Page 75 of Trailer Park Billionaire

Tired of thinking about Ben.

Tired of not getting off.

Tired of strange noises haunting me.

Tired of tight chests and torturous knots.

Tired of my grandpa’s face haunting me.

Tired of having to worry about bad decisions.

I yawn.

Maybe if I just suffocate myself here with this pillow, I won’t have to deal with any of this anymore. As I press my face deeper into the soft cushion, I feel myself drift off slowly. The scent of sweet pancakes pulling me under.

25

HELENA

Pancakes?

Yes. Pancakes.

Before the blaring of my alarm (or some weird stalker) can yank me out of unconsciousness, I wake up… thanks to the smell of pancakes.

Notjustpancakes, actually. Succulent, butter-laced, blueberry-stuffed, maple-drizzled pancakes. They smell so good it might just be illegal. And they’re right next to me. In my bed.

I crack open my tired eyes a little more and look around, but there’s no one here. “Ben?” I ask, my voice still half-asleep.

No reply.

I blink at the tray beside me. Pancakes, coffee, even a little flower in a tiny cup. My brain tells me that my first instinct should be rage. He broke in again. He clearly has no concept of boundaries, or personal space, or laws.

Although, in his defense, heisa criminal, I guess.

I remember him saying that his spirit animal is a hungry hippo, and somehow I can relate. So, instead of rage, I feel something else. My chest does something weird, and warm, and I hate it. I hate that instead of fury, I feel… safe. Cared for.Maybe even—nope. Not finishing that thought. That wouldn’t even make any sense.

I sit up and take a bite. It’s fluffy. Perfect. Possibly better than the dinner he cooked last night. The only way it could be improved upon is if it was fed to me by a handsome man, in the nude, who comes very close to resembling the idealized form of beauty in ancient Greece. I suppose Ben would do, if the Greek gods are a little short-staffed when it comes to pancake feeding.

Yeah, I wouldn’t mind if Ben was here. In bed. With me. With the pancakes.

I swallow another bite.

Fuck me.

That’s how bad things have become. I’m yearning. I’m yearning for a man.

I need to find the charger for my magic wand. Desperately.

After eating and getting ready for the day, I find Ben in the driver’s seat of the RV, waiting. On our way to the museum, he’s unusually quiet, which is suspicious. Ben is never quiet. Unless he’s planning something… I assume. That would definitely be an explanation.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me last night…” I start.

Ben just grunts a‘What?’in response.

“Well, I fell asleep thinking about pancakes, as one does. And this morning, I awoke to pancakes. In my bed. Right next to me!”

Ben just nods without even glancing my way.