Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) by Natalie Barnes

squeeze.
    “Welcome to mommyhood, girl.”
    He winks at me before going back to applying whatever else he has going on my skin, humming all the while.
    By the time my hair and makeup are done, I have to use the bathroom. I leave Frankie laying out different pieces for today across the sofa, pulling each one up first and studying it as he pushes his index finger to the side of his cheek.
    I finish relieving myself, which by the way, felt amazing. I thought the peeing all the time thing was right when you were about to have the baby, but just in this last week, I’ve been finding myself going more. What really sucks is when I kind of feel the urge on stage. There’s no way in hell I’m pulling a Fergie. Uh-uh. Nope. I would run off the stage first before letting that shit happen. Some say it was her sweat, but I don’t know. I only know I’m not doing it.
    Squirting some soap in my hands, I start rubbing them together as I lean over the sink. My eyes flash up to the mirror. I don’t know why I’m staring, it’s not the first time I’ve seen myself all done up by Frankie, but now it just feels different. Not bad different, just different. He's given me smoky eyes with eyelash pieces along with nude lips. My already prominent cheekbones are even more so now. My hair is full of loose waves that actually smell pretty fucking good. I’m going to have to ask what he used.
    That’s when I catch a smirk of my own, laughing back at me in the reflection. I feel good. Well, technically, I still feel kind of hung over, but even with all that’s going on, a sudden rush of contentment washes over me.
    It’s funny how it does that. One minute I’m kind of cranky, the next I want to say 'fuck it' and chill. I like the latter way more. Giving myself a quick nod, I’m ready to get out there. Not just the bus, but the stage, life... everything. I feel pretty damn good right now.
    Shutting off the water, I wipe my hands down the sides of my tank as I spin around. Stepping back out in the hall, Frankie has the remote to the surround sound in his hand, using the other to wave me closer.
    “Okay, I got something.” He snaps his fingers, twisting his neck to the side, smirking at me. “I locked the door, so you’re good to go.”
    He nods his head to the side. Then he flips through different stations ’til he screeches out loud, causing me to jump.
    “Yes!” He bounces on his heel before looking over at me as he turns up the volume. Madonna’s Papa Don’t Preach . “Fucking love it.”
    “That’s nice, Frankie,” I tease him back as I make my way over to the clothes.
    Frankie starts bobbing his head to the music, snapping his fingers as he belts out the lyrics. After twirling around, he stops.
    “Finally! I have a friend that’s going through this.” He claps excitedly. “You know? Just like her music video, you all in trouble and shit. He’s the sexy bad boy, and girl…”
    “Papa don’t motherfucking preach, mmmkay.” He twists his bony wrist around as the watch dangles from it, pointing at me.
     
    He snaps his fingers with each word in front of him, side to side. I start laughing hard from my gut at his goofiness. I shake my head at him as I pick up each piece.
    “You’re awesome, Frankie,” I say, looking down.
    “Duh,” Frankie says in his valley girl voice.
    With my back to him, I carefully pull my tank top over my head. Again, the small friction from the material chafes against my tender nipples and I wince.
    “ Shit ,” I hiss.
    “What, girl?” Frankie calls out as he steps into the bathroom.
    Ignoring him, I start to very fucking carefully this time, pull over the looser fitting tee I’m wearing today. I don’t care, no fucking bra will go on right now. Let anyone give me looks or say she’s slutty or whatever. If they only knew right now how tender my nipples are. They can just kiss my ass.
    Turning around, I see the same, very small, cut off black jean shorts and the sheer, black tights. The