Diesel, p.12
Diesel, page 12
Still my parents were long gone and I’d been kicking around the thought of cutting the shit off. If for no other reason it might make me less recognizable to enemies if they see me out.
Something to think about.
I grab a Megadeath T-shirt and slip it on before heading to the kitchen to see what Rory is doing. When I get there what I see has this pain in my chest so intense it stops me in my tracks. It feels like a damn hand has wrapped around my heart.
Squeezing.
Rory is laughing with Ryan. They’re at the bar and Ryan is stirring something in a bowl. There’s flour all over them and some on Ryan’s face. There actually might be more flour on the bar than there is in the bowl—I’d have to look and see, but there’s a lot. Rory doesn’t seem to mind. She’s laughing and when a big plume of flour dust hits her face because Ryan stops mixing whatever this is to help Rory pour more flour in… she doesn’t snap. She laughs. What happens next just makes that pain in my chest increase a million fucking times.
Ryan laughs.
How long has it been since I’ve heard my son’s laughter?
How fucking long has it been?
It’s not a little laugh either. He’s happy.
It’s a full happy laugh that comes from the inside and makes its way out. The sound so fucking good, so fucking joyful that it makes me realize that I haven’t heard it in years. I’ve been so busy trying to protect him, to warn him against danger, to make him alert that he should never let his guard down… that I forgot he was a kid.
A kid who needed to have fun. A kid who needed to laugh. A kid who needed soft touches…
That motherfucking hand squeezing my heart goes so tight, so painful that if I wasn’t leaning on the doorway opening… I’d be brought down to my knees.
Neither one of them know that I’m there. They’re lost in their own little world. Rory reaches down and ruffles Ryan’s hair. It’s just a simple touch, but when my son looks up at her, it’s with adoration that shines—even from where I’m standing.
Fuck.
My motherfucking heart is being ripped out of my chest now. I need to protect Ryan. I like Rory. I love fucking her and I like how she makes me feel, but I should have taken precautions to shield Ryan from her.
What in the hell was I thinking?
What if she hurts him?
“Dad! We’re making pancakes!” Ryan exclaims, his voice full of excitement.
I feel like my skin is fucking crawling. Like I need to claw myself from the inside out to fight the urge to grab my son and take off running.
“You’re going to be late for school,” I answer instead and my voice is gruff, but I’ve got too much shit in my head for it to be any other way.
“Rory says everybody has to have a good breakfast to start their day,” Ryan argues.
“Is that so?” I ask, my voice still tight.
“It’s just pancakes, Noah. I’m sorry. It won’t take long.”
That comes from Rory. I haven’t worked up my courage to turn my eyes to her yet, or to speak to her. I’m not sure I know what I want to say to her—besides get away from my boy, which is not exactly fair, but that’s the emotion running through me.
I swallow as I watch the way Rory’s hand contracts in Ryan’s hair and then slowly leaves.
“I want pancakes,” Ryan insists, his voice hurt and I know he’s missing Rory’s touch because as I watched it leave his head… I missed it.
I clear my throat, still not raising my eyes to Rory. My gaze still frozen on Ryan. I swallow down the bile of bitterness and fear that threaten to pull me under and then I give my son a smile. It’s a fake smile—not like the ones Rory pulled out of me yesterday, but I doubt he can tell that.
“Guess we’re eating pancakes,” I announce and instantly get awarded with my son screaming.
“Yay!”
When my boy looks at me with his tiny face so happy that his grin takes over…. My own smile stops being fake.
I’ll give him pancakes.
What can be the harm in that?
28
Rory
Quicksand.
That’s what it feels like I’m walking on when I’m around Noah in the daytime. Gone is my playful, giving lover from last night. Gone is the man who made me forget to worry and just take each glorious minute and cherish it. That’s not the Noah I have now. The Noah I have now is the same man who told me stop using his son to get to him. The same Noah who told Sheila off at the pool. The same Noah that I kind of hated, even while noticing how hot he was.
That makes this morning after really not good. I do my best to keep my smile pasted on my face while I help Ryan make pancakes. I had planned on adding sausage, but now I’m thinking that’s a bad idea. Now I’m thinking the quicker this gets done, the better. Which is why we only made a big batch of pancakes and Ryan is now decorating them.
“Rory found chocolate chips, Dad! We’re going to make faces!”
“You’re going to make them,” I laugh, giving Ryan’s hair another ruffle.
He’s such a great kid and he’s dying for love. You don’t have to be a genius to see that, or maybe it’s because of the life I led and the family I had that I see it. Whatever the reason, it screams at me.
“Rory seems quite prepared,” Noah says and his voice still sounds light, but I can tell it’s not. I can tell he’s not happy. I don’t have to ask him why either.
He doesn’t want me around his son.
I swallow down the hurt. He laid things out for me last night. Considering what I didn’t know, but could hear in Noah’s voice about Ryan’s mom, and then hearing his promise about protecting his son and the whole spiel about the second girl in his life… I could understand it. The problem is that you can understand where someone is coming from, but that doesn’t mean it makes the hurt any less when someone you just had the best sex in your life with, spent hours talking to afterwards and then had sex again… lets you know that you’re not welcome in his home or his life in the morning hours… all that and he really doesn’t want you around his son.
Noah might not have said that with words, but in this instance, actions definitely speak louder than words.
“Ryan, that’s so cute,” I laugh, trying to drag my mind away from Noah and his stony silence—or the fact that he hasn’t even looked me in the eye since he came into the room.
“What are we going to use for a nose?” Ryan asks, looking up at me with those pretty, green eyes of his sparkling. He’s so happy. It makes me wonder what happened to his mother? If she’s as bad as Noah indicated then she has to be seriously whacked. That said, evidence was pointing to the fact that Noah was an asshole, so maybe the mother just couldn’t deal with Mr. Bipolar and fled. It doesn’t excuse her for leaving behind Ryan, but at least it would explain her absence.
“I have some whipped cream and strawberries at the house. I’ll go—”
“I’ve got a tub of whipped topping in the freezer, Cupcake,” he says and I frown. I look at him and it’s a change. He’s looking at my face now—at least, but it’s an impassive look… cool and distant. I’m also starting to see a pattern. He only calls me “cupcake” when he’s irritated, or treating me like a jerk—which he definitely is right now.
“It will be frozen. I’ll just go to the house and get mine. That way Ryan’s masterpiece will be complete.”
“You’re not going to your house alone, Rory. Just put the gunk in the microwave and give it a few minutes. Besides, I need to get Ryan to school.”
“Awe, Dad! Can’t I stay home? Rory and I could cook supper together!” Ryan complains and despite Noah pissing me off, I find myself laughing.
“You have to go to school, Little Man, but I tell you what.”
“What?”
“I’ll pick you up after school and we’ll go watch that new Incredibles movie you’ve been wanting to see,” he promises.
Bribery 101.
I’ve never had kids, and it’s starting to look like I probably won’t, but still I spent years as a teacher and bribery had its perks in that position. I imagined it was a hundred times better as a parent.
“Oh cool!!! Can you come, Rory?” Ryan asks.
“I… uh… I don’t think I can, sweetie.”
“Why not?” Ryan asks.
“Well I’m going to be going—”
“Rory will be coming too,” Noah says and Ryan’s reaction to that was loud and instantaneous.
“Yippee! Alright! We’ll have popcorn and taffy! And we can see who can throw popcorn up and catch it in their mouth. Can you do that, Rory?”
“I uh… well I’ve never… I don’t think I can,” I tell Ryan, confused and frustrated and if we were alone I’d probably throw the pancakes—that Ryan is currently putting eyeballs on—at Noah.
“I’ll teach you!” Ryan says, like getting to do that was the greatest thing in the world.
“Go get dressed for school, Ry. While you’re doing that Rory and I will thaw the whip cream.”
“Okay, Dad,” he answers without even a hint of an argument this time. Then, Ryan surprises me. Before he jumps off the stool to run to his room he turns around and wraps his little arms around me, burying his head into my chest.
“Thanks, Rory! This has been the best day ever!” he says, causing my heart to completely melt into a big puddle of goo, as I return his hug.
“I’m having a great time, Ryan. I love making pancakes with you.” I tell him this while I’m hugging him tight and breathing in the baby shampoo scent in his hair.
“Me too!” Ryan says, jumping off the stool with the exuberance only a five-year-old could muster. He runs to his dad and gives him a hug too. He may have said something to him, but I can’t hear it because my head is buzzing in my head that I’m in real danger here.
Once Ryan leaves the room, I turn away from Noah, stacking the dishes in the sink, feeling even more uncomfortable, and pissed off that he put me in the position to hurt his son.
“I’ll get the topping thawed out,” Noah says and I close my eyes trying to figure out where the man was that laughed with me so easily last night and now he’s just an asshole.
Like all the other men in my life.
I took a deep breath and then turned to watch Noah open the freezer compartment in the bottom of his fridge. While I did this a stray thought ran through my mind.
Why would a single father keep whipped topping in his freezer?
The only people I knew who put those in the freezer were women who baked a lot. Then I remembered how he worked my body last night, how playful he could be when he got a mind to be, and I shut down the why. Then, I looked at the whipped topping with a whole other thought and none of it good. He had a drawer full of condoms too. I was probably just a woman in a long line of women. It didn’t matter that he made me feel pretty or that for a minute I felt special to someone.
It was just sex.
“You can’t microwave topping, Noah. It will just become like water,” I warn him. “I’ll just go to the house and get mine, then make up some excuse to Ryan as to why I’m leaving.”
“You can microwave it, Rory. You just have to do it slowly,” he says, plopping the tub in the microwave.
“If you say so, I’d say you have more experience with that than I do,” I shrug, turning to finish the dishes.
“Why would you say that?” he asks, sliding up to sit on the counter like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“No reason.”
“Right,” he says, clearly not believing me.
“Whatever.”
“Never figured you for a wimp,” he says and that pisses me off.
“I’m not a wimp. I’m just trying to clean up the dishes so I can leave with a clean conscious after you and Ryan head out to the school.”
“You’re going with us,” he says. I snag a dish towel and dry my hands and then look at him like he has three noses on the center of his face.
“I’m going with you?”
“That’s what I said, Gorgeous.”
“Don’t call me that,” I growl, at my limit with him.
“Are you this pissed off because I know how to thaw out whipped topping?” he asks, having the gall to laugh.
The beeper to the microwave just keeps going off and he’s ignoring it. So, I walk over to take it out, trying to figure out how to get away with killing Ryan’s father without Ryan getting mad at me. Fortunately for Ryan, I can’t think of a way to do that.
“It’s still frozen,” I huff, knowing I was right.
“You have to stir it,” Noah says, as my body goes completely still. Noah is behind me and suddenly he’s pushing into me, I can feel his front to my back and touching everywhere that is physically possible.
He brings his arms around me, like he’s going to hug me, but instead one of them has a spoon and he stirs the topping with it, while resting his chin against my shoulder. Noah is taller than me, but he’s bending down to make this possible and he’s doing it while his warm breath fans out against my ear—which would feel good if he wasn’t such an asshole.
I try to ignore the shivers that move through me because Noah is so close. My head goes down and I look at my feet, noting strangely that I could use a pedicure, my toenail polish was starting to crack.
“What are you doing, Noah?” I ask him, my voice soft because I was still reeling from the hurt of having him treat me so coolly this morning. It’s a familiar pattern of course. There was no point in asking him. I’m not stupid. He is ice cold when his son is around, hot when we’re alone.
I’m such an idiot.
“Just helping,” he says. “It needs ten more seconds.”
Like an idiot, I put it in the microwave and give it the ten seconds. The minute I do that, Noah spins me around to face him.
“You’re an asshole,” I tell him, and surprise slides over his face.
“I’ve heard that before,” he admits and I just bet he has.
“I only wanted to fix Ryan something good to eat. I wasn’t trying—”
Noah stops my words and he does this by kissing me. I don’t open my mouth for him, I’m too pissed and I use that as fuel to prevent giving in. Then he brings his hand up to gently hold the side of my neck. His thumb reaches out to glide back and forth on my cheek and he pulls back to look at me.
“I’m just dealing with some shit, Rory. It’s not fair and it’s not right, but you’re going to have to deal with it,” he says and I frown. I think over what he says and I come to a decision. It’s a decision I don’t completely like, but it feels like the safest one.
“I don’t want to deal with it.”
“Say again?” he says, sounding shocked.
“I don’t want to deal with it, Noah. I’m too old for the merry-go-round you seem to put me on. After the mess with Tony the last thing I want in my life is another man to give me more messes. I want a quiet life and I want that life to be… mess free.”
“You don’t,” he says, but his face doesn’t have that easy smile.
“I do. Which is fine. I mean we had one night of sex and I’m sure that happens to you often. It doesn’t to me. What we did together isn’t something I do on a regular basis. I don’t have a nightstand full of condoms or a freezer with whipped topping. I live alone and I like alone, because alone you can’t get hurt.”
“Gorgeous—”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather you go back to calling me cupcake. I hate it, but at least when you call me that, I know exactly where I stand with you.”
“Where’s that?”
“You only call me cupcake when you’re going to be a dick or already are a dick, so I can prepare a little more when I hear that name coming at me.”
“Rory—”
“Not that it matters, because I’ll be leaving today and we’ll not see each other again. If you think about it, this whole conversation is really kind of stupid since we really just slept together and then now is now and I’m leaving—”
Noah stops me from rattling on by kissing me. I was in the middle of my tirade, hence my mouth was open. Noah uses that to his advantage and his tongue sweeps in and fills my mouth. I’m almost sure I could have resisted the pull of him if his tongue had stayed out of my mouth. Like this I can’t. My knees instantly go weak and my fingers slide into his hair, that he has pulled up on his head and wrapped around in a bun. I’ve never liked men with long hair, I always thought it would be a turnoff to know they probably take longer to get ready to go somewhere than I do. I also thought it would really suck if a man had beautiful hair and thus, much prettier than my own.
Clearly, I’ve been insane.
Noah’s hair is beautiful, I love everything about it and I especially love how it feels when it scrunches up under my fingers while his tongue is forcefully taking over my mouth and depriving me of oxygen to my lungs.
We break apart and I slowly open my eyes. My heart is thundering in my own ears when I look up into his eyes.
“You aren’t leaving, Rory.”
“I can’t stay here, Noah. Tony won’t stop and he’ll have my brother’s help. I—”
“Someday you will tell me more about this dickweed ex and your obvious dickweed brother,” he says. I frown and say nothing. I’m not sure what a dickweed is, but considering Tony and my brother are a bunch of things, none of them good and these things include being major assholes and mean ones at that… I figure they probably fit the description.
“I’ll write it to you in a letter,” I tell him.
“A letter?”
“From Mexico,” I confirm. “Which is where I’m headed once breakfast is over and I go home and pack.”
Noah smiles and this is a full warm smile and I should hate it, but I don’t.
“You’re not moving to Mexico, Gorgeous.”
“I am. It’s—”
“You’re going to go with Ryan and I to drop him off at school. We’re going to go see the judge about upping your protection and your restraining order. Then, we’re going to come back here and you’re going to show me why you think me having whipped topping in my freezer makes you think I have sex on a regular basis,” he grins.
