Screw It Page 14

  I hesitate, tension seeping into my shoulders. “Maybe.”

  “Admit I’m your man.”

  My body locks tight, and I grit my teeth. “What?”

  “And that you’re my woman.”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  He raises his arm and wiggles his fingers. “What’s it gonna be, sweets?”

  Okay. Control. Assess the situation.

  If I’m gonna screw him, I need to let him in—obviously. But I can’t go whole hog because he’d catch it and call me out.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  His grin turns evil, and he slowly lowers his wriggling fingers.

  I glance at Ashley, who’s sleeping next to a zonked-out Ana. If he wakes one, then he’ll wake them both, and I’ll have two tired, whining three-year-olds. My skin tingles, worried he’ll go through with waking them up.

  I shoot a hand out. “Fine! Okay, fine. You win.”

  He grins. “Say it.”

  My jaw tightens. “You’re such a dick.”

  “Say it.” His tone is light and teasing.

  I cross my arms and glance away. “You’re my man.”

  “And?”

  I sigh and roll my eyes. “I’m your woman.”

  He chuckles.

  Dick.

  I return my attention back to my tablet, saving a few truck ads that look promising. Not five minutes later, he flops next to me, hooks an arm around my shoulders, and pulls me into him.

  “Hey!” I try to pull away.

  “Shh…kids are sleeping.”

  I clamp my mouth shut as I shift to move away, but he tightens his arm. His body shakes, and I peek up at him. He’s looking down at me, his smiling lips pressed together to hold back his laughter.

  “Why are you laughing?” I say hard but quietly.

  He calms. “I put another one of those puzzle pieces together.”

  My shoulders tense.

  “You want an us, and you want it just as bad as me.”

  My brow furrows. “What?”

  “Babe, you’re the most stubborn person I know. If you didn’t want to be sitting here right now, you wouldn’t be.”

  “You didn’t give me a choice. You hauled me up against you.” My voice is low, but it’s also obvious that I’d be shouting if I could.

  “Honey,” he says low and flat, indicating that he’s really saying, I don’t believe you.

  Honey is new, and I don’t know if I like it, but I know it’s good for the plan.

  “You didn’t give me a choice!”

  “If you didn’t want to be in my arms, you’d be making a ruckus to let me know you don’t want to be here. You kissed me in the closet. If you didn’t want me in your life, you’d have told Matt that, and he would have sorted it with me. I did not scare you into spending time with me. I’m aggressive ’cause I gotta be with you. If you didn’t want to be sitting here in my arms after having a kick-ass night with four little kids and sneaking in an unfortunately short make-out session, you wouldn’t be.”

  My jaw drops, and my mind processes.

  Shit. Fuck.

  Just as my mind thinks he has a point, I shut it down.

  He’s wrong. I’m sitting here because he didn’t give me a choice.

  “We don’t gotta talk about it, sweets. I know, in that head of yours, you got walls all built up. You can’t see around them, and right now, you’re working to fortify them.”

  I press my lips together before I point out, “I already said we could try.”

  His forehead creases when his eyebrows lift. “Yeah, you did, but I’m not fucking stupid. You’re doing everything you can to make sure that you keep yourself from me. You cracked the door open, but that doesn’t mean you took off the chain, and that sure as shit doesn’t mean you invited me inside.”

  I turn my head to stare at the movie, and it’s at the part where Aurora is about to touch the glowing spindle. My thoughts turn in my head—Zach back in my life and pushing, me fighting, my doubts about going through with Project Fuck Zach, my doubts about how I live my life, my determination, my control that slips more often than not these days, and how much that upsets me—but each is a wisp, and I can’t grasp one long enough to analyze it.

  Finally, I focus on one. “Why are you so determined to make this work?”

  He’s quiet for a second, so I glance at him.

  He’s studying me, the tongue-along-the-teeth thing happens before he answers, “I told you, I’m in a place where I wanna settle. We had a good thing back then. I was happy, really happy, happier than I’ve ever been. But it happened in a time of my life when I wasn’t ready for it. I know you were happy. I got off on how happy I made you. I want that back, and I wanna see if we can make it into something where we can be happy for life. I’m not saying that’s gonna happen. Although I know you pretty well, I’m learning more every day, and I’m loving everything I learn, but we’ve only been back in each other’s lives for two weeks.”

  Right. I’ve heard this before.

  “Okay, but why me? There’s no way that you can’t find another woman.”

  “Good women are hard to find.”

  I suck in a breath. I’ve never been called a good woman—not ever, not once. With my mama’s blood running through my veins, I work hard to be a successful woman, but fuck, I had no idea how good it would feel to be called a good woman. That strikes deep, and warmth fills my heart and radiates outward, filling my lungs and belly.

  I try really fucking hard to ignore my reaction.

  He holds my gaze. “Bull’s-eye.”

  My whole body locks tight. The warmth that filled me cools, dragging me out of my stupor, making my heart beat against my chest.

  “Don’t,” he whispers, dipping closer with his brown eyes sharp on mine.

  Closing my eyes, I shake my head. My breathing picks up, and my heart crashes into my ribs. “Why do you even want to settle? It doesn’t make sense. You’re still young. There’s no reason to do it now.”

  My eyes stay closed, and he doesn’t answer. Time ticks by, and my heart rate calms. When he’s still silent, I open my eyes and look at him.

  His eyes are on the kids, his jaw is working back and forth, and his gaze is intense. Then, he shifts his focus to me. With his jaw still clenched, his eyes blaze as they bore into me. His raw expression is so intense that my pulse skyrockets. I lick my lips and avert my eyes. I’ve never seen such determination and vulnerability wrapped together in one heart-tugging expression—never, not even close.

  “I want this,” he says, his voice low, making me glance back at him.

  He gestures toward the kids, and I feel a pang in my chest.

  “A family to come home to—kids and a wife. A woman who’s smart enough to debate serious stuff with, but one I can shoot the shit with, too. A woman who pushes me but can pull me back when I need it. A woman who roots for my dreams but still has dreams of her own that I can root for. A woman who will put up with my shit and love me despite me driving her insane. And I will. I know I will. I’m short-tempered, egotistical, and a stubborn son of a bitch. But I’m also loyal to a fault and thoughtful. I love fiercely. I want to build a family with a woman who makes me see beyond the bullshit in life. I want kids. I want to be the kind of man who teaches his kids to be better than himself. I’m ready for it. I want it more than anything.”

  With each passing word, my heart thumps faster with my rising anxiety. My hands ball into fists to hold off the tremors threatening to take over my fingers.

  What he said is directed at me, right at me, like he thinks I’m the kind of woman who can give him those things. And kids? God, I want kids bad. Before my epiphany with Alison, I swore that I’d never, ever have kids. I didn’t want to fuck up anyone like my mom had fucked up me. I healed enough to live, and I do it with my eyes forward. I know I have issues, but those issues have helped me become the woman I want to be. Although I didn’t want that for another person, I now want the challenge. I w
ant to prove that I won’t be the kind of mom mine was.

  This conversation is making that underlying doubt about how I live, about giving Zach another shot, come straight to the surface. I need out of this conversation.

  “Can we stop talking?” My words are short and clipped, but my voice is shaky.

  His brows furrow as he does the lip thing. He scans my face, his eyes traveling over my expression, for a while, for too long. My already erratic breathing gets heavy.

  “No,” he says slowly, his lips frozen around the O.

  Tears hit my eyes with my panic, my body shaking. “But—”

  “We can change the subject though.”

  Instantly, my breath comes out in a whoosh, and the pounding in my heart calms as my body unwinds.

  “I want you to tell me about those arrangements you had.”

  My forehead creases. “I thought you didn’t want to hear about them.”

  He licks his lips, and Christ, I shouldn’t hone in on his tongue gliding across his full bottom lip like that, but I do.

  “I don’t want to hear about them, but I want to get to know the person you are now, so in that sense, yeah, I want to hear about them.”

  I sigh, not exactly excited to share with him, but it’s a fuckload better than the previous topic. I’m not embarrassed about it. I’m a woman who has needs. I make sure that both my partner and I are clean, and I not only use condoms, but I also have an IUD.

  “Usually, I meet a guy at Hole. If he shows interest and I see promise, I tell him how it is. I don’t want to know anything about him. It’s just sex. I want a clean STD report, and a promise that the fucking stays exclusive. I let him walk me home, and we fuck. He leaves. End of story. No love, no attachments, no anything. Just orgasms. When it stops working, we walk away.”

  Silence for a few moments.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you do that?”

  I’m don’t respond at first, not wanting to face the reason and definitely unwilling to share. The reason, in some part, is him. He gave me fan-fucking-tastic orgasms before walking away. I wanted to keep the orgasms but not the emotional attachment, not the distraction from my life goals, and not the possibility of being hurt again.

  “It’s just easier that way.”

  After a beat, he says, “That doesn’t seem very safe.”

  Until Brian, I never thought about it that way. I can’t disagree now, so I stay quiet.

  “What if the guy hurts you? Or worse, what if he kills you? You could be fucking a serial killer, and you wouldn’t know until it was too late. That guy, Brian, could have been much worse.”

  I sigh, knowing Zach has a point. “A lot of people have one-night stands. I see it at the bar all the time. What I do is a safer and more consistent one-night stand.”

  “Did.”

  “What?”

  “What you did. You don’t do that shit anymore. You need to get off, you got me.”

  My body tenses at the same time my pussy throbs as I think about fucking him.

  That’s when my cell phone rings.

  When her cell phone rings, she leaps from the couch like she’s at the starting line of a hundred-meter dash, and the gun just went off. I know why she’s so eager for the interruption. Our conversation was intense. It was an important one, a needed one, but it was intense.

  I know I’m right. I know she’s scared shitless because she tenses up every two seconds, but I also know she wants it. I remember how she was six years ago. If she didn’t want to do something, she didn’t. End of fucking story. But if tonight with the kids and our conversation is a glimpse into what I have in store for me, fuck yeah, I’ll keep pushing until I break through.

  “Hello?” She pauses. “Oh my God. What?”

  I snap my head in her direction, and my gut drops when I see her pale face and wide eyes.

  “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she says, her voice trembling. After she hangs up, she drops the phone into her purse before turning to me with tears welling in her eyes.

  “My fucking apartment is—”

  She chokes on a sob and brings a shaking hand to her face, so I stride to her with my heart beating hard.

  “My apartment is on fucking fire.”

  “Fuck.” I pull out my phone and dial the station. Then, as gently but as firmly as I can, I tell Becca, “Call Matt. Tell him to get home.”

  When dispatch picks up, I ask who the officer is at the scene. Officer Parker is a respectable cop, about twenty-five, with a good head on his shoulders.

  I call him next, and he picks up on the second ring.

  “Hey, this is Detective Moretti. What’s going on with the apartment fire?”

  “Not great, not horrific. Started in two-B, but it’s contained. Someone saw smoke coming from under the door and called it in. Fire department is here, so it’s just about out. Landlord said he called the resident. She should be here soon.”

  “Yeah, the resident’s with me. How bad is it?”

  “Can’t tell yet. I know there is damage, but it could be worse.”

  “Right. Any clue what started it?”

  “Don’t know. They’re still putting it out.”

  “Be there soon.” I tap the screen, ending the call.

  Turning around, I find Becca on the couch with her head in her hands, her knees bouncing up and down. Adrenaline wiring my body, I go to her. After I sit down, I try to pull her to me, but she bats me with her hands.

  “Not now, Zach. This is me telling you to back the fuck off, and you need to listen.”

  This is what she would have done earlier if she really didn’t want to be sitting with me—fighting, making herself absolutely clear that she didn’t want me touching her. She’s doing it now, so I give her what she needs—space but not too much.

  She plops her head back in her hands, elbows on her bouncing knees. “I can’t believe this is happening. Oh my fucking God, I can’t believe I lost everything. Oh my God, everything I worked for.” She shoots up and screeches. “My picture!”

  She paces, and I glance at the kids. Nick twitches but doesn’t wake up. The other three don’t even flinch. When I move my eyes back to Becca, her feet are carving a path back and forth in the carpet.

  With her hands in her hair, she chants on a whisper, “My picture, my mama, my picture, my mama.”

  Fuck.

  I stand and make it to her, pulling her into my arms. She slaps at me, but she needs me. She’s cracking. She needs to lean on someone.

  She doesn’t fight long. Two seconds later, she collapses into me and bursts into tears. She clutches my shirt and uses it to cover her face. My gut twists, eating a hole in itself. It breaks my fucking heart to see her like this. Rubbing my hand on her back, I give her the support she needs. Once again, I’m thankful I’m here for her.

  Thirty seconds into comforting her, the front door opens, and Matt and Krissy rush through. Krissy’s face is pale, her hands shaking. Matt, judging by his hard face and sharp eyes, is hyper-alert.

  When they get to us, Becca peeks up and takes everyone in. She swallows and then moves her eyes back down to my shirt that’s wet with tears. She slowly uncurls her fingers from my shirt. While she does this, my chest clenches ’cause her face goes blank as she steps back.

  Fucking Christ.

  Just when I get somewhere, she pulls away.

  “I need to get to my apartment.” Her tone is flat.

  I turn to Matt. “You coming with us?”

  “Zach, I don’t need you to go.” Her tone is still dead.

  I look at her, and her face matches her tone. It ticks me off after the night we had. “You agreed earlier that I’m your man.”

  Her eyes widen. “But—”

  “And you’re my woman.”

  “That’s not—”

  “My woman’s apartment is on fucking fire, and I’m gonna be there to take care of her.” My tone is firm.

  Her
face hardens, and she shouts but does it quietly, “I don’t need you to take care of me!”

  “You do,” I return, my voice hard and final.

  She makes a strangled growly sound in the back of her throat. “I—”

  “Babe, this conversation is over. I’m going. I’m seeing to you. Done. End of discussion.”

  I look at Matt as Becca does her “Arg,” letting me know she’ll follow my lead.

  I note again that she doesn’t put up much of a fight. Matt’s eyes are on me, his lip twitching. I glance at Krissy whose face is pale, but she’s smiling hesitantly between Becca and me. Out of my peripheral, Becca crosses her arms as she harrumphs. I’m guessing she looked to her family for help and found she isn’t getting it. If this whole thing wasn’t so intense, I’d be grinning.

  “Right. You coming?” I repeat to Matt.

  He looks at his wife. “You good with all four here?”

  Krissy nods, her face still drawn.

  “I’ll call my brother,” I say to Krissy. “They’re at the Xfinity Center, so it’s gonna be at least an hour.”

  Becca is beside me in my truck, and Matt is following us in his black Explorer.

  The ride is silent. Becca is in her head, and I’m concerned about her being in her head. I give her space ’cause she’s gonna be pissed when I let her know that she’s staying with me until she can get herself sorted. Matt lives in a two-bedroom house. I have a two-bedroom apartment, and I don’t have two kids living in the second room.

  Fifteen minutes later, we pull up to the scene, and I note a crowd has gathered outside the building. The second the truck stops, Becca’s out the door and running. The fire crew is wrapping shit up, but the area is taped off. Dodging firemen and officers, we make it up to her apartment, and I brace myself.

  Her apartment is a fucking disaster. Her bed is nothing but the metal frame and the remains of a box spring. Her nightstand is charred. The rest of the place is intact for the most part, but it’s covered in soot and water.

  Becca is frozen at my side in the middle of the room, her whole body trembling.

  “No,” she whispers.