Page 46 of The Write Off

She steps back, pushing her bangs out of her face. “Like a real one? Can you do that?”

“Of course. We can print several copies and you can give them to whoever you want.”

She dries her eyes on the back of her hand, rebounding the way only a child can. I leave her to start on plans on the couch while I go tidy up the kitchen. Travis doesn’t look up from his project when I enter. He appears to be making decent progress on the ship.

“She doesn’t even remember him, not really.” He stares at the pieces he’s fitting together like a well-engineered puzzle.

“She remembers that she misses him. And that’s enough. What about you?” It’s always been a challenge to get him to talk about his dad. Both Shannon and I have tried many times, but it always ends with him shutting us out.

“Hard to miss someone who was never around.”

My brother was a lot of things to many people. The number of people who reached out to me after he died to tell me how he’d gone above and beyond for his patients was staggering. Medicine was his true calling and he was exceptional at his job. But in giving so much to the people entrusted to his care, at the end of the day he had little left for his family. The reality was that he was a much better physician than a father or husband.

“You know, Travis–”

“I don’t want to talk about him, Uncle Logan. I just want to build my spaceship.”

“I thought it was a pirate ship.”

“It’s a pirate spaceship.”

I pick up the box and am shocked to discover that is indeed what he is building. “Why would anyone design this? Who needs a pirate spaceship?”

He gives me a look of complete pity, like I must be lacking intelligence to ask such a foolish question. “Space pirates.”

Chapter 23

Rilla

“Can I help you find anything?”

Could you help me locate my marbles? I seem to have lost them recently.

“Hi. Yes, I’m looking for a dress that walks the line between classy and total smokeshow. Something that says I’m sophisticated but also a bit of a slut. Preferably in black.”

If I’ve flustered the saleswoman, she’s doing a great job at hiding it.

“I’ll start a fitting room for you,” she says brightly, seemingly unfazed by my request.

I’m not a big fan of shopping and I absolutely detest trying on clothes at stores. I know that I don’t need to buy something new to wear for my date with Logan. After all, he seems to like me whether I’m in torn jeans or an oversized jersey. But this is my first real date if you don’t count our other three. And if I want to commemorate that milestone with a new outfit, I damn well will.

I’ve had my fair share of interest over the years and not just from patrons at the bars I’ve worked who’ve had too much to drink. I’ve been asked out several times by coworkers, friends from school, and even a sex pal or two that decided they wanted more. They were mostly good guys and I really liked a couple of them, but I never was able to see myself wanting to be in a relationship with them.

I don’t know why it feels different with Logan; it just does. He doesn’t just look at me, but sees me for all I am and everything I’m not. It’s nice being seen and not merely viewed. Besides, the thought of him bickering with anyone else sends me into a jealousy-fueled rage that could level a city block.

Twenty minutes later, I leave the boutique wearing the first of the three dresses I tried on. It’s not overly comfortable. The black lace is kind of itchy and it’s a bit too snug. But it shows off my long legs and it makes my tits look phenomenal.

I can handle a bit of discomfort. Especially considering I don’t plan on wearing it for long.

This day felt like it stretched on for weeks. After spending several hours unpacking the last of my things, I am officially moved into apartment 2C. I had such a strong sense of accomplishment as I broke down the final box and looked around the first space I can call my own. I really like it here. Even if my neighbor can be a major pain in my ass.

Josh came by twice and both times I pretended to not be home. If he intends to apologize to me for what he said at Maggie and Callum’s, I’m not ready to hear it. And if he doesn’t want to apologize, if he wants to continue to criticize my “reckless” life choices, I don’t want to go to prison for manslaughter.

I’m nervous enough about my date with Logan; I don’t need my brother getting in my head and making things worse.

The Uber driver that takes me to Logan’s condo sings along to the radio the entire way there. He’s completely tone-deaf, giving me the confidence to join in on the harmony. We sound like cats getting strangled by larger, meaner cats, but I don’t care; it feels good to blow off some steam. When he drops me at my destination, I’m a bit looser than before.

I’m not one to mince words, so I’ll get right to the point. I’m horny. It turns out already being in a bit of a dry spell, then spending one glorious night with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Stormy has somehow made me more feral.

---