Once Upon A Prostitute

CHAPTER 25 - DON'T JUDGE YOU

Three weeks later

Mina's POV

Luke's getting too comfortable.

I mean, look at him. He's making pancakes. Pancakes!

He's standing in my kitchen flipping pancakes, wearing nothing but boxers. Although, I'm enjoying the view before me and secretly checking him out, this doesn't feel right.

It started with little things. First he bought me some chamomile tea because he said I kept him awake all night with my restlessness. I suffer from mild insomnia and it gets worse after a nightmare. I just toss and turn until the early hours of the morning. With Luke on the same bed, he's bound to suffer. I honestly don't get why he sleeps here sometimes. He has a whole mansion for a house and he's crashing in a small caravan.

Then two weeks ago, he moved in a fridge. I was enjoying my solitude and writing in my diary one Sunday when two delivery guys showed up at my doorstep with a brand new fridge. At the time I wondered what I needed a fridge for. Now, it's often stocked up with fruit, juice and bottled water. So, Luke has things to eat when he's over and is never too hungry to leave. I noticed he's more of a fruit and veggies person than a fast-food and burger guy, which is admirable. But I don't feel like this is my space anymore. I know it was never mine, but I felt in control before. Now, I'm beginning to fear that I could be kicked out any minute.

Last week, he started stocking up the cupboards. More cereal, some snacks, hot chocolate which I love, pancake mix and syrup, eggs. Dude, are you trying to move in or something?

When I told him, he didn't have to do all that for me, he just said he hated going to bed on a hungry stomach. There's something called restaurants you know. Maybe you should patronize your father's business partner - crunchies more often.

I tried not to bother too much about it because I thought he was just trying to be discreet. I've noticed he comes here late at night with a baseball cap shielding his face and leaves in the early hours of the morning. I knew he was trying to keep our arrangement on the low. After all this is a small town and tongues wag. I guess it was easier to snack on something in the apartment whenever he was here rather than going out and coming in. Someone might notice the guy with a baseball cap that frequently visited a particular caravan. Anyways, that was one explanation I gave myself.

My other explanation was that he was flying the nest. This was probably a phase where he had a deep-seated desire to move out of home and be on his own. I read somewhere that a lot of teenagers and young people feel this way at some point, especially boys. It probably makes them feel more manly, I guess. But who will fly a mansion to roost in a caravan? It didn't make much sense. I'm sure he has plenty of rooms at home to hole up in and not be bothered. Besides, he was often at school anyway, so he should be able to handle one or two days at home?

I had reminded myself that I still have the caravan to myself for the rest of the week, so he can play landlord two nights out of seven. Fair enough. I wasn't too bothered, until the unthinkable happened. Pancakes!

Today's Saturday, and normally I sleep in a little since Eve lets me come in late. But the smell of something delicious woke me up. I got up from the bed and stretched. Following the aroma, I ended up in the kitchen, and there he was in all he's glory, muscles, biceps, six-pack and all, as he flipped pancakes in the kitchen. Okay I'm exaggerating. Luke's not that muscular, but my eyes are shamelessly staring.