I guess that’s when they start noticing me ‘cause a ripple of giggles and whispers goes through the room until Story blinks, turns her head, and spots me in the doorway. She don’t lose a step, but that loud, fun girl goes on mute, and her walls come up. Now she looks like she does at The White Van. She’s still smiling, but she’s on guard.
I don’t ever want to be the reason she goes on mute. I want to bail, but I done enough time with Doc to know that’s an avoidance response. Also, bein’ a pussy. I didn’t need to sit on no couches to figure that part out.
Story finishes up the song, and then she thanks the class. I duck inside and lean against a wall to let the ladies out. My heart steps up, expecting that any second, she’ll be close enough to touch. I ain’t caught a whiff of the coconut shit she uses in her hair in too damn long. The need hits me hard.
I didn’t count on the ladies.
I guess Story’s kind of a celebrity at the Shady Gap Rec Center ‘cause she gets mobbed. Five or six ladies, all gabbing up a storm, teasing and joking. And sliding me hard-ass looks out the corner of their eyes. Okay, I see what this is. I guess I don’t look totally harmless in my gym gear.
I catch Story’s gaze and raise an eyebrow. It’s up to her. She gives me the cold shoulder, I’ll get lost.
Her chin wobbles, and she crosses her arms. She says something to the ladies, and after they cackle a good while longer, they file out, givin’ me the hairy eyeball the whole time.
Story don’t come no closer. She stands by an old boombox that she has propped on a chair next to a shoebox full of CDs. She looks so small in the big, empty room, and I can’t wait no more. I stalk to her, my hands ready to warm away the goosebumps down her bare arms, every instinct yelling at me to grab her up and kiss away the hurt in her eyes, but a step from her, my body hits a wall.
It’s my brain, tellin’ me be careful. That what’s wrong can’t be fixed with hands. Panic rises in my chest, but I breathe through it. I got some words now. I fuckin’ pray they’ll be enough.
“What are you doin’ here, Nickel?” she asks.
“Meditation class.” I check my phone. “Starts in twenty minutes.”
Her brow furrows. “Doug’s class?”
“I guess. If he does meditation.”
“He does Tai Chi.”
“Yeah, that’s what it’s called.”
“Where’d you hear about—? Why are you—?”
She ain’t got a frame of reference for this. To be honest, neither do I. I can’t see myself sitting still for an hour straight, but Gail from meeting says it ain’t sitting so much as moving slow. These days, if Gail or Dr. Rosenthal says to do it, I do. I’m givin’ it over to a higher power, and in my case, that’s a really skinny old dude who collects bird paintings and a bossy, middle-aged mail lady.
Eventually, Story gives up on whatever she was tryin’ to ask, and says, “I guess you’d better get along then. Don’t want to be late.”
“I got a few minutes.”
She chews on her bottom lip, and I can hardly stand the stress comin’ off her in waves. The ugly stirs, and—no. Not the ugly; I can’t call it that no more. It ain’t outside of me. It’s my fear or my anger or my feeling of being out of control. Like Doc says, name it so I can deal with it.
And what I’m feeling now? It’s guilt. Plain and simple. I mishandled this beautiful woman, and I’m terrified I can’t make it right, and I want to more than anything in the whole damn world. I search for the words, and everything is not enough, so I just say what’s in my heart.
“You’re so amazing up there. You’re an amazing teacher.”
And maybe God loves me a little after all ‘cause Story’s mouth melts into a soft, happy smile. She forces it away right quick, but it was there. My girl’s still there.
“Yeah?” She tries so hard not to look like she cares.
“Those ladies were havin’ a blast. I thought someone was gonna break a hip.”
The smile tries to sneak back, and I’d fuckin’ stand on my head if I could get it to stay.
“Don’t say that.” She bends and raps her knuckles on the wood chair holding the boombox. “I’ve got a perfect safety record.”
“I don’t know, babe. You teach them moves like that, somebody’s old man is gonna get hurt.”
And there’s that smile again. Pure sunshine. It fades too damn fast.
“You really here for Tai Chi?”
I nod. “And you. I know I’m supposed to stay away, but...”
Sad crinkles show up at the corner of her eyes. She don’t like that.
“Why are you supposed to stay away from me?”
I can’t even remember with her so close, smellin’ so good—never mind the sweat. Her face is wide open, brimming with that beautiful thing she gives me for free, and that I been runnin’ from like a sinner from God. Why am I supposed to stay away? Goddamn, I can’t even remember.
“Somethin’ about having to keep a plant alive for year,” I mumble. “I dunno. I been hanging out with addicts, and they got a lotta rules.”
“Like twelve of them, I heard.”
My lip kicks up. “Somethin’ like that.”
“So. What did you want from me?” She squeezes her arms tighter. She must be getting cold now that she ain’t moving. This basement is dank, and there’s a chill seeping in through the walls. I shrug off my hoodie, and I hold my breath while I drape it over her shoulders. She don’t thank me, but she don’t shake it off neither.
I push my luck and leave my hands fisting the edges, gently tugging, coaxing her closer still. She don’t give an inch, but she stays right where she is, almost in my arms again.
“I guess I wanted to explain. About that night.”
I’ve run these words through my head so many times. I don’t want to make excuses, but I got to make sure she don’t think it had anything to do with her.
“Well, go on.”
“I’d been by my old house on Barrow Road.”
“Out on the flats?”
“Yeah. I had to work some things out.” With my asshole brother, but I don’t want to even say his name here, with her. “Anyway, the house needs to be condemned. It’s boarded up. There’s a fuckin’ RV up on blocks in the front lawn. The place—it just—brought up some shit.”
That’s an understatement. “The shrink thinks I need to confront the past, but I think that place just needs to be burned down.”
I don’t know what to say next. I won’t let any of the ugly Ike was spewing near her, but I need her to understand. I’m looking for the words, but I guess I take too long.
“It’s okay,” she sighs. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s not my business.” She steps back, tryin’ to shake me loose of the hoodie, but I ain’t goin’ nowhere.
“It is your business. Story, you own me. Every piece. Ever since you booted that asshole in the nuts at that field party.”
“You remember that?”
“Yeah. You were badass.”
“I was reckless.”
I shake my head, smilin’ at the memory. “You had my back, all hundred pounds of you.”
“It was two against one.”
“Yeah, baby girl, but I was the one.”
And then she answers, her voice so low, I almost think I’m dreaming it. “You are,” she says.
I tighten my grasp, pulling her closer until she’s pressed against my chest. “Say it again.”
“You are. The one.” She lowers her thick black lashes, looking down all shy, and then she raises those big blue eyes to me, and I’m home. “There’s not a piece of you that I don’t love.”
I mean to say it back, but my mouth is on her, desperate for her taste, for her sweet moans. I nip, she parts her lips, and I slide in, searching out that slippery tongue, and it’s like she comes unwound, throwing her arms around my neck, pushing her hips forward till my dick is throbbing hard against her belly. I get a good ten seconds of bliss before shouts and banging fill the room
.
There’s a bunch of kids in white uniforms barreling through the door, followed by a guy dragging a crate of foam helmets.
“Kid’s karate.” Story’s cheeks go pink, and she bends over to unplug her boombox. “They start at seven. That means your Tai Chi is starting now, too.”
Fuck Tai Chi.
My cock is hard enough to drive nails, and my girl loves me. I want to throw her over my shoulder, feel her thighs clamp around me on my bike while I—Take her back to an empty room at the clubhouse?
This is not how I told myself I was gonna do this. Story deserves more, and she’s gonna get it.
“Gimme this back.” I slip my hoodie off her shoulders and hold it in front of my junk, waiting patiently while she grabs her duffle bag and stows the boombox. Then I walk her out to her car.
We stop next to her beat-up Kia—another thing that’s gonna change—and then we stare at each other like two idiots.
“You goin’ straight home?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She reaches up and strokes my jaw with her soft fingers. “You’re gonna be late.” She’s eating me up with her eyes, and it’s all I can do not to duck my head and start from where we stopped.
“I heard Tai Chi goes slow. I’m fast. I’ll catch up.”
I force myself to step back, open her door, and throw her duffle on the passenger seat. “You still staying with Sunny?”
“Nah. Moved back to my place a few nights back.” That does not reassure me. Also, where’s her fuckin’ escort? I scan the parking lot. No bikes.
“If you’re looking for the prospect, he’ll be here any second.” While she’s speaking, I hear the roar of Boom’s engine. He’s cuttin’ it rather close. We’re gonna have words back at the clubhouse.
Story grabs my chin and forces my eyes back to hers. “What were you sayin’?”
Yeah, right. My plan. “I’ll pick you up there tomorrow then. At eight.”
She cocks her head like I’m crazy. I stop and try again. Do it right this time.
“I mean if you want to go out. Go to Broyce’s. Get some steaks.”
“Like a date?” Her lips curve, and her nose scrunches.
“Like a date.”
She makes me wait, but her eyes are dancin’ in the lamplight. “Okay. I’ll go on a date with you, Nickel Kobald. Since you asked.”
I can’t help but steal another kiss, and then I slap her car door and dash back inside before she can change her mind. A few minutes later, I’m listening to some old dude tell me how the white crane spreads its wings. I know it’s backwards, but I don’t think I was as happy balls deep in Story’s sweet pussy as I am now, Story’s sweet words echoing in my ears, no trace of fear or disgust.
Now that I’m getting out of my own way, there ain’t nothin’ that can come between that girl and me. The road is clear. That nagging feelin’ that everything is doomed to go to shit ain’t nothin’ but bad habit.
Or prior experience, an ugly voice whispers in my head.
And wouldn’t you know, it’s too damn quiet in room 102 to drown the voice out.
CHAPTER 19
STORY
Before I got home last night, Nickel texted me a picture of him lunging with his arm raised.
parts horses mane. srsly thats what its called
this shit aint for me
I don’t know what I love more: the picture or that he must have asked someone to take it. I saved it as the background on my phone.
An hour later, I got another message.
wear a dress tomorrow. no panties.
And then, while I was changing to go to bed, my phone chirped again.
nvrmd. were takin my bike and itll be too cold.
I sent him a pic of my red thong, asking if he’s sure, and then we went back and forth until I fell asleep at three in the morning with my sticky hand still shoved down my pajama bottoms. I wake up with my phone stuck to my cheek and a dick pic in my messages.
I feel bad for nodding off, and I want to call him, hear his grumpy, deep voice and tell him I can’t wait until eight o’clock. He needs to come over right now and take care of this ache between my legs that started when he took my mouth after dance class and hasn’t dulled since.
But I also want to savor every minute of this day. I have a date tonight with Nickel Kobald. It’s like I won the lotto, and I’m walking around with the ticket in my purse.
I go to class, and I don’t even care that after the teacher says good afternoon, I’m totally lost. I write down whatever I can catch, and for once, I don’t leave feeling like crap. Instead of beating myself up, I call Fay-Lee. She tells me to come over, and she’ll do my nails and let me shop in her closet.
When I get to her place, Dizzy’s kids are sprawled in the living room, playing video games.
“’Sup?” Parker grunts, giving me a head nod.
“’Sup?” Carson echoes.
These young dudes are way too cool for school.
“We’re gonna be upstairs,” Fay-Lee says. “Stay out of your dad’s beers.” She swats the back of Parker’s head, and he ducks, keeping his eyes glued on the screen. “And don’t bug us or I’ll spit in your dinner, and I won’t tell you until after you clean your plate.”
“So what you’re sayin’ is that you’re makin’ dinner tonight?” Parker grins. He’s growing his hair long like his daddy. He’s got to be breaking hearts at the middle school.
“You should make mac and cheese,” Carson pipes up. “With the crumbs on top”
“I ain’t your real Mama. I don’t have to do what you say,” Fay-Lee sasses, tugging me toward the stairs.
“While you’re under my roof you will!” both boys shout back in unison, laughing.
“Anyone ever tell you that you have a weird relationship with your stepkids?” I tease. In truth, I have mad respect for her. Before she came around, the boys ran wild.
“I like them; they like me. They stay out of my shit, and I stay out of theirs. It’s all good.”
She acts like she doesn’t care, but she slips those boys cash for pop and chips all the time, and she goes to all their games. I know ‘cause she tries to drag me, too, to keep her company.
Fay-Lee pulls me down the hall to the master suite and pushes me down on her big-ass bed. It’s made, and the sheets smell fresh, else I’d find somewhere else to sit. Her and Dizzy get down to some freaky shit, I know for a fact.
She rummages on her vanity for a basket full of nail polish, and drops it in front of me while she goes to the en suite.
“Pick,” she orders through the open door.
Fay-Lee has about two dozen polishes, like in a salon. She even has some Chanel. Dizzy spoils her rotten. She’s got a huge walk-in closet filled with clothes and shoes, and Dizzy just put in a hot tub out back ‘cause she asked. I’d be totally jealous if she wasn’t my best friend and pretty much the sweetest person on the planet.
I sort through and pull out two glittery pinks while she comes back with cotton balls and her manicure kit.
“Want to watch the soaps?” Fay-Lee kicks off her shoes and sits across from me.
“There are still soaps on TV?”
“Shut your mouth. They’re making a comeback.”
“They are?”
Fay-Lee ignores me and turns on the television.
I hold up the two pinks, but she snatches them, tosses them back, and pulls out a pale lavender. “This’ll match your eyes.”
She grabs my hands, placing one on each of her thighs, and dabs some remover on a cotton ball. “You should be happy I like soaps. That’s the only way I’m able to keep up with you and Nickel.”
I stick out my tongue, and wriggle back so my back is supported by the stack of pillows at the head of the bed.
“So, you gonna tell me how this date happened? You finally text that boy back?”
I blush. “He came to the rec center.”
“He bring a dozen roses?”
“He was there to take a Tai Chi class.
”
“Nickel Kobald?”
I nod.
“The guy who I have literally never seen without busted knuckles or a black eye?”
I nod again.
She’s quiet a minute as she scoops up my right hand to examine my cuticles and then starts filing my nails.
“Don’t surprise me,” she says.
“No?” It surprised the shit out of me.
“You seen my new hot tub?”
“Yeah.” I’m not thrown by the change of subject. Fay-Lee has attention deficit like a dog in a yard full of squirrels. “Can we hop in later?”
“You know it. We’ll get Parker to bring us drinks. I’m teaching him how to make cosmopolitans.”
“Fay-Lee! That’s awful.”
“I know. He can’t get the proportions right ‘cause he’s got no taste for vodka.”
“You’re joking.”
Fay-Lee shoots me her crooked smile, the faint scar in the corner of her mouth making it adorably wonky. “I am. Kid’s more of a whiskey man, but he ain’t too bad at mixing.” She settles down and starts buffing my cuticles.
“Just sayin’,” she goes on. “Steel Bones goes big. After that shit went down at Twiggy’s, I was feelin’ it.” Fay-Lee’s face goes bright red. Bet it wasn’t only wrestling that Rebel Raider that put a hitch in her giddy up. “I happened to mention a hot tub would be awesome, and not a week later, prospects were out there digging a foundation.”
“Dizzy’d give you the moon. Everyone knows that.”
“And remember that Charge bought Kayla a car, and he renovated Boots’ place for her and her kid?”
I’m not catching her point.
“Shit. Scrap Allenbach did a dime bid for Crista Holt.”
We’re both silent, a moment of respect. It don’t seem fair. Scrap gave a third of his life for her, and Crista won’t give him the time of day. That’s messed up business.
“Anyway,” Fay-Lee continues. “You want a man who can control himself, I guess Nickel Kobald’s gonna become a Zen master. Steel Bones don’t do half measures. You watch. That dude’s gonna be one of those guys who can catch a fly with his chopsticks.”
Nickel's Story: A Steel Bones Motorcycle Club Romance Page 18