Lucifer did seem rather determined to be the baby’s godfather, she mused, glancing in his direction to find him sitting at the bar, glaring down at a stack of papers, which brought up a completely different subject.

“Aren’t you supposed to be writing a paper?” Melanie asked, returning her attention back to Rebecca to find the other woman shrugging.

“I finished it, but he wasn’t happy with my choice of font and felt that my introduction wasn’t exciting enough to capture the reader’s attention.”

Frowning, Melanie absently ate another fry as she glanced back at Lucifer, who was still glaring. “What was your paper on?” she couldn’t help asking.

“Time management,” Rebecca said with a shrug.

“I see,” Melanie murmured thoughtfully, wondering how Rebecca handled Lucifer’s OCD without killing him.

Then again, since she’d benefitted from his OCD over the past few months, she wasn’t exactly in a position to talk. Thanks to Lucifer, everything in her apartment was now organized and she meant everything. From the frozen peas in her freezer to the extra pack of floss in her bathroom, everything was organized by expiration date, size, likelihood of use and, in the case of her kitchen, by flavor and texture in addition to all the aforementioned categories.

She’d felt bad at first that he was doing so much, but that quickly changed when she’d realized that he was actually enjoying himself. Whenever she tried to help him, he would glare at her, point towards her bedroom, and wait until she went back to bed before continuing with his hobby and if she didn’t move fast enough the bastard would call her mother. She still wasn’t sure how he got his hands on her mother’s phone number, but she suspected that Rebecca had something to do with it.

“How did you end up spending the night with Aidan?” Rebecca asked, and Melanie had to give her credit, because she’d held off asking that question again a lot longer than she’d expected.

With a shrug, she said, “A lot of tequila, some beer, and a few shots of unidentifiable alcohol.”

She decided not to mention that she could barely remember what happened when she’d left their apartment with Aidan after Lucifer threw them out. She remembered going to a bar, ordering a drink, the feel of Aidan’s hands on her as he pushed her up against the wall and kissed her, flashes of what happened once they made it to the hotel, and…

That was it.

The only thing that she remembered with perfect clarity was what happened the next morning when she woke up to find Aidan sitting across the room, glaring at her as he informed her that the condom broke during the night. The conversation that followed was definitely something that she wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon.

There was really nothing like struggling with a hangover while the first guy she’d slept with in years made sure that she knew just how much he regretted sleeping with her before she’d flipped him off, mumbled something that she hoped pissed him off, grabbed her cl

othes and left, more than ready to forget him.

Unfortunately, that’s not how things turned out.

“Fine. Don’t tell me,” Rebecca grumbled as she glanced at her husband and groaned miserably, “He’s getting out the red pen.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a fun night,” Melanie said absently, not really in the mood to torture her best friend tonight.

Rebecca shrugged. “He’s easily distracted.”

From the sounds that she heard whenever she walked past their apartment, Lucifer’s office, or the supply closet, she had to agree. As she sat there, absently nibbling on another fry, she couldn’t help but wonder if Rebecca would be willing to distract Lucifer when he found out about Aidan.

“Do you think Aidan knows?” Rebecca asked, making her stomach turn, because she honestly didn’t know.

“I left before he could see me, and I doubt the nurse is going to make a big deal out of a patient ditching an appointment.”

She’d probably just mention it to the receptionist, who would make a note of it and send her a request for a cancelation fee. They’d probably just tell Aidan that his eleven o’clock canceled and that would be the end of it.

At least, she hoped it would.

Feeling exhausted from her first real trip out in months, she popped another fry in her mouth, tossed one at Rebecca who was back to ogling her husband, and made her way to the door in the back that lead upstairs to her apartment. Once she put her code in, the door unlocked with a loud click and she was making her way upstairs and praying that Mojo, the large mastiff with a slight weight problem and a love of naps that she’d adopted with Rebecca a few years ago, wasn’t waiting for her at the top of the stairs.

When she finally made it to the second floor, and she refused to think about how long it took her to walk up a flight of stairs, she opened the door, made sure that there weren’t any large puddles of dog drool waiting for her, and went into her apartment.

Her sad, lonely apartment…

Sighing, she tossed her bag aside, grabbed a small bottle of apple juice and walked towards her bedroom, forgoing her comfortable couch and settled for the bed that she was sick of looking at. It was only for a little while longer, she reminded herself, hating that she was going to have to move soon, but what choice did she have? Renovations were set to begin on the Fire & Brimstone soon, she had a baby on the way, she could barely make it up the two flights of stairs now and she really wasn’t sure how she was going to manage it with a baby in her arms, but most importantly, she couldn’t afford the rent by herself anymore.

Grabbing her iPad, she sat on the bed, picked up where she left off with the two-gallon sized bag of peanut butter M&Ms that she kept for nights like this, and settled in for another night of trying to find a first-floor apartment with two bedrooms, a garden tub, a gourmet kitchen, a huge backyard with a hot tub, and a landlord who was willing to rent it to her for a thousand dollars a month or less.

Preferably less, she mused with a handful of M&Ms and a wistful sigh

Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net