The Rebellion

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The Rebellion Page 18

by S. L. Scott


  “The day I met you, he told me to call you over so he could talk to you.” We can’t be more than what we’ve been without honesty and the purest of truths, even if it hurts to reveal them. “I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t what?” she asks.

  “I didn’t call you over for him. I betrayed him and called you over for me.”

  “Oh Derrick.” Her words are trapped in the palm of her hands as she covers her face.

  Moving to the bed, I sit down next to her and roll her to the side so she’s cradled to me. “I couldn’t stop myself. I never knew what love was until I saw you that day. I didn’t know what a heart felt like until it started beating for the first time for you. I know now that it wasn’t my chest aching. The moment I saw you, it was my soul trying to escape to be with you.” I see her struggling emotionally and hold her.

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because he may have liked you, but I loved you. I loved you before I knew you.” With tears building in the corner of her eyes, she sits up and angles her body. As soon as one falls, I wipe it away. “I’m sorry. What happened to you was because I fucked him over. I’m sorry, Jaymes.” Her arms are around me as I lean my head on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

  Quiet murmurs and warm breath cover my neck. “You’re not to blame. I would have never been with him.” She stalls and then corrects herself, “Not by choice.” God, what have I done to this woman? She raises my head up until I’m looking at the face of the angel I destroyed. She adds, “The day I saw you, my heart knew I’d never survive you.” Releasing a long breath, her face changes back to the one I know, the one I recognize so well—beauty and strength. “But I will survive him.” She kisses me.

  I don’t deserve forgiveness or sweetness, but I receive, crave it, and am given it anyway. Rolling to the side, she manages to smile. “God, it’s such a weight off, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Since we’re confessing, I kind of already told you, but thank you for being so gentle the other night. It was the first time since . . . Anyway, it meant a lot to me that you treated me with such care.”

  “It’s how I feel about you.”

  “I know and I feel the same about you. One day, the horrors of our past won’t haunt us any longer, but until that day, I’m glad we can be so open. It’s the only way we can forgive ourselves and each other and move on.”

  I hadn’t realized how much guilt I’ve carried until I saw her tears. Jaymes has always been so strong, so amazing. Knowing she was broken because of me hasn’t sat well since we talked that night. Now it’s her forgiveness I need. I don’t deserve it. I left her and a monster took her. “Do you forgive me?”

  “Silly man, there’s nothing to forgive. Our love story was already set in motion. Our destiny was just waiting for us to meet.” Thank God.

  “I never sat at the picnic tables at lunch. We were usually behind the gym.”

  “I heard some guys got busted behind the gym by Coach Thorne.”

  My eyebrows rise in surprise. “You came to see me get in trouble?”

  “Yeah, but we were too late.”

  “I’d say you were right on time.”

  25

  Jaymes

  Mom wins.

  I pull the pink dress from my suitcase. It’s the prettiest dress I own and I think Derrick will like it on me. I hope, at least.

  When I finish showering, I go to check on Ace, but stop and hide behind the bedroom wall. Peeking into the living room, Derrick and Ace are sitting on the couch rubbing their stomachs. I listen carefully since their voices are low. Derrick pokes Ace in the tummy, making him giggle, but then says, “Go for the gusto, my friend. It starts low and then builds as it comes up. Watch and learn.” Derrick belches so loud that even I’m impressed. Ace is super-impressed and a giggly mess on the couch.

  With a towel on my head and a fluffy robe from the closet over me, I stand in the doorway with my hands on my hips. “You’re teaching my son how to burp?”

  “I figured you weren’t going to. Yup, we’re doing man stuff out here so take your time getting ready.”

  The way his lips curl at the sides and the lamp’s light sparkles in his eyes, he’s a sight to behold. Sexier than sin and seeing him play with Ace is all kinds of goodness. Pointing my finger, I say, “Ace, keep him out of trouble. Okay?”

  “Ten-four, Mommy.”

  I’m taking it that Derrick taught him that too.

  Rochelle shows up on time to pick up Ace. We go over a few things and I tell her to call me if she needs anything or if Ace needs me. As much as I’m excited to have a whole night off, I’m also worried. He’s never been away from me. Rochelle hugs me like we’re old friends. “I’ll take the best care of him. I promise. We have lots of popcorn, and pizza, and candy. Games and movies. So you go have fun and enjoy your night off. I remember what it’s like to be a single parent and these nights are rare.” Maybe that’s why I feel so easy around her. She does understand. She probably understands the loneliness too.

  I say goodbye to my little man and then head back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. Derrick’s in the shower, but he reads me well. “He’s going to be all right. Rochelle’s a great mother.”

  My baby’s not here or in the other room. He’s not with me or with my mom. I thought it would be easy to let him go, but I’m finding I’m a bit too choked up to speak. Peeking out from the shower, he says, “Hey, babe.”

  Turning to look over my shoulder, I see wet skin and strong muscles, but when I reach his eyes, I only see concern. “You okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just not used to Ace being away from me, except with my mom. My friend Leah in certain circumstances.”

  “You don’t know Rochelle, but I do. I trust her completely. I also want you to have fun tonight, so we can check in with her.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Why would I mind?” He dips back under the shower spray.

  I take my makeup bag and dig out my eyeliner. “It’s supposed to be our night and all.”

  “Because it’s a night for us doesn’t mean we pretend that he’s not a part of you.” He’s scrubbing his hair when he adds, “Call her anytime you need. I’d rather have you relaxed than stressed and worried.” Two weeks ago, my life was bleak. I functioned on little input, little sleep, little . . . joy. Except for Ace. But now? With a man who was once my whole life, concerned about me and the welfare of my son as well? This is heaven.

  Moving the shower curtain to the side, I surprise him. “You coming in?”

  “No, but I needed to see you when I say this.”

  With a bar of soap in one hand, he stops lathering. “All right.”

  “Thank you for everything. You’ve been truly amazing to both me and Ace and it means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

  “Hey, stop thanking me and get in here.” With his hands on the belt of my robe, he pulls me close.

  Squealing I spin right out of it. “No. No. I’ve already done most of my makeup and hair.”

  With a wink and a toss of the robe, “That’s okay. I prefer you naked anyway.”

  “Uh-uh. You chose the rules for tonight. I’m going to hold you to that good and proper wining and dining you promised me.”

  “You got it, beautiful.”

  “And don’t forget the big ending.” This time I send him a wink.

  “I’ll give you the biggest and the happiest ending you’ve ever experienced.”

  Pointing my hairbrush at him, I say, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “Kinky. I like it.” He laughs.

  My chest reddens just thinking about later. “I’m getting warm in here. I’m going to get dressed.”

  “After seeing you naked, I might be a few more minutes.” I love that. I love that I can still turn him on. I don’t want to know how many women he’s been with all these years, but knowing it’s me he’s chosen? It makes me feel beautiful. And cheeky. And it’s b
een a long time since I’ve felt that.

  “Noooo. Save it all for me. It will give you something to look forward to.” I give him the evil eye, though I’m being playful, before walking out. I’m ironing the dress when he comes out. I almost burn my dress. Wow. He has an incredible body. Toned abs, lean body, strong muscles with veins that run the length of his forearms anchored by a large silver and black watch. But it’s the V made of muscles leading down under that captures my attention. The towel is barely holding on by a thread. The slightest breeze or touch could send it falling to the floor. Tempting.

  “Did you notice how we’ve fallen back into us so quickly?” he asks.

  I stop ironing again and he tugs on a pair of boxer briefs. “Fallen back quickly or picking up where we left off?”

  “Both.”

  I agree, but it doesn’t bother me at all. “I like this, and how natural it feels.” Disappearing into the bathroom, I tell him, “I’ll be out in a minute.” He may have seen me in my undies and less, but I’m hoping to look pretty for him too.

  “I’m going to make a drink. Can I get you something?”

  “White wine?”

  “You got it.”

  The zipper is tough to get up, so I put it on but leave it open in the back. Once I slip on my flats, I check how I look in the mirror, and then head out of the bedroom to find him.

  I stop suddenly, my hand covering my heart in awe of the sight before me. I’ve never felt more grown-up than standing here looking at this man that was once the same boy I loved. With his back to me, I let my gaze linger over the man he’s become. Maybe I hadn’t done this properly since we’ve reconnected, because I’m in awe. Dark jeans, black shoes that aren’t scuffed or worn out. A black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled expose his bare arms just enough to see the strength of the moving muscles from his forearms to his hands when he takes a sip of a brown liquid I can guess might be whiskey or bourbon. I wonder if the black and silver watch is something he bought for himself or was a gift from someone else, someone special maybe. It looks expensive. Everything about Derrick Masters these days looks expensive.

  Confidence stretches through the width of his shoulders. Standing at the window as if he rules the world. I’m starting to believe he rules mine again. But now I start to doubt my attire. Looking down, I don’t want to look dowdy next to him.

  “Wow, Jaymes,” I hear and look up to see nothing less than adoration in his eyes. “Just wow.”

  I’m quite sure my cheeks match the shade of the dress. Holding the skirt of the dress out, I ask, “You sure?”

  “More than sure.” He sets his glass down and comes to hug me. “Gorgeous girl, always be mine.”

  “I always was.”

  We come together as he hugs me and my zipper slides up my back. “Tell me I’m not dreaming. Tell me you’re really here.”

  “If we are dreaming, let’s stay asleep.”

  “I’ll happily stay in bed with you.”

  Tapping him on the chest, I laugh softly. “I didn’t say anything about bed, and by the way, you look very handsome. Did you get dressed up for me?”

  “I did,” he replies, popping his collar.

  A glass of wine is handed to me and Derrick toasts, “To the past and that girl I met in the schoolyard. To the present and tonight being amazing. To you and me and the incredible future I intend to give you.” I think I want to hear that every day for a while.

  “I’ll toast to that,” I whisper, not wanting to ruin this dream. He might be right and I’m not ready wake up. Raising our glasses, we tap them together and then seal it with a kiss.

  * * *

  Derrick Masters is a rock star.

  Derrick Masters is a rock star.

  Derrick Masters is a rock star.

  Derrick Masters is a rock star.

  Holy shit.

  Derrick, my Derrick, well, kind of my Derrick, is a rock star.

  That has never been more apparent than it is right now. Doesn’t matter that I’ve seen him on TV, or heard him on the radio. Nope. It’s when we walk through the hotel with security flanking our sides, walkie-talkies preparing security to be on high alert that it hits me. Really hits me, like straight in the face.

  My Derrick is a rock star. He’s famous. Everyone knows who he is.

  This may be normal protocol for him, but I’m terrified. My hand is safely tucked in his. Nothing can separate the hold he has on me, which calms my nerves just a little. “Is it always like this?” I ask.

  “Yes.” His response is clipped, but to the point.

  I don’t take it as an insult. He looks like he’s in a zone, focused ahead and yet, well aware of what his presence does, the commotion he stirs.

  We’re escorted to a large black SUV with the hotel logo shining in gold on the back panel. Everything is fancy here. I climb in and he’s quick behind me. The door shuts and his shoulders drop with the release of a harsh breath. Ensuring I’m fine, his hand covers my knee. “You okay?”

  “I’m okay. Are you?”

  A surprised grin checks in. “I’m all good, baby. Don’t worry about me.”

  “So that always happens—the stares and people pointing? Some asking for pics, fans calling your name?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Sitting back, his reality sets in. “You were once Rebel—”

  “I don’t like that name.”

  “The press calls you that sometimes.”

  “They don’t know the history. We do.”

  “Have you ever thought about sharing it?”

  “No.” Clipped. His lips are tight, his answer succinct. Turning to look out the window as we leave The Strip, I can see how much of the past still weighs on him. He may be in a different league these days, but no one can ever fully leave the past in the past. It shapes who we are in the present. He’s quiet a few minutes. Sometimes I need a little peace, so I give him the same courtesy, and then he speaks. “If I could scrub it off, I would. It’s a part of me. My skin. My body. My shell, but not who I am. It never was.”

  “You got it when you didn’t see another way. There were no outs. Just big talk of dreams and following them.” Resting my hand on his, I add, “But you did it. You made it, Derrick. You got out and it wasn’t just talk with you. So all that back then was just leading you to greater things. The whole world loves you now.”

  “But I only care about how you feel.” He angles his legs my way and leans in. “You think I forgot you. I didn’t. I never stopped thinking about you, Jaymes. I thought you meant what you said when you told me to not look back. I looked back but you were gone.” I hate that he thought that, but it was better for him that he did.

  “I was always with you. You just couldn’t see me.”

  “I see you now and I never want to close my eyes again for fear you’ll disappear.” I won’t disappear. Can’t.

  “I’m right here. Right here with you.”

  26

  Jaymes

  The car comes to a stop and Derrick looks out his window. It all happens so fast that I follow his lead. The door is unlocked and then opened. We shuffle out and are whisked in a door on the backside of a hotel from what it looks like. Following a man in a suit, he speaks to Derrick as if I’m not even here. Despite my growing frustration, I remain quiet, but my thoughts spin on the matter. We’re brought into a dimly lit restaurant decorated in heavy blues and golds, booths and tables. It’s small and I catch the name, Hugo’s Cellar at the top of a wine list when we pass a waiter.

  The waiter stops and offers us a booth in the corner. It’s dimmer than most of the tables and I like it. The place is busy but not overly so for being such a quaint restaurant. It feels intimate and it’s definitely romantic. “Are you romancing me?” I ask, sitting in the middle of the booth so I’m close to him.

  “I am. How’d you figure it out?”

  Shrugging, I wink. “Wild guess.”

  The service is quick and attentive. We have wine in front of us within
minutes of sitting down. I take several sips of mine before we just look at each other. It’s been five years, but he’s changed so much, the boy I once knew buried under masculine features. He was always fit and muscular, but now he commands his body instead of the reverse. His eyes tell of the life he’s led. Scarred fingertips from playing a guitar instead of illegal activity. “Your hair used to be lighter, dark blond.”

  Smoothing it back, he says, “Yeah, it’s getting darker the older I get. One day I guess I’ll be salt and pepper.”

  “You’ll look so distinguished.” The attention seems to affect him and he glances down. “What?” I ask, surprised he seems shy under the compliment.

  His glass is pushed forward until it taps mine. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here with Jaymes Grenier.”

  “I’m more than a name. I’m a real girl,” I tease like Pinocchio.

  Deep blues drink me in and when they land on my eyes, he says, “You’re more than a girl these days.”

  “Be careful. I might actually start to believe this is real.”

  “Me too,” he whispers, looking away.

  The waiter comes and takes our order and when we’re alone, I reach over and slip my hand under his. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to sound cold when you wanted to talk. I just don’t want bombshells dropped every time we’re alone. We have so much more to say to each other. I do, for sure, but can it just wait until tomorrow?”

  His fingers curl around mine and he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let me in. I only have the best intentions when it comes to you and Ace. I will never hurt you. I will help you in any way I can, but you have to trust me. I can see you’re hiding from me as if I haven’t loved you my whole life. As if I’d even know how to love anyone else. This may come off as a surprise to you. It does to me. But it’s also so obvious. I’ve never stopped feeling forever with you. We have a second chance. Please give me that chance.”

 

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