Page 1 of Milk & Cookies for Uncle

CHAPTER1

MILLY

After I brush my hair, I make sure to put away all the things I have out on the bathroom counter and that the towels are straight. Uncle Logan doesn’t like me to leave a mess even though this is my bathroom and no one shares it with me. I want to laugh at the idea that someone else might use this space. There are ten other bathrooms in this house they could choose from before using mine.

Still, he likes for everything to be in its place and for the house to remain tidy. This time I want to roll my eyes at that because he has housekeepers that come in several times a week to make sure there isn’t a speck of dust in the place. If I did happen to leave my brush on the counter or god forbid clothes on the floor, it’s not like it would stay there for twenty-four hours. There would be someone coming in right after me to make sure everything was pristine.

That’s Uncle Logan, though. He likes order, precision, and for things to be his way. The need to rebel and dump everything out onto the floor is strong, but then I remember why I live with him, and I make sure it’s extra clean.

My parents took off last year, and I didn’t fit into their plans to party and fuck strangers all over the world. I was a few months shy of eighteen so they dumped me at Uncle Logan’s and told him to make sure I didn’t get into trouble until I was legal. Now that I’m eighteen, I’m relying on the good graces of my uncle and praying he won’t kick me out.

After I graduated high school, he told me that I could either go to college or learn a trade but that I could stay here as long as I followed his rules. Of course I agreed right away because what other options did I have? I got good grades, but I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to do. He agreed to pay for tutors in the meantime since there wasn’t a college close that I could commute to. So that’s what I do every day now. I get up, sit through hours of tutoring, and then go to bed. It’s not much different from my life before, but it’s better than being on the streets.

“Milly?” Uncle Logan’s voice startles me, and I glance in the mirror to see his reflection.

“Your breakfast is ready,” he says, but he doesn’t leave right away. Instead he looks in the mirror right back at me, and his eyes move down my dress. “Where did you get that?”

“Rosanna got it for me,” I say quietly as I brush my fingers over the pretty green material. “It was in the bags she left on my bed.”

Rosanna is his personal shopper who is also in charge of getting my clothes. Usually she has very strict instructions on what I can and cannot wear, and I was shocked when this dress was tucked into one of the bags. It’s the perfect Christmas dress, and I couldn’t wait to wear it. Especially since it’s Christmas Eve.

Normally when Rosanna gets me clothes, they are either black, white, or gray and completely shapeless. There’s never any color or anything fitted that might draw attention to me or my body. But this green dress is the complete opposite of all those things because it’s tight and short with glitter all over it. I wanted to squeal with excitement when I saw it, but now I’m wondering if there had been some mistake.

The way Uncle Logan is looking at me makes me think this wasn’t something he wanted me to have.

“I see I’ll have to speak with her again and remind her of your wardrobe requirements.” He presses his lips together as his eyes go to my breasts. “And she obviously needs to take new measurements.”

Sure, the dress is tight across my chest, but it’s stretchy. Okay, so it’s stretched to the maximum size, but I can’t help it. My boobs keep getting bigger, and now they ache all the time. I thought they would quit growing at some point but maybe it’s all the vitamins Uncle Logan makes me take. They also make me wetter between my legs, but I’ve never told anyone that.

“Maybe she thought I would need a fun dress for tonight,” I offer because the last thing I want to do is get Rosanna in trouble. There were also different panties and bras included in the bag, but I don’t dare mention that to him.

“Hm.” Uncle Logan makes a curt sound, but his eyes keep moving over me. He looks angry as he takes in the dress over and over, and I stand there trying not to fidget. “We don’t have time for you to change. Your breakfast is getting cold.”

With that, he turns around and leaves me hurrying after him. “Why don’t we have time for breakfast?” I ask as I follow him down the stairs.

“Your tutors will be here early,” he says once we enter the dining room and the kitchen servers immediately come out to serve us. Which is why my breakfast would never have a chance to get cold, but I don’t point that out to him.

“My tutors?” I ask, feeling betrayed. “But it’s Christmas.”

Uncle Logan snaps out his napkin as the servers uncover our plates and then leave us alone. “I’m aware of the date, Milly, and it’s Christmas Eve.” He looks at the silver dish beside my plate that contains my daily pills. “Eat so you can take your medicine.”

I’m not supposed to take them on an empty stomach, but how am I supposed to eat when I was hoping for at least a couple of days off school? “Uncle Logan—” I begin, but he gives me a look that makes me stop speaking.

“As long as you are under my care and guidance, you will do what I expect of you. Is that understood?” He cuts into his breakfast omelet but waits for me to answer before taking a bite.

“Yes, Uncle Logan.” I agree because I have to and also because he doesn’t ask a lot of me. He lets me have free rein of the house and doesn’t make me lift a finger. All he asks in return is that I study hard and pick up after myself.

This is our first official Christmas together since I was dropped off in January, so I was the one that assumed today might be different.

“Good girl,” e says and then goes back to eating his breakfast.

“Will you work today too?” I ask, and he nods before taking a sip of his juice and pointing to my plate.

“Eat,” he orders, and I do what he says. “The offices don’t operate on Christmas Day, and most of the staff want to be with their families this evening.” He says it like it’s a ridiculous request but then sighs. “So I will be home early.”

“Would you like to watch a Christmas movie together?” I offer. I don’t have any traditions on Christmas, but this sounds like something we could do that wouldn’t require a lot of talking. He doesn’t seem to enjoy that, and it’s not like we’re having people over.

I was surprised when he brought in a crew to decorate the entire house for the holidays. At first I thought we were having a party, but then nothing happened. I guess he just wanted the place to look festive. It seems a shame to let all this go to waste if we’re not going to do something Christmassy.

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