Dakota Roth…
When the other passengers began to file out of the plane cabin, I felt the nerves bubble up inside me. Nerves that I had been pushing down from the moment that Charleigh and I had decided to embark on this trip.
What if my dad is disappointed in me?
What if he doesn't like me?
Will things be awkward between us?
I mean that last one feels like it is a foregone conclusion if I am being honest. I mean, mom pulled me away from him at such a young age that I barely remember anything about him. Even when I push myself to try and remember him - I feel like I am thinking about a stranger. The only thing that I really remember about my father is his eyes. A stunning green that could match the rolling hills of grass in the areas that surrounded the home mom eventually procured for us upon our arrival in Scotland.
Did I have a bad upbringing? That is the million-dollar question, isn't it?
To most people - the things that I was subjected to would be enough to form the opinion of my mother being unfit. And for the most part; I hate to admit that they would be right. I am not saying that anyone with bipolar should never have children because I have seen other people with the same illness pushing constantly as they strive to make a better life for themselves and ensure that they do everything in their power to keep themselves on an even-keel. I wish that I could say that was my mother but unfortunately it wasn't.
No, my mother was, every bad, and cautionary stigma of someone with mental illness.
Refusing to take her meds because she felt like she was being stifled and eventually using the excuse that she was indeed cured. It didn't make a blind bit of difference how many times me, or her mental-health team tried to convince her that there was indeed no cure, that the only way to manage her symptoms was to keep taking the medication and follow the therapy-plan they had made for her. If I am honest, I think that there were more than a few times where she should have been sectioned. Taken into a mental-health ward where she would be locked down until they could get her to understand the seriousness of her situation but because she never posed a danger to herself - they had no grounds to do so.
Being left alone to deal with her was like our roles were reversed - she was the kid, and I was the adult.
I ensured the bills were paid.
I did the food shopping.
I did the house-work while maintaining a constant grade point average in the top 5% of my class. I even got a part time job to ensure we had extra money coming into the house.
Did I have to grow up quickly? Yes. I didn't have the same life as my peers - while they were going to parties and hanging out - I was at home keeping our home as spotless as I could manage.
While my peers were buying the latest trends and spending their pocket money on frivolous things - I was learning to budget and how to stretch the mediocre income of our household.
While my friends were enjoying being teenagers and discovering sex for the first time - I was ensuring that my mom's 'friends' kept their hands to themselves.
For the most part I have to admit that looking back on it - I am almost thankful to my mom in a way. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be half the woman I am now. I wouldn't be as savvy as I am when it comes to money. I wouldn't be as independent as I am now and I sure as Hell would have most definitely made some huge mistakes when it came to men. As it stood, I am entirely sure of what I do not want in a man.
The fact that I only just lost my virginity last year should tell you about my thoughts on men and what I want being maybe a little unrealistic but seeing my mom throw herself to anyone who paid her just even a smidgen of attention was enough of a cautionary tale for me to get the point.
The moment Charleigh caught my nerves - she did the one thing that she always did. She shifted into best friend mode and started to chat away to me about anything that would take my mind away from the huge elephant in the room. My dad.
It didn't even cross my mind that he would be here waiting for me. I mean it wasn't like I had called to tell him that I was coming. So, my fear had seemed somewhat misplaced, completely irrational inside my head. Yet, it was almost as if I knew deep down that he would indeed be here. Waiting for me. So, when we walked through the door into the main airport area - it was as if my eyes found him automatically - those clover green eyes burning into me with his need to ensure I was actually here and safe.
Everything after that felt like it happened in slow motion. Running towards him, my heart hammering desperately - my dad was here. I was finally home. That was what it felt like - coming home. The warm, secure envelope of his arms felt familiar and safe. The leather scent of him conjured a multitude of memories to rush at me with all of the intensity of a Goddamn tsunami. Engulfing me like a tidal wave of emotion - contorting my memories and realigning my reality. Slowly he pulled back from me, his hands brushing my hair back from my eyelashes, "welcome home, pumpkin!" He told me, making me blush and laugh.
Pumpkin.
I had not been called that since I was four/five years old and demanded that I wear my Halloween costume for a whole month after the actual day. If I am remembering correctly - I even wanted to sleep in it.
How different would my life have been had I remained here in Colorado with my dad? A part of me hated my mom for ripping me away from him. I hated that we had lost all this time. I hated that I felt so unsure around the man who was my father - even after reading all of his letters on the flight; I knew that he felt just as robbed as I did. We had missed out on so many things that it left a giant gaping hole in my chest at the pain of it and the realisation that we were nothing more than strangers at this point.
Feeling unsure of myself, my eyes moved to the side and landed on the man I had almost even forgotten about.
Jeremy.
Uncle Remy.
Holy. Fucking. Shit. To say this man was gorgeous would be the understatement of the fucking century. How the fuck had I nearly forgotten about him?
Standing at well over six 'foot in height, his hair was a dusty blonde and cropped short. Ocean-blue eyes that held the brightest tint of kindness that I have ever seen in another human being. A strong prominent jawline clenched and was like a direct caress against my suddenly sodden pussy. Beautifully, natural rosy lips curled into a smile that had my heart thundering desperately within a millisecond - knocking me off-kilter almost so quick I felt dizzy. A strong, thick neck that bulged with veins and muscle that I had never noticed on any other man before. A wide chest was covered in a thick black woollen jacket that stretched across his well-defined muscles so tightly I feared the material was going to rip like some sort of sexy alpha hulk taking shape before my very eyes.
"Uncle Remy!?" I heard the wonder in my tone but for fear of saying something mortifyingly embarrassing; I clamped my mouth shut and ran to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his tapered waist, burying my face in that wide chest and breathing him in. Emboldened by the fact that my dad seemed more than happy to have me home, I felt my senses breathe in the man whom I had always known as Uncle Remy.
Ocean. Sandalwood and citrus. It was not a combination that should work but, Goddamn it - it worked for me.
It really worked for me.
And he was so warm. So big and comforting that I felt the need to remain buried in his embrace. Protected and safe from the harshness of what my world had been of late. The strong, unrelenting band of his big strong arms locked tight around me as he whirled me around, "hey Kiddo!" He chuckled as I was pretty sure I felt the tremble from my body sink into his where he absorbed it and a wave of electric chemistry sizzled along our flesh where it connected to each other. God I could stay like this forever. It had never felt so completely right to be in someone's arms.
However, no matter how much I wanted to remain here in his arms, I knew that I couldn't. I had to remember this man was my dad's best friend and no matter how attracted I suddenly felt to him - it was wrong.
It would never work.
It would rip apart a life-long friendship. And that is if he even felt half as attracted to me as I felt to him, which I definitely doubted. Why would he? I am barely out of my teenage years and this man had known me since I was born.
This man had played horses with me when I was barely even old enough to walk.
This man sat at my little plastic table and pretended to drink tea with me and my dolls and teddy-bears.
This man read me stories - making funny voices to different characters just to make me laugh.
Besides, I'm not in the right head-space to be thinking about boys and relationships. I am finally back with my dad and for now I wanted to focus on that. I needed to focus on that. We certainly had a lot to catch up on that was for sure.
So much time to make up for and now that we had that chance - I felt calmer than I have in years. That is the effect of being back with my dad and not by being in Jeremy's arms, right?
Charleigh Smith…
From the moment that Dakota and I were paired up in our introduction of sociology class at the local college - we have been inseparable. Despite the five-year-age difference between us, we get on like a house on fire - into the same music, share the same dry, dirty sense of humour and we even share the same views politically - how often can one say that about the people in their life?
Granted it took Dakota about a year to fully open up to me about the life she had at home. Hearing the horrors that she faced with her mother on a day-to-day basis, made me more than thankful for the relationship that I have with my own parents. Yes, they may be somewhat over-protective, but I would rather that, than the sheer uninterest that Anna seemed to have towards Dakota and what she had going on in her life.
When she finally took me home to her house for the first time, I honestly don't know what I was expecting but it certainly wasn't what I saw.
It became abundantly clear that this woman was working herself ragged to do everything that she could to not only keep a roof over her head, but she was the only one who was trying to keep the house clean, neat, and tidy. Anna had been flaked out on the sofa with a bottle of vodka lying open on the coffee table, the ashtray overflowing to the point where it was a fire hazard. Dishes were piled up on the kitchen counter. The rubbish that had accumulated during the day was just lying around and not even contained in the empty rubbish bin that sat in the corner of the kitchen. The laundry was piled in front of the washing machine waiting to be switched on and the food that Anna had used to make lunch was still lying on the counter instead of being replaced in the fridge.
To say that the woman was entitled would be an understatement of the century. The moment Dakota walked in the door - Anna began her demands - where were her cigarettes? Dakota pulled them from her bag and threw them at her mother. Make her a cup of coffee. Get the washing in the machine. Do the dishes. Get dinner started. It was like a constant barrage of chores that Dakota barely even got a moment to just relax after a long day of classes. I stayed and helped her that night - helped her get on top of all that was expected of her and until her mom had disappeared upstairs to get ready to head out to the local pub for the night.
Only when Anna left did Dakota relax - it was a visual slump of her shoulders and an audible sigh of relief that tore through the silence that had risen between us.
That was the night that I grew to respect my best friend far beyond any respect I had ever had for a friend before. To see how difficult her life was and how she continued to make good grades at college and stayed on top of everything - she was an impressive young woman and I vowed to help her anyway I could.
And that had included boarding a plane with her a few hours ago to fly halfway across the world for her to get home. You see as much as I wished that her home was in Scotland - I knew that it was far from it. This was her home. With her dad.
And can I just say - holy shit is that man a specimen of handsomeness the likes of which I have never encountered before.
Dark wood coloured hair was styled casually and somehow drew my eyes to the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen - they were like the green of the fields of Ireland, so rich and vibrant that I swear I could swim in them for days at a time without growing bored or any less passionate about them. A long angular nose that seemed to sit almost perfectly on his chiselled features. Full, plump lips that were a natural mauve-like colour. High cheek-bones brought an extra something to his overall appeal. Day old stubble littered his lower jawline and led to a thick strong neck and further down what I am pretty sure is an impressive body. It was hard to tell his definition due to the winter clothes he was currently wearing because of course it was late November in Colorado - even in this heated airport I could tell that it was going to be cold outside.
"Charleigh, this is my dad and uncle Remy!" My friend turned to smile at me, but there was something about her look that screamed she needed to talk to me. And as my eyes travelled to the man at her back - I had a sneaking suspicion of what that something was.
I couldn't help but catch the sliver of chemistry that surged between the two of them. I don't know if he felt it or not because he seemed to be good at schooling his emotions but as he held his hand out to me, he smiled so genuinely that it took me a moment to regain my facilities as the look completely transformed his face into one of pure handsomeness. Yes, he was definitely Dakota's type.
"Hey, it's nice to meet you Charleigh," he expressed as we shook hands.
"It's nice to meet you too," I nodded before my best friend's dad stepped in and dominated my attention by his mere presence alone.
Fuck me! Could I be any more of a cliché? I am completely crushing on my best friend's dad. That is some cheesy romance novel shit right there.
"Thank you for getting my little girl back to me, Charleigh," oh God even his voice was alluring, like melted dark chocolate dripping into every corner of my soul, "if there is anything that I can do to repay you - please don't hesitate to ask!" He explained as he ignored my hand and pulled me into a consuming hug the likes of which I have never experienced before.
Anything he said! How about taking me to bed and showing me just how grateful you are?! The thought formed in my head so quickly that it left me in a tailspin. Scrambling to gain control of myself before I looked like some ass-backwards moron in front of quite possibly the hottest man I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.
"It-was-nothing!" I squeaked - Jesus fucking Christ, way to make an impression Char! I scolded myself.
"It's far from nothing, sweetheart," oh God, did he know what he was doing to me? "You didn't have to come all this way with her, but you did and that means a lot to me, as I am sure it means everything to her," he glanced back at his daughter but refusing to let go of my hand and the snaking sensation of electricity zapping along my veins was a head-trip and not something that has ever happened to me with a man before.
Dakota had dropped into conversation with her uncle, although he was of no blood relation, and it was clear to me that he may be having the exact same reaction to her as she was having to him.
Having only lost her virginity last year, I have never seen her like this around a guy before. It just wasn't something that she wasted her energy on, and I think a lot of her attitude is down to the things that she had witnessed while living with her mother. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me because the things she had seen and been subjected to would be enough to put anyone off the idea of men and dating and all that other stuff.
I, on the other hand, had no such scruples when it came to sex and men. And that was never more evident in the way my body was reacting to this man before me and the feel of his flesh against my own.
God I am in trouble.