How It Rolls (13 page)

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Authors: Lila Felix

BOOK: How It Rolls
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“Ok, well, it’s late.  I better go.” Her lips spoke the words but her body made no attempt to move.

             
“Stay with me, Reed.”  She got her discomforted look again.

             
“I’ll sleep on the couch.  I’m just not ready to be so far away from you yet.” 

             
“I can’t.  I have to go to work tomorrow.”

             
“Do you have clothes with you? You can shower here or whatever you need and go straight into work from here.” 

             
She twisted her earring.  It added to the list of things I wanted to know about her.  Why did she always twist that earring when she was under duress? 

             
“Are you sure?” She gripped my shirt as if it would help her make a decision.

             
“Yes.”

             
“Ok, let me go get my bag.”

Chapter 18

Reed

One of my foster families had a set of seven year old twin boys who loved
Legos.  I’ve been elbowed in the nose, kicked in the guts with a set of quads and knocked into a steel barrier on the track.  But no amount of pain can compare to stepping on a Lego. 

             

              I rushed down the stairs outside Falcon’s apartment to throw some things in a bag.  I came here tonight to apologize and hope we could start over.  And now I was going to stay here with him, sleeping in a real bed.  It had been months and months since I’d slept in a bed. 

             
I walked back in and he was pacing the floors.  He stopped as soon as I came in the door. 

             
“Do you mind if I grab a shower tonight?”

             
“Of course not, whatever you want.”

             
I showered, my nerves getting the best of me as the drops pounded against the crown of my head.  I was achy and I noticed more than a few bruises coming to fruition on my legs and one across my stomach.  I got out, toweled off and threw on some girl boxers and an old derby t shirt.  I combed through my hair, brushed my teeth and turned to the door to face the music. 

             
I opened the door and he sat on the loveseat, scrolling through channels, looking relaxed, save for the twitching of his right foot.  He turned to look at me and then stood. 

             
“You must be tired, but are you hungry, thirsty?  I can run out and get you whatever.”

             
“I’m fine Falcon.  I just need some sleep, I’m kinda sore from the bout.”

             
He walked past me and into the bathroom and came out with 3 white pills and a glass of water.  I took them and then glanced to the bed, gathering my bravery.

             
“Ok, well, goodnight.  If you need anything, I’m right here.”He turned to take off his t shirt and I took the opportunity to take in the sight of his back, gray pajama pants slung low on his defined hips and waist.  And though there were many tattoos on his back and arms, one , carved across his back in bold black, begged my attention.  I closed in on him as he pulled his shirt over his head and I reached out, unable to stop myself, and ran my fingers along the diameter of the quote. 


I humbly do beseech of your pardon,

For too much loving you”

William Shakespeare

 

                            “How sad,” I said, my breath hitting his back.

             
              “What?” He said and turned to face me. 

             
              “How can you love someone too much?”  He shrugged and moved a wet strand of hair from the side of my face.

             
“I always manage to smother those around me. “  I looked down to his chest and saw the most intricate tattoo on his body across his chest.  It was an oil rig, drilling into a heart shape and it was almost empty, drained almost dry.

             
“Let’s get some sleep.” My voice cracked as I said it.

             
He nodded and halfway through a turn to the sofa I grabbed his hand to stop him.  I started walking backwards before he could protest.  I sat on his bed and he followed me. 

             
“Are you sure,” he asked.

             
“Yeah, I just—I just want you to hold me.”

             
“I can do that.”  He whispered and we laid down together, his gaze never leaving mine.  With one of his arms under my head, and the other over my waist, I started to drift off.  Him stroking my hair wasn’t helping.

             
“When I was little, we lived in this tiny little cottage house and the kitchen had wild orange and white wallpaper.  It was some kind of orange flowers with a black center.  I can’t remember what they were called but they were the same color as your hair.”

             
“Poppies.” I whispered into his chest.

             
“Yeah, that’s it—Poppy.  How’d you know that?”

             
“My mom owned a nursery.  I was around plants all my life.” The first memory of my mom was her pruning roses in the garden outside the front door.  She was so beautiful. 

             
“My mom can’t raise a plant to save her life.”  He chuckled and I could feel it rumbling through his chest against me.

             
“If I ever go to school, I’m going to be a botanist.” I wasn’t sure if I said that out loud or not.  Sleep had found me here, with Falcon.

             

              After the best sleep of my life, I could hear him breathing next to me.  I kept my eyes closed, letting the other senses take over, letting this moment seep into my pores.  The heat of his hand on my hip.  His breath flowing over my forehead in waves.  The smell of aspen and rain that permeated his skin.  Our feet stacked like books—my foot, his, my foot, his.  My hand pressed against his chest right over his heart and his tattoo.  The one that told so much about who he was. 

             
I opened my eyes and raised them to look at him.  He was sound asleep, full lips opened slightly.  His eyes were closed but I knew that light brown pools lay beneath the lids.  Black, thick eyelashes twitched and I wondered who or what had the honor of being a part of his dreams. 

             
Because whether my eyes were closed or open, he was my dream.

Chapter 19

Falcon

It’s not often for me that reality is better than fantasy.  This is one of those times. 
Reed next to me, in my bed, breathing against my chest.  She was the Diane Court to my Lloyed Dobler.  Yes, I relate everything back to the 80’s—sue me.

 

              I fell asleep sometime after the sun had come up.  Until then I stayed up and let myself drown in her presence.  But more than her beauty, I loved her savage pride, her unique innocence, her bravery.  It was here in the darkness of night and warmth of my bed that I made my confession, inside myself and silently to her.  I loved her.  It was too fast, too rushed, too new, but I didn’t care.  I loved her. 

             
She stirred beside me as I said it, acknowledging that some part of her heard my words. 

             
              I woke the next morning and looked down at her.  She studied invisible circles on my bicep made by her fingers.  I bowed my head and mumbled a ‘good morning’ into her hair. She smiled up at me. 

             
“Breakfast?” I said. 

             
She moved to get up and I put my hand over her stomach to stop her.

             
“Don’t get up.  I’m going to run out and grab something.  I’ll be back.”

             
“Oh, thank goodness, I’m so sore.” 

             
I got up and threw on hooded sweatshirt and my Chucks.  I grabbed the keys and my wallet and set out for breakfast.  I went to a local place that made the best omelets and homemade cinnamon raisin bread.  I got two of everything and drove back.  I entered the apartment quietly, not knowing if she was awake or had fallen back asleep.  I glanced at the bed and the latter was true.  The clock read ten thirty and I knew that she was scheduled to work for twelve.  I put the bags on my tiny kitchen counter and kicked my shoes off on the way to the bed.  She had turned, now facing the wall.  I crawled in behind her and pulled her closer to me. 

             
“You’re freezing.” She said.

             
“I know, it’s cold outside.  It’s ten thirty already.  You have to go to work soon.  Unless you want me to call Nellie and tell her that we’re in bed and you’re not going to work.”

             
“I’d never hear the end of it.  She teases me relentlessly already.”

             
“Get used to it.  She calls me ‘bird boy’ and Hawkeye every time she gets a chance.  Last year she bought me a bow and arrow for my birthday and told me it was for when the Avengers were called into action.”

             
“Oh, that’s a good one.  I’m gonna start calling you that.” She giggled.

             
“All right Traitor, get your cute butt up or you’re gonna be running to get to work.”

             
“Ugh, fine.”  She sat up and her hair fell around her face.  I turned to lay on my back and she groaned and plopped her head on my stomach.

             
“No, I tried, I can’t do it.  Call her, I’ll take the teasing.”

             
I slapped her on the butt and slid out from beneath her. 

             
“Come on, I got you an omelet and the best bread ever.”

             
“Ugh—you suck, tempting me with breakfast.”

             
I leaned down and put my lips to her ear. “You’re lucky.  You, on the other hand, tempt me every single second.”

             
“Yeah, yeah—I tempt you so much you haven’t even attempted to kiss me.”

             
“Just because I haven’t doesn’t mean I don’t want to, believe that.”

             
She stuck her tongue out at me and we sat at my tiny little table and ate.  We both showered again and got dressed and I insisted on dropping her off at work.  That way, I would have to pick her up and try to convince her to stay with me again. 

             
I drove to the family house.  My mom and dad had taken the day off and I needed to talk to Mom about Reed.  She knew her circumstances already, I was sure of it. 

             
I pulled into the driveway and walked inside.  They were both sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee with brochures and pamphlets in front of them.

             
“Hi Honey, how are you?” Mom asked while getting me a cup of coffee. 

             
“Well, I came to talk to you.  But what’s all this?” I spotted some brochures that said Spain and one other that said Italy.

             
“We’re going on a second honeymoon after we renew our vows.  We can’t decide between Italy and Spain.”  Dad reached over and kissed Mom’s hand.  I definitely got my gooeyness from him.

             
“I say Italy, not that I get a say.” Dad shuffled the brochures until they were out of the way and cleared his throat.  Chase Black clearing his throat meant that he was ready to hear what I had to say.  Before I could even get started, Owen sauntered in and sat down next to me.

             
He started a conversation about Nellie and before I knew it we were all talking about cribs and changing tables.  It was fine though, because I wasn’t ready for Owen and Nellie to know everything about Reed. 

             
Mom eventually got up from the table and squeezed my shoulder when she said, “I’m headed to the restaurant, even though I’m supposed to be off.  I’ll be in the kitchen doing inventory on the freezer if anyone needs me.”  That was just for me. 

             
We called Maddox and the four of us guys went out for bar-b-que and I ate quickly and scooted out early, feigning sleepiness.  I rushed over to the restaurant to talk to the one person who would know exactly where I was coming from.  I slipped into the back door and headed for the freezer.

             
“Took you long enough, Son, I’ve been freezing my ass off in here.”

             
“Did you just say ass?”

             
“Oh, get over it.  Let’s go in your office so you can get whatever it is off of your chest.  Don’t try to deny it.”

             
I laughed at her and closed the freezer door behind her. We went into my office and I shut the door behind me.

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