His Underestimated Princess

There's this joke that goes, "I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness."

If daddy was God, then Scott was my bike. And every single time I went back home was me asking for forgiveness for knowing him.

Waking up in Scott's arms was bad for my resolve. I tried so hard to tell him last night that I was leaving, this time for good. But when I looked into his warm brown eyes and his goofy smile revealed his dimples, I lost my nerve. Now here I was, lying in his bed next to him, gently brushing his dark curls with my fingers, thinking about how much time we had left before my flight tonight.

"You've accomplished absolutely nothing in the last seven years. It's time to come home," daddy had decreed.

I couldn't exactly say he was wrong. With my father uprooting me every couple of months to come home and "Take care of business", I still hadn't declared a major. If I had, NYU likely would have academically excluded me by now. My life was such a mess of going back and forth that I couldn't even keep my job at a coffee shop. Of all things, a coffee shop.

There was no point in telling daddy that he was partly to blame though. In the end, I was always going to have to live the life daddy had planned for me. At least when I left tonight, I could finally let go of the guilt that I might be endangering Scott's life every time I walked back into it.

"I'm leaving, Scott," I said, the words finally slipping out my mouth.

He was just beginning to stir, but he heard me.

"Grab a shower first. I'll make pancakes, then I'll drive you to class," he said groggily, thinking nothing of my words as he unwrapped his arms from around me for the last time, got up and stumbled towards the kitchen.

"Scott we need to-"

"Blueberry. Dusted with powdered sugar instead of syrup, because you're a freak. I know," he called back and I lost my nerve once more.

An hour and a half later, we went out to meet Kenny, who was stuck covering another puff piece for his news station.

"Come on, it's the largest cookie in New York City. How cool is that? I'm excited. And there's plenty of time before your first class," said Scott, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for me to agree.

"You're a good friend. The best," I said, glancing at the large coffee in the cup holder. "Kenny's still down about being passed over for the promotion?"

"Little bit, but also giant cookie," said Scott, like showing up for his friend on his day off was a no brainer.

It probably was. I was really going to miss our adventures. We got out of the car and headed into a little bakery to meet Kenny and the cameraman.

"Stacy Kendrick, as I live and breathe. I guess that answers the did you go home last night question. I'm going to start making you pay rent," said Kenny with an easy smile. "Or I could take you out on a date and we can call it even."

"He's not down enough to stop hitting on me," I whispered to Scott.

"Exactly why you're the right person to bring along," Scott whispered back. "Men forget all their woes around you."