Q.B. Tyler

Things are different now, a voice speaks from somewhere within.

I lower my head, shameful for feeling the way I do when soft fingers find my cheek. His knuckles trail down my face and the same hand moves my hair behind my ear. Tingles are left in its wake and instinctively I bite my bottom lip. When I look up his eyes are soft and I see the smile in them as they trace my features. “I’m here for you, however you need me, Stassi.” His voice is barely above a

and a part of me, a very depraved part wonders if he’s speaking quietly on purpose. As if he’s worried someone will hear him and take his words out of context. How else would I need him except for in a father figure type way? Is he offering something else?
Stop it, Stassi. We’ve talked about this

I swallow hard, pushing the wicked thoughts back into that box labeled Daddy issues

I swallow hard, pushing the wicked thoughts back into that box labeled Daddy issues. It isn’t often that the carnal thoughts about my stepfather float through my mind, but every once in a while they spring up, setting my insides on fire and the space between my legs slick with desire. I’ve forced those thoughts out of my head and replaced them with what I believed to be hate. I told myself that I don’t like my stepfather. That he is overbearing and irritating, but really, he’s just overprotective and the only reason he irritates me is because I can’t have him.

I’m going for just an innocent display of affection but it feels like anything but the second my lips touched his cheek. They tingle as my skin brushes against the stubble sitting along his hard jawline. His skin smells like he’d just washed his face before we left and the clean scent makes my insides practically melt. A part of me wants to taste that same skin, let my tongue dart out and feel the sharp bristles of his beard.
Shit.
I pull back quickly as if I’ve been burned, and the fiery redness in his cheeks makes me wonder if maybe I had. He’s still facing the road, and I’m not sure what it means that he won’t look at me, but I’m sure it’s all in my head.

He answers on the first ring. “Stass? You okay? You’ve only been there like an hour.” The concern in his voice warms me all over and I genuinely smile for the first time since I got to Carter’s house. I don’t realize I haven’t said anything when he speaks again. “What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”
Baby? That’s…new.
“Will you just…come get me?”
“I’m on my way.”

“BOO!”
I almost fall off the couch with how high I jump, and I scream so loud, I wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors show up to see if we’re alright. I turn around to see Dominic doubled over in laughter.
“Are you kidding!?” I scream as I try to slow my racing heart by rubbing my chest.
“I’m sorry, Stassi, it was just too easy. You should have seen your face when you were peeking over the couch.” He moves around the couch and drops to the space where I was just lying and props his leg up on the table in front of us. “Why are you watching a slasher movie by yourself at midnight?”
“I’m not scared, and I love this movie.” I place my hands on my hips.
He narrows his eyes and points at me. “You’re scared.”
“Yeah, I’m scared of you sneaking up on me! Who wouldn’t be?”
“Aww,” he pulls me to sit next to him and pinches my cheek. “Poor baby.”
I push away from him despite the fact that he’s warm and comforting and I wouldn’t mind cuddling up against him. “Not funny.”
“It was a little funny,” he chuckles as he puts his thumb and index finger together.
“No.”
“Just a little?”
I roll my eyes at his playfulness when a thought hits me that he may be under the influence of something as well. “Have you been drinking?”
“Nope, I figured I’d take a page out of one of your books tonight.”
“You…smoked?” My eyes are wide in shock that my straight-laced stepfather smoked weed. “Without me?”

“You know I’m not very religious, Stass, but your Mom would say because it was her time. Because God was ready for her.”

Okay, here it is in my words. I don’t know why the universe decided it was her time, but from the beginning, we are taught that tomorrow isn’t promised, for any of us. You have to live, Stassi. Every day to the fullest. I want you to mourn, of course, because your heart will hurt for a while. You almost won’t feel like yourself. Death is hard. But…that’s life. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned is that it