by Unknown
“Well, not all your coordination.” my comment immediately lightens the mood back and spreads a different flush of color to her cheeks.
She pushes the bag at me. “We should probably get moving before all this food makes my jeans tighter than they already are.”
Defensively I argue, “Nothing wrong with tight jeans, Pres. You look good. It's obvious you're fit and make a habit of taking care of yourself. That and you calling me before your kickboxing classes.”
“Well, if I keep eating like this I'll look like a cow. Do you wanna date a cow?”
“I'd marry the cow,” I validate with a smile. “You're beautiful any size, baby. You never have to worry about me thinking otherwise.”
Her face lights up in such a way it pangs my chest. She hasn't heard that before or at the very least in a significant amount of time. Fucking pathetic. What kind of asshole doesn't assure his girlfriend how sexy she is? How gorgeous he finds her? What kind of man doesn't take the time out of his fucking life to remind her what a wonderful woman she is? I already hate her ex for being a part of her life, but now I hate him more for making the same mistakes I did. Presley deserves to be treasured at every possible fucking moment.
The two of us walk around killing time before the bull riding competition is scheduled to start. We ride the safer looking ride while sharing laughs and brief kisses. They have to be short in public. With the two of us, most of the time, there seems to only be an on switch.
“Can't believe you've never been to the carnival,” I sigh as we stop to play a plate shooting game.
“When I was in college some of my friends went, but I was either working, studying, or...” Her voice trails off at the same time she lifts her toy gun. “Or working.”
Following her action, I state, “Sounds like you work too much.”
“I had rent to pay,” she announces and fires away rapidly.
Each pinging sound burrows into my chest acting as a less than subtle reminder, I should've been around to help her make rent. I should've been around to take care of her. I owed her that. I wanted to give her that. It should've been us studying, us making rent. Our friends.
By the end of the game, neither of us have hit anything. “Besides, it's not like we were best friends, more like just classmates. I didn't make many friends in college.” The slight dip in cheerfulness sparks a reaction to drop an arm of comfort around her. “Anyway, what about you? Did you end up going to college?”
We steadily approach the ball pitching game. “Community.”
“Didn't want to transfer?”
“Dropped out.” I pay the guy for a basket of balls and put them between us. “Almost wished I hadn't. Big Mike wants to open up another shop and has hinted heavily at wanting to me to run it at some point. At the very least, he wants me be the head mechanic. Turns out I've got a natural talent with cars.”
Presley lights up. “That's great! Congratulations!”
“It would be if I had finished school of any kind.”
Her pitch misses completely and she surrenders the remaining full basket to me. “You can't run a shop without a degree?”
“No.” I toss a hard pitch and shake a bottle. “Big Mike says the head mechanic job is mine if I'm willing to at least go back to a technical school for proper certification.”
Nonchalantly she questions, “So why don't you?”
“Barely make enough to cover my bills and pay my brother back as it is.” The ball flies from my grasp. “Besides, school is a commitment. Between that and work, there would be virtually no time for you.” My eyes meet hers. “And I'm in no hurry to be away from you more than I already am.”
She grins wide and slides her hands into her back jean pockets. “I'm not going anywhere.”
With a smile of my own I turn back to trying to win the game I know is rigged.
“In fact I can think of several ways to make studying more fun,” the sexual implication has me groaning through the pitch.
In a low heated tone I ask, “Is that right?”
My girlfriend leans her body against the empty counter space next to me. “Uh-huh.” When I smile again she adds, “And if you don't wanna borrow the money from Noah, you can always borrow it from me. I'm more than willing to help.”
Her offer tightens my fingers around the final ball. Instead of replying, I pull back and throw the damn thing with everything I've got. The group of six bottle, which seem to be impossible to topple over, fly off the stand. Anger surges up the back of my neck with nowhere else to go. My jaw ticks.
“Winner!” Announces the man running the booth. Joyfully he points to the hanging selection. “You can have your choice of the large stuffed animals.”
My attention silently roams over the selection until I spot something that strikes me. I point to the panda and immediately transfer it to Presley's clutches. The man wishes us a wonderful evening as we stroll away.
She adjusts the over-sized stuffed creature. “Thanks for my new bear.”
A grin should come easily at her gratitude yet it doesn't. Another rush of rage jolts through my veins forcing my hands to cower in my pockets. “You're welcome.”
Abruptly Presley stops in her tracks. As soon as I do, she impatiently waits for me to bridge the gap. The second I do she snaps, “Did I do something to piss you off?”
Through gritted teeth I confess, “Not technically.”
“Then what the hell is your problem?” Not used to the affliction in her tone, it boils the anger again. My unresponsiveness lifts her eyebrows. “I'm expecting an answer.”
I don't give her one.
Presley tilts her head at me with a viscous scowl. “You wanna keep being in a relationship with me?”
“Yes.”
“Then talk to me,” she pleads a little sharpness to her tone. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing!” I explode louder than intended. “You didn't do anything wrong! I fucked up! I should've been there for you in college so you didn't have to work so hard! I shouldn't have been running drugs for motorcycle clubs! I should've had my ass in class! I should be the one offering you support for whatever the fuck it is you need not the other way around. I shouldn't be a pathetic piece of shit who needs handouts from his girlfriend. I should be man enough to be the one to take care of her. Not the other way around.”
Silence inserts itself between us. My chest heaves heavily while Presley's face seems to oscillate between confusion and crushed. The sight wastes no time acting as an accelerant on my sizzling resentment.
All of sudden she says boldly, “I'm not going to apologize for being a successful person.”
Her words furrow my eyebrows.
“And you know what else, Ryder? I never wanted you to take care of me like that.” Stunned by her response, my mouth cracks open. “But you never asked me that. You just assumed. You assumed I wanted to just be a happy house wife. Have a house full of kids because that's what you wanted.”
The information sends my head whirling through time for evidence she's wrong. That I did ask. Any proof I wasn't an even shittier boyfriend than I remember.
“I'm not saying I don't want kids, I'm just saying...I like working. I like being able to support myself. I like being able to make it on my own,” she continues her tone now softening. “I'm glad you weren't around to baby me. I learned to stand on my own two feet. I needed that.”
I run a hand through my hair to give it a tug in an attempt to relieve some of the frustration.
“And for the record, there's nothing wrong with asking for help. It actually takes a real man to do it.” With a deep breath and step forward she declares, “So, if you wanna go back to school, I'm first in line willing to mentally and financially be there for you. If you don't then don't. It's your decision either way, but don't be angry because people want to support you.”
It's not enough she's stunning and rich, she has to be intelligent too? What the hell am I doing here? What the hell is she doing with me? What
the fuck am I bringing to this relationship? What the hell did I bring to the old one?
My own angst reverberates, threatening to burst my ear drums. Unconsciously I mutter, “Fuck, I want a cigarette.”
Presley drops the bear, lifts to her toes, and presses her lips forcefully on top of mine. Taken off guard by the unexpected action, I stumble backwards as I wrap an arm around her waist for stability. Feverishly her tongue attacks mine, swiping sexually, tearing apart the restraint I'm barely holding onto. Her mouth keeps control until mine is submitting.
On a nip of my bottom lip she pulls away leaving me in a bewildered yet successfully subdued state. “Better?”
I watch her lower herself back to her feet before answering, “Better than any goddamn cigarette could ever be.”
With a crooked smirk she retorts, “Thank you.”
“It's the truth.”
She places a hand on my chest. “For not smoking. For not giving into the craving.”
But I am. Every day we spend together I'm surrendering to the most prominent drug of them all. Presley's like a speedball. Ultimate high and most likely to kill me.
Clearing my throat, I swiftly pick up the dirty prize, and hand it to her. “We should get to the bull competition. You don't wanna miss a minute of it.”
Joy jumps back into her eyes as she leans into me. I drop one arm around her shoulder and use the other to check my vibrating phone.
Kara: It's a good night to watch Netflix and chill.
Presley questions sweetly, “Important?”
I clear the text away and slide it back to my pocket. “Not even a little.”
The two of us exchange smiles without another word. Kara is far from important. She's history hissing at its request for repetition. She's the real cigarette in the toy pack. I don't need what she's trying to offer. She's not even worth mentioning. Soon enough our late night confidant conversations will be faint echoes like the rest of my past. Soon enough Presley's voice of reason will drown out the unwanted lingering temptations for anything more other than a healthy future. Obviously, I'm not there just yet, but I will be. I know it.
Presley
Katherine stabs at her salad with a devious smile on her face. “You do know you're going to end up in my book one way or another.”
I roll my eyes and place down my own. “Don't I have to consent to these things?”
“Artistic observation and my team of overly paid lawyers would be glad to dispute that with you,” she chortles as she crosses her legs. When she catches a glimpse of my annoyed stare she sighs, “Relax, Presley. I'm just mentally noting the changes in your behavior from being single to being in a relationship.”
There have been many, most are obvious. I smile brighter. Laugh louder. Giggle like a school girl. Pretty much every cliché is met, so why she needs to document it is perplexing.
“Don't worry. I never use your real name. I think this time I'll call you Petunia.”
“First I was stuck up now I smell odd?”
“Everything has to be literal?”
Ignoring her comment, I playfully poke, “And why do I have to belong to the P family? Do I need to get you a baby names book? Wait. Shouldn't you still have yours from when Angel was born?”
Katherine rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I threw it away. The last thing I needed was David seeing it and getting the desire for more children.”
I lightly chuckle as I turn my company computer back on.
A hum comes from her. “Back to work already?”
“I've got four emails I need to send before my next appointment.”
“Been too busy making other appointments to finish your work again?”
The implication causes me to shake my head while typing in my password. “Not at all. Actually, it's been the exact opposite. I haven't seen Ryder all week.”
She sounds surprised. “Blowing you off?”
“Other way around,” I mutter.
My eyes scan for the starred documents that need my immediate attention as Katherine questions, “Are you two okay? You having troubles? You've only been dating a couple months. Seems too early to be having big issues.”
Clicking the first one open I deny, “We're good. We're actually really happy.”
“Then why haven't you seen him?”
“Because I have a business to run,” I answer and give her a warm look. “And if I would like to keep it going, there's work that needs to constantly be done. Weren't you the one preaching about finding a balance not just jumping from one extreme to the next?”
She leans back in her chair with a clever smirk. “I don't preach. I teach. Educate.”
“Exaggerate.”
We both giggle and I reply to the first email. Truthfully, it hasn't been the easiest not seeing Ryder every day, but it hasn't been as difficult as I imagined it would. None of the high has worn off, yet I've managed to find a way to focus on what else I've deemed important to me. I meant what I told him about enjoying my independence. I don't want to be taken care of like a trophy who only wishes to stay polished. I want a partner. I want my other half to function as that and I know he will. He's...still adjusting to life's disappointments. Sometimes I wonder as much as he loves me how much resentment he holds inside for the fact my life went forward. I kept moving. Even while missing the hell out of him in the marrow of my bones, I didn't just give up. I made something of myself. And I know he says he's proud and happy, but I can't help feeling like it reminds him of what he didn't accomplish.
“What's been going on around here?” Katherine questions at the same time I open the next email to answer.
In the process of replying I explain, “Everything. It's time for the buses to be checked and registered. There were seventeen families who needed to be filed and updated on the wait list. Decor proposals from Merrick about Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Proposals and research for the Christmas charity event, plus I've got two teachers leaving at the end of the school year, so resumes have been piling up-”
“That's in May. Why would anyone apply this early?”
“The same reason families put in a request for their babies when they find out they are officially pregnant,” I brag and hit send. “We're the best.”
“Your confidence is nauseating.” With a wide grin, I turn my attention to her. “But...more than well earned.”
“Thank you.”
My eyes cut back to a new unexpected email I'm tempted not to open. After a long pause, I open the message unprepared for what's inside.
Presley,
I've tried calling. I've tried texting. I know initially you wanted space, so I restrained myself. I'm now asking, do you think you can find it in your heart to give us a moment to chat? Hope the flowers I sent found you well.
Xander
I flop my face into the palm of my hand. They did find me and I distributed them among the teachers, using the ones that remained as a sensory activity for one of the younger classrooms. The last thing I wanted was a reminder of my ex-boyfriend just sitting in my office, especially when there's not even a reminder of my current boyfriend in it. Besides, where was this Xander when we were together? Where was the effort then? Why did I have to walk away before he could do better? Not that any of those answers matter. Ryder's the one I wanted then and now. Still. The part of me that spent five years with Xander, the part of me that sometimes misses not worrying where my significant other is when he says 'with a friend', wants to carve out a few minutes to acknowledge him. Check on his well-being. Maybe be friends?
There's a knock on the cracked open office door that diverts my thoughts. Startled at the sight, I close the email and question, “Ryder?”
Katherine spins around in her seat to get her first glimpse of him.
“Hey,” he cautiously greets.
Unable to stop myself from smiling, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
“I haven't seen you in four days and needed a fix.” His smile tugs up higher. “
Busy?”
In a defeated voice I reply, “I have a meeting in about six minutes.”
“Oh.” His shoulders slump as he nods. “I understand. I won't stay in your way. It was nice to see your face, baby.”
“Yours too.”
There's a sharp clearing of a throat diverting both of our eyes to Katherine. Amazed I forgot she was in the room, I motion a hand towards hers preparing to introduce them.
“I'm Katherine.” She extends her hand for him to shake. “You must be the one and only Ryder.”
He shakes in return. “Hopefully the one and only everything.”