The House Always Wins - 12. Chapter 12

After dinner, Olivia retired to her room, and I had the place to myself. I watched TV for an hour, a fun show fittingly called Las Vegas on NBC, in which the security of a casino was depicted. If even half of what happened in that show was real, I almost started to feel sorry for Michael.

After the show was over, I scoured the books in the study, marking a few titles with yellow post-its, and made another move in the chess game; hmmm, maybe Michael wasn't a novice after all. His countermove had my Queen cornered and I'd have to offer her, unless...it took me a while to figure it out, but then I grinned evilly and moved the Bishop, setting him up for an offering as well. I wished I could see his face on that one; I was pretty pleased with myself.

He'd be up soon, and I was kind of glad about that since there wasn't a hell of a lot for me to do around here; normally I'd have been home in my room, playing a PC game or, more likely, racing my little heart out on the X-box. So I was glad when the soft ping of the elevator chimed, announcing his arrival. As soon as he came in I started talking, ignoring the annoyed and tired look that he sent me.

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" he asked, looking at his watch. "It's a weeknight."

"Sorry daddy," I replied, sarcastically, "there's a ghost under the b... hello?! I'm nineteen!"

He sighed, planting his hands on his hips, impatiently raising an eyebrow.

"I'd like to raise the fun factor up here by oh, say, 100%, if it's allowed, and buy an X-box tomorrow. I can't spend the next few weeks without some sort of mindless entertainment. Would you mind?"

"Fine, sure...go ahead."

"They're not free..." I said, holding up my hand, a little embarrassed to ask for funds.

"Use the credit card I gave you. Anything else?"

Oh! I'd forgotten about that.

"Umm, yeah. I'd like a few extra games too. I know they're expensive but..."

He waved his hand dismissively and started walking towards the hallway.

"Buy whatever you want," he said, over his shoulder.

His total disregard for the cost was kind of refreshing; at home I'd have battled my step-dad for a week, and then end up paying for it myself.

"Just make sure I don't hear that racket when I'm home."

Cool!

"You won't hear a thing, I promise," I called after him, as he disappeared.

Now where was that catalog I'd seen lying around here somewhere...

**********

I was busily flicking through the pages of the catalog, which I eventually found in the study, when Michael came back into the living room and came over.

"Would you mind putting away your clothes when you change? I had to practically wade through them."

I blushed and nodded. I had showered and changed earlier that evening, leaving the worn ones in the bathroom. Normally, my mom picked up after me.

"Sorry."

"And don't leave wet towels on the floor. Use the hampers."

Oops.

"Sure. Sorry."

"And stop apologizing. I hate that."

"Fine. Anything else, or is the pick-on-Jason minute over now?" I responded, a bit edgy. Okay, so I'm a slob. There is such a thing as asking nicely.

"Yes. You said eleven was your usual time, so go to bed. It's after midnight."

"What! Oh man... you've got to be kidding me!"

He remained silent, instead opting for the ‘I'm not saying it again' look that parents patented ages ago. He was good at it.

I sighed, and threw the catalog on the table.

"You're not my dad. You can't boss me around."

He opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again and then just motioned with his head to the hallway.

All right, okay! I got it. Dickhead.

**********

If he was my own size I'd deck him I thought, bristling indignantly; there was no need to send me to bed like a little kid. Too bad he wasn't my size; I'd never be able to take him on physically.

This morning I'd gotten a good look at him as he got out of bed, and it was obvious he worked out regularly. He looked fine, more than fine, actually; taught muscles everywhere, broad chest, and well endowed in the fur department. I was a little envious of guys who had it, because even Miracle Grow wouldn't make anything sprout on my smooth chest; Michael had a nice layer of it, covering his upper chest and down a tantalizing trail ending in his black boxers. Hmm...the well-endowed parts didn't end there, from the look of it (come on, wouldn't you sneak a peak whenever you got the chance?) Anyway, if he had noticed me checking him out, he didn't let on.

I stripped down for the night, kicking my jeans away and throwing my polo shirt after it, opting to let them lie where they landed; on the floor by the door. But I quickly thought the better of it, not wanting to make things worse; I wouldn't put it past him to deny me the X-box, given his father-like behavior just now. My step-dad was a master at that crap, and Michael had already given him a run for his money there.

So I picked up the clothes, and went over to the bathroom, dumping them in the hamper, along with my socks and boxer-briefs. Then I turned on the taps and took a quick shower, I prefer to go to bed as clean as possible, a little quirk of mine. When I was done I brushed my teeth and walked back out into the bedroom, stark naked and froze in the doorway when at the same time, the bedroom door opened and Michael stepped in, holding the book I'd been reading.

I think we both were a little surprised. Well, not surprised, exactly; I was horrified. The only thing Michael did was cock an eyebrow, and then he averted his gaze. He held up the book and threw it on the bed.

"I thought you might want this. You said you liked to read before going to sleep."

At that, he disappeared, pulling the door closed behind him with a soft click.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why the hell hadn't I taken a clean pair of underwear with me in there? I couldn't believe my own carelessness. At home, I could have pretty much gotten away with this, since my parents slept downstairs, way in the back of the house. They had their own bathroom, and never used the one upstairs, where I slept.

Stupid!

I kept chiding myself, and quickly got a clean pair of boxers from the closet, and climbed into bed. Reading was the last thing on my mind, so I put the book on the nightstand, and flicked off the light.

Stupid!