. I slam the box down with a huff. “Well, you’re in luck now because I’ll be out of your hair, and you and Dad can focus on Jonah and all of his accomplishments.”
“Now, don’t be like that,” my mom replies with a tsk.
“It’s fine,” I argue, starting another box, this time throwing things I need like my laptop and chargers in. “I’ve been a mooch for long enough. I should have moved out years ago, and you’re right. I’m sure Jonah will be out the door the day after he graduates, probably with some sports scholarship at an Ivy League school, and I’ll be working in some shitty nightclub.”
I feel her approach, putting her arms around me from behind. “Stop pouting. We’re proud of both of our kids.”
“Sure,” I groan.
My mom doesn’t stick around to argue, and I know I am just being whiny and overdramatic, but it’s hard not to feel the sting of her little comments.
I will show them how capable I am. I’m going to move out and get my life together and somehow figure out how to do all of that with a kid on the way.
My toiletry bag lands with a thunk at the bottom of the box, and I freeze as that thought washes over me—a kid .
God, what am I doing? Am I making a mistake?
I’m not a mother. I don’t know the first thing about raising a child, and for some reason, just because some guy I barely know didn’t wrap his dick, I think I’m ready to bring one into the world and raise it alone.
Before my thoughts can spiral, I close my eyes and hear Luke’s calming tone in my head.
No buts. If that’s what you want, then that’s the right answer. You’ll figure the rest out.
God, I hope he’s right.
I manage to fit everything I need into three boxes. I cram them into the back of my Civic and hug my parents and brother goodbye. And that’s it.
I drive away from the safety net of my childhood house and straight over to Luke’s house. I mean, it’s not like I’m going far. And I promised to come back once a week to check in, but as far as sprouting wings and leaving the nest goes, this is nothing more than a gentle shove without a big drop.
As I pull into the spot he told me to park in, I take a deep breath and ask myself if this is crazy. Am I moving too fast? Should I have given this some more thought? Weighed the pros and cons? Taken at least two or three days to decide ?
Would it have made a difference?
Because I’m not only moving in with him. I’m basically handing my life over to him. I’m allowing him full control. He’s going to tell me what to do, and I’m going to hate it. But it’s what I need. Isn’t it?
It’s not like I’m naive to the benefits of a full-time Dom/sub dynamic, but it doesn’t matter because we’re not ready for that yet. There needs to be so much more trust between us before we go that far. And, as far as I know, Lucas doesn’t know a thing about the full-time lifestyle. No matter how much I can see it intrigues him.
What if I get my life together, and it makes Jax look at me as more than just a quick fuck? What if he sees how good we’d be together and things actually work out between us?
One happy little family.
I just have to get through the rest of the semester with Dr. Control Issues, and everything will be fine.
Leaving the boxes in the trunk, I climb out of the car and head up to Luke’s house. I knock on the door and a moment later, he answers. Like last night, he’s in more casual attire—light jeans and a flannel button-down. It’s annoying how handsome he is. Like, he’s too much of a dickhead to be so hot. Too uptight. Too rude and selfish. Hotness should really be reserved for guys with fun personalities and laid-back attitudes.
“Come in, Miss Green,” he says, opening the door for me.
“I left my boxes in the car,” I reply.
“I’ll get them,” he says as he closes the door behind me. “But let’s get situated first. Have a seat on the bench and take off your shoes. I don’t like shoes in my home, so consider that the first rule.”
It’s a little early in the arrangement to be rolling my eyes, but here I am. Instead of sitting on the bench like he said, I just slip my Chucks off without even touching them. Then I kick them over to the corner near the bench.
Luke glares at me as his nostrils flare. “Line them up against the wall, Miss Green.”
“Oh, we’re starting already?” I quip back with a smirk. He doesn’t find it funny. “Okay, okay, relax.” With a huff, I line my sneakers up against the wall next to his brown leather shoes. They look so out of place together.
After putting my shoes where he wants them, I turn back and place my hands on my hips. “So, what other rules should I know about? I have a feeling there will be more.”
“Yes,” he replies dryly before moving into the house. I follow, noticing how he’s not the same relaxed, drunk version of himself he was last night. I might need to get him to drink more. I liked him better with whiskey in his bloodstream.
“I don’t like food in the living room,” he says. “Clean up after yourself in the kitchen and throw away food when it’s expired. You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen, even if it’s mine. Don’t leave anything in the sink and wash and put the dishes back after you use them.”
“Sheesh,” I groan as I stand behind him with wide eyes. “Will I get punished if I break the rules?” I ask playfully.
He turns, leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed. “Do you want to be punished, Miss Green?”
My brows shoot upward as I fight a smile. Just the image of Lucas Goode bending me over his knee and spanking me like a child makes me laugh…while also making my stomach flutter with something I don’t want to think about right now.
“Okay, but seriously,” I say as I hop up onto the counter. “I’m giving you control so you can help me figure my shit out, so how’s this going to work? You want me to crawl around or fetch you coffee? You can pet my head and call me a good girl.”
His expression turns to stone as he stares at me. After a moment, he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Crawl around? That’s not what we agreed to, and that’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
“Then, what did you have in mind?” I ask .
Ignoring my question, he narrows his eyes. “Is that what you thought this was? I mean…that’s what you came for?”
I shrug. “I don’t know what I came for, honestly. But when I’m around you…” My voice trails as our eyes meet, and I decide to choose my next words very carefully. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. “You have a way of making everything simple. You know what you want, and you know how to ask for it. I need that. I need crystal-clear expectations. Just…give me the chance to do something right.”
Slowly, he nods. “I think I can do that.”
“Thanks,” I reply, a small smile creeping across my face.
“Start by getting off my counter,” he says coldly.
My smile vanishes as I hop down and stand face to face with him.
“Good girl,” he replies, the frigid, gravelly tone of his voice sending chills all the way down to my toes.
I can’t hide my smirk now, but for the first time since I showed up, neither can he.