Overlooked(1)(203)
“Thanks.”
“You must be desperate to get him in bed. We’ll figure something out.”
I breathe deep, my mind flowing back to the couch this morning. I don’t know if that made me more or less desperate for more.
Darla follows me through to the kitchen, where my laptop is open on the table. She makes her living vlogging too, and we always have lots of information and learning to share. We each have over two million subscribers now, but our goal is ten.
“Did they take the troll comments down?” she asks.
“Not yet. They said they’re investigating.”
“Let me see them again,” Darla says, and drags my laptop across the table. I open my YouTube page and click on one of the videos.
Hung like a Donkey: U talk bullshit
Ox Man: She talks like an angel
Hung like a Donkey: now u talk bullshit
Ox Man: Fuck you, you pimply virgin
Darla and I look at each other, our brows furrowed. The other comments weren’t there yesterday.
“What the fuck. Who is Ox Man?” I ask.
I click into another video.
Hung like a Donkey: Ur already stupid but U need to be spanked
Ox Man: I’ll fucking hunt you down and beat your sorry ass into oblivion if you keep harassing her
Hung like a Donkey: Ooo, listen to the big man, how u going to do that?
Ox Man: I have my ways, cocksucker, want to test me?
“This is fucking weird,” I say, staring at the screen.
“Are there more?”
“Let’s see,” I say and click into another video.
Hung like a Donkey: Go get some so u know what you’re saying
Ox Man: The only thing you know is the palm of your hand.
Hung like a Donkey: Fuck u
Ox Man: Touchy. Keep on dreaming about fucking someone one day
Hung like a Donkey: Fuck u
Ox Man: Fuck off out of here and leave Avery alone
Melissa Chick: Yeah, what Ox Man said. Move along, little man
This is weird. I don’t know if it’s good or bad. At least I have fans who’ll defend me.
“Are you Ox Man?” I ask.
“Fuck that shit. I’d be Vixen or Black Widow or something. Is it you?”
“No. No, no, no. I don’t do that kind of stuff.”
“The internet is weird,” Darla says, and shuts the lid. “But forget about it, it’ll all get taken down soon anyway.”
“I know.”
“Right now we have bigger issues, like getting that hottie out there in your bed. Let me babysit the kid tonight, I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“She’s not my daughter, it isn’t up to me,” I say, laughing.
“Do you think we can convince Knox?”
“I don’t know, he’s pretty protective of her.”
“We’ll just have to convince him. It shouldn’t be too hard, go put on a tighter top.”
“Wait. We might have an easier chance if you can win Piper over first. Then she’ll beg her dad to let you babysit.”
“Fine by me.”
“Wait. We’re going to need a reason he’s going out, and I can’t babysit.”
“Fuck this shit, this is like being in middle school.”
Before I can react to her outburst, Darla stands and storms out of my house. My heart races as I stand and chase her.
She hustles straight into Knox’s garage.
“Hey,” she barks at Knox, drawing his attention.
His face falls, and his lips tighten as he glares at her. Maybe this is a bad idea. Darla keeps going until she’s standing next to him, and I race up beside her, placing myself between them. Close enough that Knox’s manly scent engulfs me.
He looks at us like we’re unwelcome door-to-door salesmen.
“We were thinking,” I start, “that Darla can babysit Piper.”
“What for?” he says.
“So you two can fuck, obviously,” Darla says.
Knox’s eyes bore into Darla like lasers. I glare at her, willing her to shut up. I position my body between Knox and Darla, drawing his attention to me.
“Tonight. Darla can babysit, and you can come over.”
My cheeks flush. Darla is the forward one, not me. This is out of character, and I’m not all that comfortable with it, but I have needs in the form of a burning desire between my legs.
Knox looks at the ceiling of the garage, either deliberating or figuring out how to tell us to get lost. I’ve got nothing to lose now.
I hold his arm, go up on my toes, lower my voice and say, “I’ll wear the blue blouse.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows my words.
Knox leans, and growls “Didn’t I satisfy you enough this morning?”
Still on my toes and holding his arm, I lean my other hand on his chest and say, “Maybe. Maybe I didn’t get the chance to scratch your itch.” I bring my lips closer to him, “And I’d really like to scratch your itch.”