Let Me Go
Page 4
“One day, Robbie, you’ll miss it.” I gripped her tighter, telling her she’s not going anywhere. I can picture her hazel eyes staring up at mine pouring with love. “No, but if something ever happens to me, you’ll miss my love for cinnamon rolls. You’ll miss my legs wrapped around you on your bike. You’ll miss me sneaking sips of your pop.”
My fists clench from the memories of that conversation and my eyes unconsciously divert to the booth—our booth. Carly had no idea how right she was. Her comments were in good nature, playful banter between a couple that loved one another. Never would I have considered months after that, how right she would be.
My mom tucks her hand in mine removing me from the haunting nightmare. She offers me a reassuring smile, and then her shoulders slump. “I’m sorry, Robbie, I should have remembered.” It’s not her fault; there aren’t many places in our small town where memories of Carly don’t drown me.
I force back the pressure building behind my eyes. Shaking my head, I peer down to the woman who knows exactly what it’s like to be caught between sorrow and happiness. “Nah, this place is great.” I muster up a fake smile, and place my hand on the small of her back to follow the hostess to our table.
Thankfully, she leads us in the far back by the bathrooms, and as much as I want to escape through the door and come to grips with the good memories built here that turned sour, I don’t. Instead, a mask of indifference covers my face as I pull out my mom’s chair. She sits down and stares up at me with graciousness. “Thank you, Robbie.” Her appreciation is the only reason I’m back in this crap-filled town.
I sit across from her and notice gray hair around the temples. Although I hate it’s a sign of her getting older, I like her when she’s not so obsessed about her physical appearance. Back when I was in high school, I hated that my friends would love to check my mom out, or hearing the sly comments about her being a MILF.
After a waitress, that thank God doesn’t know us, comes over and writes down our orders, my mom places her linked hands on the table signaling it’s time. “So, how have things been?” I get the sympathetic sad eyes, and the turned down lips. It’s the sole reason I’ve never told anyone in Western about the accident, Carly, my dad, or any personal shit. Well, I did tell Brady and Sadie a small portion of it when I returned from Krypto. I guarantee it’s the sole reason they allowed me to move back in.
“They’ve been good, Mom. I’m working.” I relax back in my chair, my one arm extended across the table, nervously fiddling with the fork.
“Have you given more consideration to school?” I’ve already prepared my answer for this question on the drive down. She’s been hounding me about it for six months. “I talked to Dad—”
“You talked to Dad?” I bolt up straight in my seat. “Why the hell were you talking to him?” My voice raises and a few heads glance over. Let them, I can give a shit.
“Calm down, Robbie.” Why the hell should I? He destroyed her, destroyed our family more than I already did.
“No! Tell me why on Earth you’d talk to that piece of shit?” I drop the fork and grab the knife, playing with it in my hands.
“It was about you. He wants to reconnect.” She sits back in her seat and knots the napkin in her hands.
“Well, that’s not going to happen, so you can forget it.” I stare down at the table as my blood boils. I wish she wouldn’t bring him up here, not now. I’m barely holding my shit together without thinking of him.
“He wants to pay for your schooling. He—we both want you to finish, Robbie.” A tear trickles down her cheek and it rips my chest open. My dad caused enough tears, I’m not about to. How do I not do something she’s asked, she practically saved me—twice.
“I don’t know if I want to go back. If I did, I have no clue if I’d even go back into business.” She fixes her eyes on me. “What?”
“Your dad wants you to run the company.” The napkin is practically spun into a ball now.
My family owns a packaging company in Mill River. The same town where people give me sideway glances, or whisper when I pass by. The same town I swore I’d never return to as a permanent residence. That will never change, no matter what my dad wants.
“Not going to happen.” My voice is flat and final. She realizes there’s no reason to continue the discussion and she won’t chance me running out of here.
“Just think about it. The offer is on the table, okay?” She extends her arm across the table and grips my hand in hers. Squeezing tightly to get my attention, I look up and she’s softly smiling. “Okay?”
I nod, “okay.” The waitress comes over and positions our sandwiches in front of us. I ordered the Rueben with extra sauce and a side of fries.
“Why are you frustrated lately? Work?” She mumbles through a bite of her tuna melt.
I shake my head. “Not really. Just not playing as much as I would like. The band is struggling to find time to practice and play shows.” I’m the most honest with my mom, but even that is limited.
“Should you find another band?” Here’s the bit of information I’ve left out from my mom. She doesn’t know how I ditched the guys to tour with Krypto. And although she knows Jessa from me bringing her home for Thanksgiving two years ago, she has no idea what I did to her.
“No. I just need to find some answers soon on what I’m going to do with my future.” She places her food down and then reaches for my hand again.
Tapping her hand on mine, she smiles. “I like that word coming out of your mouth. Future.” There was more than a few times I didn’t want one, but I do now. Just not sure what it will entail.
“Enough of the sappy crap, okay?” I slide my hand out from hers and pick up my sandwich. “Tell me something good.” It’s a game we started after I returned from tour to allow ourselves to see the good in life, not only the bad.
She proudly sits up in her chair, wiping her hands on the napkin. “Well, I started working out again. I’ve been going to the gym three days a week.”
“That’s great. Do you think you’ll start teaching again?” My mom used to be an aerobics instructor before she caught my dad sleeping with her partner. She came in early because new equipment was being delivered and found my dad’s hands all up on her best friend’s tits. Classic story. How cliché could he get? She quit after that, fell into a depression and I wondered if she’d ever return to her passion.
“I’ve been thinking about it. There are so many new fitness regimens that have evolved, I’d have to attend some classes.” The enthusiasm in her voice and smile on her face brings hope that she will.
Taking another bite of my sandwich, “you should,” I agree before chewing.
“Robbie, don’t talk with your mouth full,” she chastises and I roll my eyes, bringing a laugh out of her. “What about you? Tell me something good.”
Brown bouncy curls and pajama pants rush to my mind immediately, but I’m not sure I’m ready to share her with my mom yet. I know she’d be excited and probably a little too hopeful. I’m not even sure why because Paige will be a good fuck, but I have to remind myself that’s it. I like my heart cold because with warmth it morphs too similar to glass which makes it too easy to shatter again. I made the mistake of bringing Jessa home, and then when she got too close and my feelings became too real, I threw her away. It was embarrassing having to dodge my mom’s questions about Jessa and what happened for several months. Because Jessa deserved better than what I ever gave her. I now know I have to be positive the next girl is a sure thing before my mom’s already scorned heart becomes invested. “Um . . . I won my race last week. One thousand big ones in my pocket.”
Disappointment roots in her face. “Robbie, I know you won’t listen to me, but be careful.”
“I will—I am.” My assurance appeases her for now.
“I’m glad that you have a good in your life though.” She sips her iced tea. I’m sure she remembers the days when only darkness filled both of our lives.
Me too.
“This is right up your alley, huh?” He extends his legs out to the coffee table and crosses his ankles.
Propping up on my elbow, I rest my head in my palm. “Yeah, I love this guy.” I point to the bald, no-nonsense guy that’s in charge of the renovation.
“I’ve never seen this one.” He inches closer to hear.
“Shit, again? I swear those two never give it a rest.” He comes over, snatches the remote and then picks up my legs, eliciting a flutter in my belly and sits down.
After he positions my legs back over his lap, he turns up the volume. His eyes never veer my way. It’s comfortable and intimate the way we’re sitting. Knowing he’s probably trying to warm me up to his bed, especially hearing Chrissy’s cries for more to Dex upstairs, I begin to scoot up. His hand clamps down on my legs, halting my movement. “Friends, right?” He winks and those blue eyes are so crystal clear, you can’t miss the torment that swims in them.
“Yeah,” I mumble and relax into the couch. I try to concentrate on the television. How the owners have neglected their property and Mr. Bald man fights to fix it, but all I can focus on is Rob’s thumb massaging mindless circles on my calf. His caressing is nice and gentle, as though he’s perfectly content and doesn’t realize he’s even doing it.
Ten minutes later, Dex barrels down the stairs with basketball shorts on and a bare chest. He’s muscular, bulky, and tattooed. Good-looking for sure, but not my type. I prefer the lean muscle, like the guy whose fingertips are giving me goose bumps right now. When he stops in the doorway, I chance a glance toward Rob. His relaxed muscles still defined with his T-shirt tight along his biceps. He’s my type and God would I love to screw him, but there’s no way I’ll set myself up for failure. Guys like Rob only stay interested until you give them what they want.
“What are you two doing?” Dex asks, bringing me back to the present.
“What does it look like?” Rob’s hand never stops the motion on my calf and when I attempt to slide my legs out, he grips them tighter to keep them in place.
“Looks like you’re about to piss Chrissy off.” His eyebrows arch. “I just thoroughly fulfilled her every wish, so I’d like it to stay that way for awhile.” His fingertips grip the frame of the door and his body leans into the room. His muscles are impressive; I’m not going to lie.
“Obviously, if she’s not in complete exhaustion on your bed and unable to get up, you didn’t do too good of a job.” Dex shakes his head and then steps into the room and picks up a pillow from the chair, throwing it at Rob’s head.
The two of them chuckle and then Dex struts into the kitchen. “Hey, grab me a beer,” Rob calls out and then spins in my direction. “Do you want anything?”
“Sure . . . a beer.” I figure with no classes tomorrow, I’ll indulge.
“Paige, too.”
Dex comes back in with the beers in his hand. “Thanks.” Then he departs the room just as quickly, running back up the stairs.
“You invested in this show?” Rob asks and I face him, knowing an idea is swarming in his brain as he moves to sit up.
“No, why?” I cautiously ask, fearing I’m setting myself up for a sexual advance.
“You want to play a little rummy?”
“You mean a card game?” I clarify because I didn’t peg Rob as a guy who lounged around on a Saturday night, playing cards.
“Yeah. Do you know how to play?”
“I do, but I guess—never mind. Sure.” My legs slide out from his calloused palms and he never moves until my feet clear his body. He’s stepping up his game and from the heat between my legs, it’s working.
Rob flicks off the television, digging into a drawer and then we venture to the kitchen. He shuffles the cards and I grab a piece of paper and pen from our junk drawer. “So, how often do you play this game?” I narrow my eyes to get an idea of how easy I should go with him.
“I don’t think I’ve played since I was twelve.” He shuffles like a pro, bridging the cards and allowing them to fall in his hands.
“For some reason, I don’t believe you.” I open the pantry door and grab a bag of my microwave popcorn. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who doesn’t have motives two steps before his actions.”
He laughs. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.”
I place the package in the microwave and press the button. “I’m a little surprised you’re missing your signature apparel this evening,” Rob comments, and when I swivel around, he’s leaned back in his chair, his fingers strumming along the table. This incredible sexual response comes over me, that he was admiring me going about doing a mundane task. The pleasure brings so much warmth through my veins, I wish he was mine and I could saunter over and straddle his lap. I ache to grind against the hardness I created, as his hands would find my ass.
Instead, I swallow the urge. “Oh, well, laundry day.”
He nods, his eyes moving up my legs. “I’m not sure which one I prefer.”
I laugh. “Really? Pajama pants with absurd expressions are your things?”
“Not usually, but on you they are.” My breathing stops before sputtering back up. Our eyes meet and an unbearable inner excitement flows through me. The more I swim in the blues of his eyes, the more he spins me in his web of magnetism. Just as I’m about to ignore my mind’s resistance, I jolt from the beep of the microwave and quickly spin on my heels. Grabbing the bag, I toss it back and forth in my hands because it’s so hot.
Rob laughs behind me and then the chair legs scrape along the floor and his footsteps thump behind me. “Let me help you.” He relieves the burn in my hands, opening the two corners. Steam rushes out of the bag and I grab a bowl to pour it into. We accomplish the menial job together as a team. He’s about to retreat back to the table, when he stops, leaning forward. “I like that I give you that reaction.” He whispers and I lick my lips out of reflex.
“Keep doing that and I won’t stand a chance in keeping my distance from you.”
“What if I don’t want you to?” The words slip out of my mouth before I can filter them.
“Hmm . . .” He places the bowl on the counter and then nears closer, gripping the counter on either side. “Believe me, Paige, you do.” My heart stammers and the edge of the counter digs into my palm.
Then he backs away and goes back to the table, leaving me mute stricken and frozen in place. Perfect timing when Chrissy strolls into the room. Her hair is a mess, and she’s wearing boxer shorts and a tank top. She’s giving off her cute and hot look. “What are you guys doing?” She passes by me, questioning me from the corner of her eyes.
“We’re about to play rummy!” I announce a little too excitedly.
Her head rears back and she appraises me. “Okay,” she giggles. “Sounds awesome, do you guys want to order pizza, or Philly cheese steaks?” She begins digging in the overstuffed drawer filled with menus and Dex penetrates into our little party, finally wearing a shirt.
“Babe, let’s do Chinese.” He offers a suggestion and Chrissy digs in the drawer again. Rob’s eyes narrow to Dex.
“Way to ruin our moment,” Rob says and Chrissy’s head whips around to him and then flashes to me. Her eyes filled with assumptions.
“Did we?” she asks curiously, but I shake my head.
“No, I just made popcorn.”
“Bullshit,” Rob coughs out and I peer over Chrissy’s shoulder and widen my eyes from his immature behavior at Chrissy’s expense.
“We bonded over our roommates fucking like damn rabbits,” I joke and Chrissy’s face beats red.
“You heard us?” she whispers.
&n
bsp; “Fuck yes, we heard you. Seriously man, stuff her panties in her mouth,” Rob tells Dex, and I shoot him a confused look like is that something he’d do.
“Shut up,” Dex demands, flipping the chair backward, which I’ve come to realize is his favorite way to sit unless Chrissy’s on his lap.
“It gets Paige and me all hot. Pretty soon, we’ll have no choice but to screw each other just to relieve the pressures your screams entice.” Rob doesn’t stop his complete babble.
Chrissy doesn’t look at the guys, her face getting redder by the second. I swing my arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, girl. I’m jealous. I’ve gone through more batteries these past months that I’m about to look into rechargeable.” She giggles and I’m glad I can lighten her embarrassment.
She pulls out the menu and we both spin around, finding Rob dealing the cards. Chrissy sits next to Dex, which leaves me the seat between her and Rob. He stares at me through the corner of his eye when I sit down. Once the cards are spread on the table, he grabs a fist full of popcorn. “Maybe we should play strip poker. Or better yet, we could play for sexual favors. How about it Paige?” He eyes me and now it’s my turn to flush.
“We aren’t having an orgy, Rob.” Chrissy speaks first and hands the menu over to me. “What do you want to eat, Paige?”
I’m glancing over the menu when Rob leans in closer to look himself. “You want to share something, I’m not all that hungry,” he asks me and there’s something about sharing a meal that is too intimate. With Chrissy and Dex in some discussion about what they are going to order, he leans in close so only I can hear him. “I’m asking you to share a meal, not be my meal.” I gasp from his words and then his hand grazes my knee. The excitement that comes over me from the stroke of his fingers still surprises me. My body has never reacted like this to a guy before.
My eyes catch his when I face him and my stomach flutters, but I try to maintain a stable infliction so he doesn’t sense my desire. “How about Sweet and Sour Chicken?”
IT TOOK MORE convincing than I would have liked for Paige to agree on coming to Ace’s for our show tonight. Watching her in the circular booth with Sadie and Chrissy, she fits. She wiggles and shifts along the vinyl seat, indicating maybe she’s not as comfortable as I presumed. The booth is reserved for The Invisibles and our girlfriends, or girls we choose to sit there on the nights of our show. Once Sadie started dating Brady seriously, the girls we used to want to screw were no longer welcome. Sadie and Jessa made it theirs from the first night they came.