Flexing my jaw, I try not to let my agitation over their irresponsibility get to me. “Not in my house,” I reply firmly and I pour India some fizzy water instead and hand it to her. The tips of her fingers brush against my hand and she looks up at me as if she wants things from me.

Or maybe she wants nothing. Or maybe she just wants money like so many other women. Twirl her Uncle Clay around her finger then grab his money. Glancing at India, I want to punch myself for even thinking it. She’s not like that and I’m fully aware that she’s one of a kind.

With my hand around my own glass, I sit down on one of the couches, easing into the cushions when I feel a thigh brush against my leg. My eyes flare to India’s but she pretends to not notice, putting her arm around my neck and curling into my lap.

Tensing, I don’t know what to do at first. It’s been a while since she sat in my lap like this and my heart starts hammering. What is she doing? What am I doing? I look at her parents who seem oblivious to it all.

They couldn’t care less, acting like it’s all normal and they’re preoccupied with each other as usual. They think I’m harmless, think it’s fine to let their daughter sit in a grown man’s lap. Well, it’s not fine and I put my hand on India’s thigh, pushing her higher up towards my chest and she lets out a trembling breath.

Our eyes meet and hers glitter the way rays glitter over a summer lake and her tongue flicks to moisten her lips. It would be so easy to take her mouth like this, fondle her as if we’re alone and she’s fully mine.

My mind blanks at the feel of her fleshy ass so close to my crotch. She better not wriggle, she better play nice and be a good girl...I let out a strained groan when she wriggles, moving her face up to my glass.

“Can I just have one sip, Uncle Clay?” she asks, her chaste eyes going to mine. “Please.”

Forcing myself to not let her influence me, I answer, “No.” My voice is sharp, leaving no room for protests but of course Robbie and Ronnie have to push it.

“Stop torturing my kid,” Robbie says, “just give her a sip.”

“Yeah Clay, give her a sip,” Ronnie smiles and then she looks at Robbie and they both grin at each other before they start chanting, “Drink, drink, drink!”

Their chanting spreads around my living room, their palms hitting the coffee table, spurring me to give India a sip. But I can’t stand being defied. I pride myself on my power and I shake my head at India who moves her lips closer to my glass.

She wants a sip so bad, she’s ready to go against my orders.

With a playful look in her eyes, she edges closer, her face moving to mine, her lips...

But she’s not defying me and I swipe the whole drink in one gulp and disappointed cheers rain over me. India is the only one smiling, the rest act as if the apocalypse just happened.

Putting her lips to my ear, she whispers, “I knew you wouldn’t let me drink.”

Frowning I say, “You think I’m predictable?” It unnerves me, that she might think of me as a bore, as a man whose clutches she’d rather escape than run to.

“No.” Her eyes soften, softening something inside of me at the same time. “I just trust you.”

CHAPTER THREE

India

I dared myself to do it, dared myself to sit in his lap and when he didn’t push me away or stood up, I thought my heart would burst. Maybe Uncle Clay does feel something for me and maybe he sees me as something more than just his best friend’s daughter.

His eyes are always concerned when they look at me but now they’re something else too. They’re fixed as if he’s made up his stubborn mind about something. It’s time for us to have dinner and I slowly get out of his lap, watching his jaw flex when his eyes go to my hips and he seems displeased.

About what, I wonder?

But Clay isn’t the kind who blurts things out. He’s not hotheaded, or reckless or impulsive. In other words, he’s nothing like my family. Turning my head to look at Clay, I’m disappointed to see that he’s busy talking to Robbie and I hook arms with Ronnie instead as we move into the dining room.

It’s too big for the three of us with a mahogany table and a fireplace in dark marble. It’s not lit and Clay doesn’t light it up because it’s too warm anyway. Robbie’s too busy sucking up to Clay that he doesn’t notice that Ronnie isn’t happy. It’s not until she clears her throat he realizes she wants the attention to be on her.

He leaves Clay’s side and gives it to her immediately. One day I’d like for someone to do the same for me. My eyes go to Clay and he watches me with a silent brooding, forcing me to break our eye contact before I start whimpering.

“This looks amazing,” Ronnie muses, lifting the cloche that’s kept the food warm and I want to go and sit down right next to Clay but I don’t want to come across as needy, so I take my usual seat. “Doesn’t it look amazing, India?” Ronnie continues and I nod.

“I love coming here,” I murmur. I have ever since I was small because sometimes, dinners at Clay’s was the only time I truly felt nourished. Back home we just stuck to junk food or Ronnie’s specialty; fried cheese.

“Yeah, then you’re going to love me even more after I win tonight,” Robbie grins, shoving an asparagus into his mouth and both my and Ronnie’s eyes go to his.

“What?” I exclaim and Robbie wiggles his brows making Ronnie burst into laughter.