Rough Around the Edges

by Ranae Rose

  He could feel his pulse jumping in his throat as he held her gaze, his heart driven by the hint of adrenaline that had entered his veins, courtesy of the remembered nightmares.

  “What?”

  “You being shot. Me losing you. It all ending just after you came into my life and lit up all the dark corners, making me feel like maybe I didn’t fuck up so bad after all. Or at least, if I did, I could get over it, and there was more to life than being angry and empty and bored with the whole damn world.”

  The new nightmares were even worse than the old ones. He could live without the Marine Corps, with being shortchanged by a bomb – he’d done it for a year already. But live without Ally? No. The idea made him feel hollow, deprived.

  “I dream about losing you because that’s become my worst fear, because even when I’m asleep my brain doesn’t stop trying to work out a way to keep it from happening. So yeah, I’m sure I want you to come to New York with me. I’m sure I want to live with you. I want to be with you more than I want anything, and I’m not afraid to admit it.”

  She sighed something that sounded a lot like his name, her eyes still locked with his. “Then I’m not afraid to go with you.”

  * * * * *

  “Feltz.” It had been forever, but all of a sudden, it didn’t feel like it.

  “Moore.” Feltz flashed a huge grin from his seat at the bar, whirling on the stool to face Ryan and Ally. “Thought you were never gonna make it over here. I could’ve come to Baltimore, you know. Wouldn’t have minded the drive.”

  A stab of mingled amusement and alarm crackled through Ryan like electricity. There were reasons why he’d come to Quantico. One of them being that Baltimore wasn’t his to call home or show off. It never had been. “Are you kidding? I guess you don’t have that shitty old Shadow anymore. Did it finally disintegrate into a pile of rust flakes?”

  A year ago, Feltz had still owned his infamous rustbucket. More than a few of the guys in their unit had had a running bet on when and how it would finally expire. Standing there watching Feltz’ grin stretch even wider, Ryan wondered, for the first time in a year, who’d won the bet.

  “Nah, I left the shitmobile behind in North Carolina. Upgraded to something made this century. Traded it in at a dealership. Got about two hundred bucks for it, too.”

  “Wow. The dealer must’ve been feeling generous.”

  So no one had won the shitmobile bet pool, then – no one in the unit would’ve put money on Feltz willingly giving it up.

  “I don’t care what anyone says – it was a damn good car. But yeah, new state, new base – new ride. I’m a changed man. What about you?”

  “I’ll be out of state in a few days, but I’ve still got my Mustang.”

  “Oh, you mean the Super Snake? Yeah, I bet you still have that monster. Is that how you impressed her into going out with you?” He shifted his gaze to Ally. His eyes glittered when he looked at her, and his grin stayed so wide his face had to be hurting.

  “Ally,” Ryan said, drawing the arm he had around her waist a little tighter, “this is Feltz, a good friend from my old unit.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Ally extended her good hand and shook Feltz’.

  “Why don’t we get a table?” Feltz said, rising and abandoning his empty beer glass at the bar.

  A hostess led them to a booth in one corner, and Ryan settled into the bench seat. It was nice to be able to feel Ally against his side, to drape his arm around her shoulders. Her warmth kept him grounded – not that he really needed that, like he’d feared he would.

  Feltz’ hair was still cut in a classic high and tight, and his face was as familiar as his voice. The only thing that had changed about him was his car, apparently. And somehow, the reality of Feltz’ sameness didn’t get under Ryan’s skin like the idea of it had. “So how do you like living the high life in Quantico?”

  Feltz had always hated the muggy Carolina climate. He’d even blamed one or two of the Shadow’s breakdowns on the heat. Being stationed in Northern Virginia with a new car to obsess over had to be somewhere near heaven for him.

  “It’s great. Thought I’d see more of you when I first moved up here, to tell the truth. Now you’re taking off to New York. Guess I’ll have to make new friends.”

  “I’m sure you’ll pull it off.” Feltz had never been an introvert.

  “Yeah, but it could be slow going without the shitmobile to bond over.”

  “Is that what you call breaking down beside a swamp and having to walk five miles to the nearest town together – bonding?” He could still feel the heat of the Carolina sun burning the back of his neck when he thought about it.

  “Hell yeah. It worked, didn’t it? There’s too much public transportation around here and not enough alligators. You walk five alligator-infested miles with someone, and you’re friends. It’s that easy.”

  “There was only one alligator.” And they’d stayed at least five yards from it, even when they’d walked past the marshy creek it had been lounging on the bank of.

  “It was a big one.”

  “The mosquitos and the sun were way worse than the alligator.”

  “Yeah, I remember you freaking out because you thought the sun was going to ruin that tattoo you’d just had done.”

  That was about as exaggerated as the dangers of the lone alligator they’d observed from a distance, but he had been annoyed at having to spend time sweating outside at the peak of noon with nothing between his freshly-inked skin and the sun’s brutal rays but a thin t-shirt. The tattoo had taken a small eternity to finish, and it had been his pride and joy – second only to the Mustang – when finished.

  The ink had stayed true despite the sun exposure, but the joy had faded after his discharge, leaving a sort of austere pride behind – the kind of pride that lingered because he’d never regret being a part of the Marine Corps, even if the ending had been all wrong. The experience was as much a part of him as the ink – more, even. It was impossible to imagine who or where he’d be without it. He tried for a few seconds, but it didn’t work. For some reason, that was strangely comforting.

  Ally leaned a little more heavily against his side, tipping her head against his shoulder and letting it rest there. A hint of scent rose from her hair, sweet and fresh. “This isn’t hurting your arm, is it?”

  She still wore the sling, and would for a little while.

  “No, sitting like this is perfect. Don’t move.”

  Feltz grinned like a shark at the waitress who took their drink orders.

  “Was that the first time you’ve seen a woman since moving up here?” Ryan asked as Feltz stared after the waitress.

  “No, but I’ve got a new lease on life now that I’ve got a new car. Do you have any idea how hard it was to get a girl to go out with me in the shitmobile? That was the main reason I traded it in.”

  “Finally, the truth comes out. I knew you didn’t just get tired of the car yourself.” The very notion defied the two pillars of Feltz’ personality – loyalty and frugality.

  “Easy for you to say; you’ve got that badass Mustang. I bet you never broke down beside a swamp or had to keep duct tape in the trunk in case the bumper fell off. Picking up women would be a piece of cake. Not,” he added, looking at Ally as his grin finally faded, “that he went around womanizing all of North Carolina.”

  “Thanks for clearing that up,” Ryan said, only somewhat sarcastic. There was the sense of loyalty that had bound Feltz to his pre-owned Shadow for over a decade.

  “No problem.” Feltz’ grin sprang back into place. “Ally, I solemnly swear that he was the most unhelpful friend in the history of mankind when it came to picking up women. I used to practically beg him to let me borrow the Mustang or at least go out to the bar with me, but he always had to go to the gym.” He rolled his eyes. “You still do that MMA stuff, or—”

  Feltz shut up on his own – a rarity, to say the least – and sat in silence, his gaze wandering briefly over Ryan’s head and bo
dy before he looked away, scanning the room as if wondering where the waitress was with their drinks. “Shit,” he said, turning back to face Ryan after the woman failed to make an appearance. “I mean, of course you don’t anymore. Sorry to dredge it up. I know you loved having a good excuse to beat the hell out of people.”

  “Actually, I got back into it.” Ryan held his breath for no reason, then exhaled when he realized what he was doing. Why did it matter if Feltz knew he’d gotten back into MMA?

  “Really?” Feltz’ eyebrows climbed a few inches up his forehead, but that was all he said.

  “Yeah. But now that I’ve got this going on, I’m taking a break.” He raised the arm he had in a cast, sensing the question in Feltz’ eyes. “Fell off a ladder at work.”

  “Nothing wrong with taking a break.” Feltz drummed his hands on the table as the waitress approached, looking half embarrassed and half flattered by Feltz’ undisguised smile.

  Maybe Feltz was right. The idea of a break wasn’t something that horrified Ryan anymore, like it would’ve just a few weeks ago. Now, he had something even more important. It wasn’t the inside of a cage that kept him looking forward to the future, striving to make it through another day. It was Ally.

  After the waitress left, Feltz pulled his hands off the table and settled back into his side of the booth. “So are you gonna tell me how you two met? I could use some tips on how to attract beautiful women willing to put up with as much crap as Moore has to be giving you, Ally.” He flashed a grin at Ryan. “No offense, Moore.”

  “None taken. But I don’t think you’re going to find another woman like her.”

  “Too bad.” Feltz didn’t let it go at that. He kept joking, and eventually he got out his phone and started scrolling through photos – old photos Ryan hadn’t seen in a year, at least. He teased Ally, saying something about men in uniform, but he also looked across the table at Ryan, his expression serious for half a second.

  Ryan just shrugged and nodded. Ally was smiling as she stared at the screen, her gaze glued to pictures that had been taken everywhere from North Carolina to Afghanistan. He looked too, and the images were familiar, but not jarring. His old life stared back at him in vivid color, and he’d probably never look at snapshots of those years without feeling some sort of regret, but he still longed for the future, in New York.

  It was time for a new life, not just a shell of one, trying to scrape by. Finally.

  Chapter 23

  “Come on, baby.” Ryan motioned for Ally to follow him toward the entrance of the high rise. It was sand-colored and box-shaped, a modern complex that was only a few years old. He’d practically been able to hear his father rolling his eyes when he’d told him over the phone where he wanted to live.

  Still, his father had made arrangements to rent out a unit for Ryan and Ally and had assured him it would be ready when they arrived. He’d even mailed the key.

  Together, he and Ally made their way past the doorman and the fitness center on the first floor. “This place has got a terraced roof, too,” he said as they stepped into the elevator. The building was nice, no matter what his parents thought. It made his apartment back in Baltimore look like shit, and he knew Ally would appreciate their home despite the fact that it wasn’t dripping with overwhelming luxury, like his parents’ place.

  They got out at the sixth floor, and their door was just around the corner. The key worked, and the door swung inward easily, granting them their first view of their new Brooklyn home. “Well, I’d carry you over the threshold, but something tells me it would be more clumsy than romantic with my arm in this cast.”

  She smiled and followed him inside, pulling her suitcase behind as he did the same.

  They abandoned their suitcases in the foyer, where a row of coat hooks gleamed on the wall. “Shall we give ourselves a tour?”

  Ally nodded. “Sure.”

  She hadn’t said much since they’d gotten off the plane at La Guardia a couple hours ago, but she hadn’t complained, either. He didn’t blame her for her near-silence – New York was a lot to take in, especially considering the circumstances under which they’d left Baltimore, where she’d lived her entire life.

  The bathroom was nearly twice the size of the one he’d had back in Baltimore and was done in cream tile and white fixtures. Nothing out of the ordinary, except the matching towel. One hung on the ring beside the sink, and a sneaking feeling told him that he’d find more if he opened the closet. There was a coordinating shower curtain, too.

  “There are pots and pans,” Ally said when they entered the kitchen. Cookware hung from a gridded light fixture above the stove, and there were small appliances on the counters. “Did those come with the apartment?”

  Ryan walked a slow circuit of the kitchen, letting a hand skim the surface of one countertop. “I don’t know.” What kind of apartment came with a blender? A brand new blender, at that.

  An apartment that his mother had been unleashed on, probably.

  A tour of the bedroom confirmed his suspicions. A cherry wood dresser loomed in one corner and the matching bed was practically buried beneath a landslide of linens and pillows. The apartment lacked any personal belongings like photos or knick-knacks, but the furnishings made it look like something out of a magazine.

  A hot sort of anger unfurled inside him and heated his blood by a few degrees. It would take forever to pay his parents back for the upscale furniture his mother had chosen, especially when he needed to take care of Ally’s hospital bills first. Why couldn’t they just have taken care of the rental papers and left the unit untouched like anyone in their right mind would have done?

  They had no regard for what he wanted, even if indulging their own wishes buried him in debt.

  “I didn’t realize the apartment came already furnished,” Ally said as they stepped into the living area. She ran a hand over the leather loveseat’s armrest. “This feels brand new.”

  “I don’t think it was supposed to come furnished,” he said, raising an eyebrow at the seating – forget the cherry wood, the leather was of such obviously high quality that he could practically see dollar signs reflected on its shining surface.

  “Oh.” Ally looked around the room again, her voice soft as her eyes widened a little.

  “Do you like it?” He stood in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets. “The apartment, I mean.”

  “It’s great.”

  She sounded like she meant it, and that eased his ire a little. The one upside of having such expensive furnishings forced upon him was that Ally undoubtedly deserved them – she deserved the best of everything.

  “Don’t you like it?” she asked, turning to face him.

  “I do,” he said, crossing the distance between them. “But I think we need to make it ours.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll show you.” He took her by one hand and led her to the kitchen. “Remember our first time at my old place?”

  “Yes.” She looked up at him, eyes questioning.

  “What do you say we make it a tradition?” He wrapped her in a one-armed embrace that was a little awkward, but still effective. Using his hip and the strength of his back to lift her, he managed to get her up onto the countertop without making a complete idiot out of himself.

  “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

  He stripped away the boots and jeans she’d put on that morning in Baltimore, before they’d left for the airport.

  “You’ve gotten pretty good at taking off clothes one-handed,” she said as he hooked a thumb into one side of her panties.

  “It’s an important skill,” he said, meaning every word as he tugged her panties off and threw them aside.

  Forgetting about the shining appliances and new furniture they were surrounded by, he dropped until his knees hit tile. With his head between her legs, he exhaled, letting his breath stir the faint, sweet smell of her pussy before he inhaled again. The scent set something like fireworks off inside his head
and his mouth watered so suddenly it stung.

  She squirmed as soon as he pressed his mouth against her folds, finding her clit and working his tongue against it.

  It was bound to drive her crazy. He knew that, and that was why he did it, creating wet friction as he let his teeth scrape lightly against her skin, just above her clit.

  When she spread her thighs wider, he slid his tongue lower, tracing the seam of her pussy and dipping inside. His dick throbbed, straining against his jeans as he returned his attention to her clit.

  The kitchen was sizeable and had an open floor plan that let its boundaries blur with those of the living area, but the sound of her breathing filled the room and sent a frisson of anticipation down his spine. Pressing his lips more firmly against her flesh, he fucked her with his mouth and listened to the rush of her breath rise in an unsteady crescendo as she moaned a little, too.

  The cock-stiffening symphony was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone which was, in that moment, the most annoying sound he’d ever heard in his life. Ignoring it, he gripped one of her thighs and held it steady as he pushed his tongue inside her, sampling the tightness of her body before withdrawing and running his tongue over the swell of her clit again.

  She came as his phone’s ringtone died out, just in time to let him hear her ragged sigh. He rode out the motions of her hips bucking against his face, finally stopping when her thigh began to tremble beneath his hand.

  “What do you think?” he asked as he rose, standing between her open thighs. “Does this place feel a little more like home now?” He cupped her jaw with one hand and leaned in, pressing his lips hard against hers.