(Trish's POV)
It had been two weeks since Joseph and I started dating. We promised that his mom, Britney, would never find out.
There was no way I was going to let her know that her best friend's daughter, the one she took in after my mother passed away, was busy hooking up with her freakishly charming son under her own roof.
No way.
Honestly, it shocked me how quickly he began checking on me after my mom's funeral. He would tell me to eat and would bring food up to my room himself. It was ironic seeing how drastically the badboy had changed.
He was training harder for his football career now. He suddenly hated being called the King of Mthland High. It was like noise to his ears.
He did not care about that status anymore. He constantly shared how all he wanted was his mom's happiness, and mine too.
It was saturday morning, and it was my eighteenth birthday.
I had assumed my new boyfriend would plan a surprise for me, or at least wish me a happy birthday. Instead, he just walked casually into my room like he does every morning.
"Trish, bae, you up?"
"What?" My voice roared so loud that I almost choked.
How could the king of Mthland High just walk into my room and address me as "bae?" Not to mention how groggy and distant he usually is with girls now. Now the number one badboy in school was calling me his bae?
"Bae?" I repeated, rising and staring deep into his eyes as if trying to read his thoughts.
His hands slowly moved to cover his mouth in embarrassment as he realized he let his guard slip. It was not exactly a fitting look for a badboy who usually kept a shield over his heart, even if we were dating.
"I am so sorry, Trish. Forgive me," he said, joining his hands together as if to take the word back. "I did not mean for it to slip out, I swear. That sounded so wrong. It is disgusting to even hear. I do not know why the hell I said that."
He slowly turned to walk out. I couldn't stand how cute he looked, avoiding my eyes, shy as ever. I just sat there wondering why and how I was the one who caused a change of heart in a guy as gorgeous as him.
His hair was longer and darker now. After only two months of living in this house, I finally felt like I belonged. When I looked at Joseph, he sometimes turned away, and other times he gazed back. I could feel us growing into a real couple.
I was eighteen-years-old now, the same age as him. I was already having lustful thoughts of spending the rest of my days with him. However, the thought often vanished as quickly as it arrived.
My goals and my pride remained the center of my world. Love is freedom, and you cannot truly have freedom if you push away your career and purpose for a relationship, right?
As Joseph walked out, my lips curved into a smirk. I actually loved that he called me his bae. In fact, the moment I heard it, I felt a rush of heat through my body. My newly awakened eighteen-year-old hormones were clearly enjoying every bit of it.
Having a family with someone hot as him would be nice, all I hoped was that my new adult urges wouldn't get in the way and turn everything into chaos.
I mean the way I kept dripping. Like "zee-zee-zee". I couldn't hold it anymore, I took my pads and rushed over to the bathroom where I eased up a bit.
"Mm-mmmmmh" I let out a rough moan as it kept pouring and dripping down making an unfamiliar screeching sound as it poured into the toilet.
Shit. What was happening to me? I was starting to behave like a pervy girl. Was this what girls became when they began to feel like fully grown women?
The one person he leaned on to be better was slipping away. And why? All because I turned eighteen? Bullshit!
Just the other night, I dreamt I held a little girl in my arms. Together, we looked up at Joseph, who appeared as her father. The dream ended softly, his soft, wet, pink lips kissing the baby's forehead before lingering against mine.
That was the climax. I jolted awake and rushed to the bathroom, panic surging through me. I hated wetting my sheets, washing them was already enough of a hassle.
One thing was clear: I had survived the trouble Joseph had staged when I first arrived at his home. Now, not only did Miss Britney love me dearly, but Joseph had grown to care for me too. He didn't show it the way his mother did, but that was probably why he asked me to be his girlfriend, not to feed desire, but to find comfort and steadiness, something that wouldn't drag a young man down.
But then came my eighteen-year-old hormones. They yearned for him now like never before. I was terrified I wouldn't be able to control myself, that I might end up doing the worst thing Trish Carpenter, the girl raised on good morals, could ever imagine:
Ask the prettiest boy in the world, who also happens to be my boyfriend, to…
fu—
But no. There was still time, at least three months left until graduation. That wasn't so long.